romance novella

Chapter 10The bus pulled up two hundred yards from his house. Jane linked her arm in his as they walked along the footpath towards the house. When they reached the front gate, the front door opened and his mother ran out of the house and along the path towards them, closely followed by his aunt.



“John you’re here. I saw the bus go past and I hoped you’d be on it. How are you? Are you hungry? I bet you’d like a cup of tea.”



“Hold on there, mum. One question at a time. I’m all right, I’m hungry and I would like a cup of tea. How about you, Jane?”



Jane nodded; it was an excuse to stay and she had a lot she wanted to say and do.



When they got into the house the table was laid and the kettle already waiting on the stove. In less than five minutes his mother appeared from the kitchen with a pot of tea and a plate of sandwiches.



“I’m afraid it’s not much, John. Rationing has got worse since you went to Canada.”



For the next twenty minutes they ate and talked about Canada, his voyage, the journey from Scotland and the reason for his aunt’s presence. His description of Canada and his journey home had many of the characteristics of holiday reminiscences; Jack providing details of what he’d done and where he’d been with the others asking about the weather, the landscape and the boat journey, but most of the questions were directed towards Canada and Canadians. What were Canadians like? What were their houses like? Was there rationing? He answered them all, but was careful not to make any reference to Sophie.



It was his mother who broached the subject of his aunt’s presence.



“John, I suppose you are wondering why your aunt is here. I don’t think you know but your Uncle Ray was killed, just outside Tripoli, two weeks ago. She’s come to stay with us. In fact she’ll be staying for the foreseeable future as your dad has found a flat in High Wickham and I’m going to stay with him. Your aunt will be looking after the house.”



Jack’s Uncle Ray had been a regular soldier in the Royal Tank Regiment. In 1940 he had been injured at the Battle of Arras when his under-powered, under-armoured and under-gunned Matilda had been hit by a shell from an 88mm anti-tank gun. His uncle had escaped, but his tank had brewed-up with two of his comrades trapped inside and he had been forced to watch and listen to their screams as they burnt to death. In early 1942 he had been sent to the Western Desert to join the 6th Armoured Division, a part of the 8th Army, and had participated in the defeat of Rommel at El Alamein. He had died outside Tripoli in one of the final battles of the North African campaign.



Jack liked his aunt. She was his mother’s younger sister who had been married to a career soldier. He hadn’t seen her much as she had lived in the south for most of her married life and had only visited Shaw on rare occasions. When she had visited she had indulged Jack – probably because she had no children of her own — taking him to Belle Vue to see the zoo and the circus. He was glad to see her again, but saddened by the circumstance.



After they’d finished eating his mother got up, cleared the table, and then came back from the kitchen to announce she and his aunt were going to the vicarage for a meeting of the parochial church council and wouldn’t be back until between ten and ten-thirty.



As she left she eyed Jack, gave a hint of a smile, and said,



“We’ll see you later. I’m sure you won’t miss us. After all this time you two must have a lot to talk about.”



As they walked down the front path Jane got up, slid over to him and sat on his knee.



“Jack, I told you I’d missed you, but what I haven’t told you is how much I missed this.”



As she finished speaking she reached down and grabbed his cock; he hadn’t been expecting it and almost flinched at her touch. She reached for his fly, undid the buttons, with a more practiced ease than the first time she had done it, and reached into his underwear. She pushed them down with the back of her wrist; exposing his cock. It was almost erect. She bent her head and kissed it and then, teasingly, ran her tongue around and under the rim. It felt good and his cock responded; becoming fully erect.



“Gosh, Jack, I’d forgotten how big this thing is.”



She returned to her task and kneeling on the carpet in front of him, took him into her mouth. He watched the top of her head bobbing up and down and heard the sucking sound as she sought to draw his seed from his balls and all he could think was, he was betraying Sophie. In the end it was his body which betrayed her.



Jane was good, better than he remembered and after two to three minutes of her ministrations, he felt himself starting to come. He grabbed her head and started to face-fuck her. She relaxed her throat muscles and managed to swallow almost all of the monster. When he came he flooded her throat, causing her to gag slightly and move back until she had only the last two inches in her mouth. She continued to suck until he finished thrusting and she felt his legs tremble for the last time. She got up, wiped her mouth and with a laugh on her face, said,



“Tastes good; it hasn’t changed — although I think I may have tasted a hint of maple syrup.”



He had sent her a bottle just before Christmas.



She kissed him and said,



“Jack, it’s time you fucked me.”



Once again she had taken him by surprise. He had expected they would make love, but not this soon.



“I’d love to, but what about my mum?”



“What about her? You’re not thinking about making love to her are you?”



In the seven months he had been away she had become more worldly. Seven months ago she would never have said such a thing.



“Don’t be silly. But what if she comes back?”



“Jack, she won’t and even if she did, you’re a grown man. She has to expect you are going to do the things grown men do.”



He knew he was trapped and yet, he had to admit, he wanted to fuck her.



“All right, but we’d better be quick.”



They went up to his room. In fifteen seconds she had removed her clothes and was helping him remove his.



“Come on Jack. Don’t you fancy me? Don’t you want to fuck me?”



He did, sort of, but once again his erect cock was telling him it was something more than sort of.



They started from where they’d left off, although there were subtle differences in their love-making. She noticed how he’d changed. Before he went to Canada he had engaged in foreplay but once they had started fucking he had concentrated on the matter in hand. Now he was paying more attention to her, stopping from time to time during their fucking to kiss her and to offer endearments.



He didn’t notice – probably because Sophie had done the same — how, when he came, she used her cunt muscles to milk him, or how she had used profanity to urge him on; neither of which had happened before he went to Canada.



During the next five days they made love eleven times and it would have been more if Jane had got her way.



Sitting on the train on his way to the Heavy Conversion Unit, where he would learn to fly a four-engined bomber, and thinking about his leave, Jack had to admit he had enjoyed it. Jane was good in bed; she did everything he wanted and more. She had been as adventurous as always and on the third night she had suggested anal sex. Her friend had told her she had enjoyed it when her husband had ‘stuck it in my arse’ and, ‘besides, you can’t get pregnant’. Based on Sophie’s experience with her husband he wanted to reject her out of hand, but the notion excited him.



“I’m not sure. You might not like it.”



“Jack, you ought to know me by now. If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you.”



“Let me think about it.”



The next night he fucked her in the arse. It wasn’t easy; for all her bravado she was scared, both of failure and pain. The previous evening she had left the lubricant her friend had given her and had provided him with clear instructions about what he must do. The thought of sticking a finger up her arse didn’t appeal to him, but he’d had his instructions and if he was prepared to stick his cock there, why not his finger?



They started as though they were going to make love conventionally. He played with her tits and clit while she sucked and stroked his cock. He stuck his cock in her cunt and was surprised to find how wet she was; if her arse was as wet as her cunt there would be no problem. She pointed to the night-stand and said,



“Get the lubricant. All you’ve got to do is put some in me and some on your cock.”



She watched as he oiled his cock. It glistened, even in the dim light of the bedside-lamp. Satisfied, she turned over, got on her knees with her shoulders on the bed and presented her bum to him. For a moment he saw Sophie lying there, waiting to be violated by her husband and wanted to stop.



“Come on Jack; make sure you put enough in me….. but, be careful.”



He took the bottle and poured some around and on her hole. He took his finger and coated it with oil and then, gently, inserted into her arse. She was tight; he could feel her sphincter resisting him. Gradually, as he worked his finger in and out, she started to relax and his finger sank further and further until it reached the second knuckle. He took his finger out, got her to hold her hole open and dribbled some oil directly into her arse.



“Jack, that’s bloody cold.”



It would be. It was winter; coal and coke were rationed and as there wasn’t enough for the central heating, the bedroom was cold.



He sat back on his heels, bent his knees and mounted her. He had fucked her and Sophie doggie fashion before, but this time the angle was slightly different, he had to bend over further to get his cock in. He rubbed the underside of his cock against her now slick hole and then, very slowly and very carefully, tried to enter her. Her arse was tight, tighter even than her cunt had been. She grimaced, but said nothing about the pain.



“It’s all right Jack, you can push a little harder.”



He pushed and felt his cock slip past her sphincter. He was in; not all the way but far enough in that he could start to fuck her. He fucked her slowly, waiting for her to complain. Underneath him she could feel her hole expanding as he thrust deeper into her. It hurt to start but as she got used to him, she started to experience the sensations her friend had described to her. She was becoming excited; partly from the effect of his cock and partly from the knowledge that what they were doing was almost illicit. She could feel he was becoming excited, his thrusts were harder and longer, and that she too was starting to become excited. She picked up her right hand, sought and found her clit, and started to fuck herself with her fingers.



She stuck a finger in her cunt and could feel, through the lining of her cunt, his cock moving in her bum. She took her finger out and attacked her clit, rubbing it furiously as she sought to reach her climax. It didn’t take long; she could feel him starting to come and not wanting to be disappointed, she rubbed harder and faster. They came; Jack first, his spunk squirting into her, flooding her bowels and she immediately after, rubbing her clit with one hand and with two fingers from the other in her cunt.



He fucked her arse twice more; each time it was easier and, each time, more enjoyable.



When he left to report to the Heavy Conversion Unit at RAF Wigsley she cried. She wasn’t happy about him leaving, but most of all, she was worried he was about to became a bomber pilot. In spite of the secrecy about losses, the British people were aware bomber crews were suffering high casualty rates. She didn’t want to be the girlfriend, fiancée or even the wife of a dead hero. At the most it got you a widow’s pension, at the least – nothing. She had wanted to tell him about Simon, a naval lieutenant whom she’d met three months earlier at a dance in Bolton, but the last seven days had been wonderful, as memorable as the time they’d spent together just before he left for Canada.



She had met Simon when she’d gone to a dance with a girlfriend and halfway through the night, had been asked for a dance by an officer in a Royal Navy uniform. They’d danced for most of the night and she had accepted his invitation for a drink the next evening. He was in Bolton, doing something at a factory which was manufacturing something for the Navy. He had been evasive about the specifics and she hadn’t been that interested. What had interested her was what he did when he wasn’t in Bolton and she had been pleased to find that Lieutenant Simon Henderson was twenty-five, based in Grimsby, with a shore job which had something to do with the minesweeper fleet — it sounded like radio or something — and the only danger he faced was from the sporadic air raids on the port.



At first he had been almost proper, acting more like an escort than a boyfriend, and then, a month after they’d met, he invited her to Grimsby. She didn’t know what to expect, but suspected he wasn’t going to play the escort when he got her on his home ground. She was right. He had booked her a room at the Queen’s Hotel and then taken her out to dinner. When they had finished dinner he had taken her back to the hotel for a drink and after plying her with drink he needn’t have bought her, he took her up to her room and in his mind, had seduced her.



She had enjoyed it, partially because she was slightly drunk, but also because she hadn’t had sex for four months and was becoming tired of pleasuring herself. She had continued to go out with him; not because she loved him, but because he was fun, here and as long as he was shore-based, not likely to die. In comparison with Jack, there was the promise of a future with Simon; maybe not a forever future, but a future.



There were occasions, after she and Simon had made love when she had feelings of guilt, both for betraying Jack and for making love to somebody she didn’t love. Whenever she felt that way, she tried rationalise her actions. What Jack was doing was dangerous; eight hours of terror followed by five days of boredom with the chances of surviving a tour less than five per cent. On the other hand, unless he got posted, Simon was almost sure to survive the war. She loved Jack and how he made her feel when he was fucking her, but there was no future for them.



When, three months later, she told him she was getting engaged to Simon, she sat and cried all evening.






Chapter 12

Chapter 15″Hello, anyone home?”



They looked at each other. She jumped out of bed and grabbed her night-dress which was lying on the chair where she had left it the night before.



“Hello Sheila, just Auntie Susan and me. I think she’s in the bathroom. I’m still in bed.”



“Lazy devil. It’s after twelve. I’m coming up.”



He straightened the bed-clothes as best he could and put on his pyjama jacket.



His sister bounced in to his bedroom, to be followed immediately by Jane, and stood at the end of the bed.



“Where’s auntie?”



“I told you, she’s in the bathroom. I think she’s getting ready to go out.”



“Auntie, are you there?”



“Yes, dear, I won’t be a minute. I’ve just got to clean my teeth.”



His sister looked at him and wrinkled her nose. The room smelled of sex; when his aunt squirted it went everywhere and left the unmistakable odour of sex.



“Who have you been entertaining? It can’t be Jane as she’s been with me.”



“Nobody, the only people here are auntie and me.”



She looked at him. She wasn’t stupid; she had been fucking her boyfriend for almost a year and she knew the smell of sex. She sniffed and then laughed.



“Oh, and I was sure you’d been a naughty boy.”



He didn’t know what to say. The sound of the bathroom door opening saved him from further inquisition.



“Oh, hello auntie; Jack says you’re going out — where are you going?”



The question flustered her as she had just escaped, by the skin of her teeth, being caught in bed with her nephew and now she was being asked a question which could put her back in the mire. What had Jack told them?



“Didn’t Jack tell you?”



There was no answer from her niece or Jane.



Deciding she had to answer and, hoping Jack hadn’t said anything, she took a chance.



“Just into town; shopping. I saw Mrs. Henson earlier and she told me Anderson’s have had a shipment of washing powder and you know how difficult it is to get any these days.”



It sounded reasonable, even to her.



Sheila turned to Jack and with a quizzical, almost arch look on her face, said,



“I’d better go and give you a chance to get up. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.”



Why had she added the last part of the sentence? Jack was now sure she suspected something.



“Thanks; but why would I be embarrassed?”



She looked at Jack, sniffed overtly once again, smiled and together with Jane, left the room.



Jack lay in bed and thought about his close escape and then wondered why Jane was with his sister? Downstairs he could hear the three of them talking followed by the sound of the door shutting. His aunt must have left for town and, by the looks of it, on the twenty-five to one bus. He was sure his sister suspected something; after all if he could smell the evidence of sex in his bedroom and he had been surrounded by it, his sister, who had come in from the outside, couldn’t have missed it. Still what could she do or, more pertinently, what would she do? Unless she was sure, probably nothing.



The house went quiet; apparently his sister and Jane must have left. He thought about Jane. He hadn’t loved her – at least not in the way he loved Sophie – but he did care for her and she was a good fuck. He knew his aunt would be available whenever he wanted her, but sometimes he would need a younger, tighter body, not only to fuck but to socialize with. He could fuck his aunt and take her to the pub, but he couldn’t take her to meet his friends. It would certainly be easier to get back with Jane. She was good in bed, he enjoyed going out with her and, furthermore, he knew what he would get with Jane. He hadn’t the time to pay court to someone else on the off-chance they would sleep with him.



As he thought about Jane he remembered her body, particularly her nipples; remembered how she had fucked and sucked him and, as he did so, he started to become excited and his cock began to harden. He stroked his cock, playing with it as he thought about the first time he took her anally and the first time they’d sixty-nined. It didn’t take long before he felt the tell-tale signs of his come rising in his balls; an indication it wouldn’t be long before he came.



As he had his eyes closed, he didn’t hear the door open and didn’t see his sister and Jane creep in. The click, when Sheila let go of the door knob, was the first indication anybody was in the room. He opened his eyes, saw them and froze; his erect cock in his hand.



“Don’t let us interrupt you. Carry on with what you were doing.”



They made no move to leave. Why hadn’t they? What did they want? Did they really want him to continue? He looked at their faces. There was nothing which would tell him if they meant it or not. He stroked it once, then again. They laughed. It was his sister who spoke.



“Don’t look so guilty; it isn’t as if you haven’t done it before. I did live with you for eighteen years, don’t forget, and not all your nocturnal habits escaped my notice. And from what I hear, Jane has helped you on a number of occasions.” Jane nodded and smiled. “By the way it is impressive — your cock that is — it’s certainly the biggest I’ve ever seen.”



She moved forward, as if to get a better look, and he dropped his hand to show her. She leaned forward and appeared to be reaching for his cock but, instead, extended her middle finger, wiped it on his thigh and put it in her mouth.



“Spunk and something else. I knew you’d been up to something and, from the smell of it, it wasn’t just wanking. I can’t believe it; you and Auntie Susan have been up to something. I thought she had been a lot happier recently, and now I realise why. Jack, it’s all right; I’m not upset. You can tell me. I know she’s been unhappy.”



It sounded to Jack that she was more interested in hearing the details of the goings-on between him and his aunt than admonishing him. He decided to take the high road.



“Sheila, even if there had been – and I’m not admitting to anything — you don’t expect I would tell you. You wouldn’t have expected me to tell you what Jane and I had been doing, would you?”



“You don’t have to; Jane’s told me everything. I know you two just about covered the whole of sex from A to Z. Jack, I’m impressed. Who’d have thought my baby brother would have become a sexual athlete of the highest order?”



She was teasing him and he knew he would have to be careful as an intemperate reply was likely to condemn him. He needed to change the subject.



“Sheila, would you give me some privacy?”



“Why Jack; is once a morning not enough? You don’t have to answer that; from the taste I just had and the smell in your room it’s obvious which you have been fucking someone and, in the absence of another, viable, alternative that someone is obviously good old Auntie Susan. Well, well, well; what would the neighbours think? Or our parents, for that matter?”



“Sheila, you can think what you like. I told you. I’m not admitting to anything.”



“It’s all right Jack I’m not going to say anything. It’s odd, but, if you and auntie want to fuck, it’s up to you. I’m not going to criticise you, but just make sure you don’t have any two headed babies.”



All the time his sister had been talking to Jack, Jane had been looking at his cock, which was gradually wilting and losing all its majesty. Jane spoke,



“Jack, it looks like you’re losing all your enthusiasm.” He looked at his cock. It was true, it had declined to half-mast and was showing symptoms of total collapse.



“Poor old Jack; your sister and I don’t turn you on? Perhaps you need someone more mature – or even foreign?”



So she knew about Sophie; but she could only have guessed. He had mentioned Sophie twice in his letters to her and had made no reference to a romantic entanglement.



“He doesn’t,” his sister interjected, “what Jack needs is to concentrate on women his own age.”



Was she offering herself to him? Jack thought about his sister; he had only caught glimpses of her body but, from what he had seen, she was a younger, slightly slimmer version of his aunt. Her tits were smaller and, while they could not be described as pert, it looked like they didn’t need a lot of support. It was the package which was attractive; she looked like a woman. Not fat, with pendulous tits like Angela or thin with egg-cup sized tits like Jane, but a woman like Sophie and his aunt; full breasted and with child-bearing hips.



“You may not have noticed, but at the moment, there aren’t any readily available. Jane’s here, but is spoken for, and since I’ve got to go back tomorrow, I don’t think that gives me enough time to meet anyone, let alone seduce them.”



Two could play that game. If his sister or Jane wanted to flirt, he could too.



His sister laughed and turned to Jane. “Well I’m not available. I’m going. I’ll leave you two to it.”



Jane laughed and watched as his sister left the room.



“It appears, other than your aunt, that I must be the only one who’s available. It’s all right Jack, I’m not going to seduce you, but I wouldn’t mind re-acquainting myself with the monster.”



It took her five seconds to pump him to full mast and when it got there, she stopped and admired it once again.



“I bet you’ve had no complaints about the size but how about the performance? Actually you don’t need to answer that; from what I remember once I’d got you trained, you performed with consummate skill.”



What was he – a performing seal?



“Why don’t you stop talking and get on with it – or are you all talk?”



She looked at him and smiled. If it was action he wanted, she could provide it. She dropped her head, took his cock in her mouth, sucked twice and stopped.



“Your sister was right. I can taste a woman. You’ve been fucking someone…. and recently.”



How could she recognise it was a woman, he wanted to ask her, but he was more interested in being sucked-off.



“If you’re going to play with my cock, then the least you can do is show me your tits.”



She looked at him, as if assessing his request, and then smiled.



“If you want to see them, you’ve got to undress me yourself.”



What an invitation. He reached up and undid her blouse; exposing a slip and bra. He pulled the slip off her shoulder and undid the bra; her tits were just as he remembered; even slightly larger, and still tipped with enormously long nipples.



He reached for her nipple with his mouth and sucked.



“Stop that Jack — maybe later.” Promises, promises. Would there be a later?



She returned to his cock; licking the shaft and then snuggling down and licking and sucking his balls. It felt good; he loved it when a woman sucked his balls. She took him in her mouth and sucked him. She was good, even better than he remembered in that, somehow, she had learned to swallow even more of his cock, almost to the point where her mouth was touching his mound and when she played him with her tongue, the experience was exquisite. She licked, almost tickled the head and, every time she did, his cock reacted; springing to attention. When she sensed he was starting to come, she stopped licking and took him in her mouth; sucking so hard it almost felt as if he had a vacuum cleaner attached to his cock. When he came she was amazed by both the amount and force of his ejaculation which flooded her mouth, causing her to gag slightly. As he finished thrusting she opened her mouth, showed him his spunk, swallowed it with an exaggerated gulp, and smiled at him.



“Wow, Jack, what a load of spunk. Did I turn you on that much?”



“You did. I wouldn’t mind returning the favour.”



Jane was tempted. Jack was a good lover, much better than Simon, and she had been excited by sucking him off. But fucking him would be complicated. She had got him out of her system and was in danger of drifting back. She had rationalised why she had given him up and to start fucking him again would be irrational and, besides, he was already fucking his aunt.



“I’m sorry, Jack. I want to but I can’t. Take it as a parting gift.”



He hadn’t seen Jane, his sister or aunt since that leave, but he was due leave when his tour ended; maybe he could fuck Jane or, maybe, like Sophie, Jenny and Tom, a threesome; but in which combination; which two of his sister, his aunt and Jane?


Chapter 17

Dave put his hand on her midriff and lifted himself on an elbow. He looked at Alice’s face and to his immense joy he saw her completely at ease. She looked up at him without any hint of tension in her any more, with no anxiety left – just happiness. He bent over to kiss her again and she put an arm round his neck.



“Would you really like to have a baby with me?” she whispered.



Dave nodded. “Yes,” he said. “You know, last night – I sat up for a very long time, and I finally realised how much I had missed the things that life’s about – warmth, and happiness, and an arm around your shoulder -” He stroked her hand – “and sharing what you like. When you started to cry at the concert – my ex would never listen to my records. She’d sing through them, deliberately out of tune. And I loved shopping with you, and I think we can share poetry and stuff… I’ll check with the airline tomorrow to see if there’s a seat for you, too – otherwise I will have to get new tickets on a different flight.”



“Maybe I can find a job in a hotel nearby there,” she said.



“No,” Dave said.



Her eyes opened wide as she looked at him.



“Oh dear,” he said. “I’m sorry. Just pull my ear when I act like this, won’t you? Of course you can, especially in summer. And you certainly should retain your independence, as much as possible. But I meant to say, why don’t you finish your studies?”



She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “Yes, I’d love to, of course. I may have a more interesting job then. Oh, I must tell them I’m leaving, tomorrow.”



“Will it be a problem for you to stop at once?” Dave asked. “I have only one more appointment tomorrow afternoon. I had planned to visit the library, and do some other things but they’re of no importance, really. We can have all day to show each other the things we like here, and you can show me a little of your history, if that’s not too painful. I’d really like to know.”



“No,” Alice said. “I don’t think it’s too painful – it will be good to get it off my chest. And I have a lot of good memories, too. I will tell them I want to stop straight away.”



Dave nodded. Then he grinned and said, “So where did you get those eyes? You father’s, or your mother’s?”



“I’ll show you,” she said. “Come.”



They got up and walked into the living-room.



“It’s strange,” she said. “I would never have thought I could simple be here stark naked with someone and not feel embarrassed – but I just feel so happy!”



Dave beamed. He looked at her and nodded, and tried to answer, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead he kissed the tip of her nose while he held her face with his hands. He nodded again.



She went to one of the cupboards and took an album.



“These are the photographs I’ve got,” she said.



Dave sat down and Alice sat on his knee. She opened the album and they looked at it together. There were a lot of pictures of a little girl with blonde corkscrew curls and a friendly-looking man with a moustache.



“That’s me,” Alice said, “and that’s my father.”



There was a picture of a woman who stared into the lens with unseeing eyes. Dave didn’t like her mouth very much; it showed discontent and reminded him of his ex.



“That’s my mother,” Alice said. “She’d already started using then, but it wasn’t too bad yet. You can at least see her eyes clearly in this picture.”



“Yes,” Dave said. “Isn’t there a portrait of your father?”



Alice nodded. She got up and took an envelope from the cupboard. Inside was an enlarged photograph of her father’s face. She looked at it and wiped a hand over her eyes.



She handed the picture to Dave. He looked at it. The features were only a little like Alice’s; but his eyes were the split image of Alice’s own, he thought.



“You’ve got your father’s eyes,” he said. “That’s lovely.”



Alice nodded. She took the picture from him, and put it back. Then she sat on his knee again. She put her arms round him and rested her head on his shoulder.



“I am so happy with you,” she said, “but I also feel like crying – I wish you could have met him.”



“Yes,” Dave said. “I like his looks very much – and you can see in the pictures of the two of you how much he loved you. Why do you keep it in an envelope? We could have it framed and put it on the wall.”



She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “You won’t mind?”



“On the contrary,” he said. “I want you to feel it’s your place as much as mine – and luck didn’t leave you too much. But this is a wonderful portrait. Have you any more treasures?”



Alice shook her head. “No,” she said. “Anything that was of any value…” She let the sentence dangle. “I’m getting cold,” she said. “Shall we go back to bed?”



They cuddled together under the duvet. Alice stroked his chest, and then she ran a finger round his nipples. It made him shudder. He felt her buttocks with his free hand, and then he said, “I’d love to kiss you all over. May I?”



In answer Alice let go of him and rolled onto her back. She smiled at him. “Be my guest,” she said.



Dave slowly explored her body with his mouth. He loved the taste of her, and he liked the smell of her body. He went all the way down to her toes and then up again, and he stopped at her crotch. He looked up at her face with a question in his eyes. She smiled and nodded. “Please,” she said.



Dave made love to her slowly. He used the blade of his tongue first, and ran it along the length of her slit; then he found her inner labia and took them between his lips. He pulled at them a little before he stuck the tip of his tongue between them to taste her juices. Alice got the shivers from his treatment; not just because he touched the right nerves, but even more so because she could sense his love for her.



Dave went back to her labia with his tongue and eventually he slowly, slowly moved up to her clitoris.



“Oh, please, yes…” Alice said. She gripped his hair with her hands and pushed her pussy up to meet his face, and she came almost immediately. Dave lay his head on her thigh and waited for her high to subside. She stroked his hair and found his mouth with a finger. He kissed it.



When her breathing was steady again Dave stretched out beside her. “When you changed into your new outfit,” he said, “you were wearing some blue lingerie. Could you tell me about it?”



“Yes,” she said, surprised at the question. “I bought it after a nasty confrontation with my mother. She’s shouted at me and she called names, and said I was plain, and – I just wanted to feel desirable and nice and I went and bought it. It was really beautiful then. And I didn’t know if you wanted to have me as a courtesan, or what, and I decided that if you should want to have sex with me I wanted to look my best…” She smiled a little. “I know it wasn’t much, really. But I wish I had kept it. I – it did keep up my spirits a little, somehow.”



“I thought as much,” Dave said. “Er, it’s still there. Your smell was on your bra, and I just couldn’t throw it with the rest. It’s in my suitcase in the hotel.”



She let the implication of what he’d just said sink in. “Were you in love with me already then?” she said.



He smiled. “I think so,” he said. “But as I told you, I didn’t want to give in to my own feelings – I thought I’d be unable to commit myself again.”



“Uhuh,” she said. “I’m glad you’ve kept it.”



Then she rolled on top of him and felt for his cock. “Let’s make love again,” she said.



The next morning they went back to the hotel together. Alice went into the managers office and told him she wanted to give up her job. He was a little surprised, since he knew she was hard up, but she told him in a few words what he needed to know to understand her reasons. Alice had been a good worker; he paid her wages to the hour and wished her happiness. Alice thanked him and left the office.



“I’d like you to meet Mary Anne,” she said. “She’s the woman that fed me.”



They went to the kitchen together. Mary Anne, who hadn’t seen Alice for couple of days, was happy to hear nothing untoward had happened, and even happier for her when Alice told her she and Dave were going to live together in the provinces.



“Lovely, Alice,” she said. “I hope you’ll be very happy together.”



She kissed her and shook hands with Dave. “Coffee?” she said.



Alice looked at Dave. “Yes, please,” he said.



They had coffee together in the kitchen, and spent a pleasant ten minutes talking together. Then Dave and Alice took their leave.



They spent the morning shopping; Alice bought more dresses, some pairs of trousers, some more lingerie – and this time Dave took an active part in their purchases – and generally all they thought Alice might need.



They took the spoils back to hotel.



“We’ve forgotten to buy some trunks,” Dave said. “If we want to ship your things to Newport we can’t just ship paper bags.”



He opened his own suitcase and took out the bag he’d kept. “Look,” he said. “I’d love you to wear it for me.”



Alice looked into the bag and smiled. “Gladly,” she said. “Now?”



“Yes, please,” he said. “And I’d love to take it off of you tonight.”



She cuddled him for a moment and went into the bathroom to change. Like the other time she stepped out again to show him. He looked at her and somehow his eyes got wet. He took her in his arms, and held her as if she were about to run away. She smiled at him again.



“Come,” she said. “I’ll put my dress back on.”



Early that afternoon Dave bought a second ticket to fly them to Southampton. He finished his final appointment and then they took the tube to the outskirts. Alice held an arm round Dave’s waist as they walked to the house she was born in. She showed him a small, well-proportioned building that Dave judged to be about seventy years old. It had a small garden and looked well-kept. Alice pointed at a first floor window.



“That used to be my room,” she said. “I really loved this place.”



Then she showed him where the shops used to be, and they visited her old school.



“Let’s have a look inside,” she said.



They were met by an elderly lady.



“Hello, Mrs Jamison,” Alice said. “I used to go to school here and I’d like to show it to my friend. May we look around for a moment?”



“You must be Alice Green,” the lady said to her surprise. “You remind me of your father. I hope you take after him. Yes, you may look around; I will come with you.”



They made a short tour of the building and then Mrs Jamison took them into her office.



“I don’t want to intrude,” she said, “but I heard your mother died some time ago. Rumour had it she gave you a hard time.”



Alice nodded. “Yes,” she said, “she did. But that’s past and done now.”



“So,” Mrs Jamison said. “And what have you made of your life?”



“Well,” Alice replied, “I think I will finish my studies by the end of this year… I worked as a chambermaid for the last ten years or so.”



She briefly told her about her life; and then they went out into the spring sunshine again.



“She was a dear,” she said. “Very severe, and very just. I liked her a lot.”



They went to a bookshop first. Dave found a copy of Robert Frost’s Selected Poems and showed Alice The Road Not Taken.



“This is what made me realise I really wanted you, and that I would be an idiot if I let this one chance pass,” he said.



“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Alice said. “It’s really what life is all about. And sometimes — most times, I suppose — you simply don’t know the right road. But we both chose right. And we both found the crock of gold at the end of our rainbow; especially now its one rainbow for the two of us.” She looked at him with so much love in her eyes that it made Dave glow inside.



They went to one of the parks for the afternoon and walked, talked and had a good time.



Dave told her about his youth and his family, things they had not talked about yet, and they spent some time sitting on a perk bench watching the people going by.



They had early dinner at a small restaurant and then they went to hear Jean Françaix and a couple of other twentieth century French composers. The concert was pleasant enough but not as devastating as the first one had been.



They went back to the hotel. “I’ll get my toothbrush, my razor and pyjamas,” Dave said. “We can leave the rest here; it’s quicker to the airport and we have most of tomorrow to arrange things.”



“Do you really think you’ll be wanting your pyjamas, sir?” Alice said, looking at him demurely.



“My toothbrush and razor it’ll be, then,” he grinned, looking forward to undressing her.



In her room he took off her dress and first held a along time in her old lingerie.



“It really looks beautiful on you,” he said, “and I am very glad it’s still there.”



Then they made love, very gently and very long, and afterward they lay talking for hours while Alice held his head firmly against her breasts.



The next morning they bought some big trunks and packed most of Alice’s clothes in them, together with her stereo, the two books and her CDs; and they arranged for them to be taken to Dave’s place.



Then they went for a drink and from there they walked along the river once more. They ended up at the Abbey.



Dave hadn’t been there for ages, so he bought tickets and they went in. He wasn’t particularly religious, but this, he thought, a little awed by the surroundings, was a good place to propose to her. “It’s a little unnecessary an longer, perhaps,” he said. “But still – will you marry me?”



Alice nodded and kissed him. “I love being caught,” she whispered.

I first and absolutely foremost want to thank and dedicate this story and the following stories in this series to someone who I can only call my muse. She supports and encourages me. When I need it, she critiques and corrects me. She is a real godsend and she is a friend. Thank you Catheath, these stories are for you.



Next…these stories are total fiction. They all arose from my demented imagination. With respect to the Benedictines, I have no knowledge of their rules or their mission. Everything about them is made up, again the product of a warped mind.



So if you are a Benedictine or have intimate knowledge of them, that’s nice, but I really don’t want to know. It would require a big rewrite and that’s just too much work.



As with most of my stories, they start off very slowly, if you are looking for a quick slam bam thank you ma’am, look elsewhere.




*



I am going to hell.



I mean that very seriously. When I die my immortal soul is going to be damned. I will spend eternity in pain and torment. Burning and suffering forever.



And if the truth be known, I don’t care. I wouldn’t do anything differently. I will have had my heaven here on earth. I will die a happy man.



I it all started on the first day of my senior year at Saint Steven’s High School in Baltimore, Maryland. I had just turned eighteen in August just before school started. St. Steven’s logo was two red “S”s on a white background. We called it Sing Sing after that ancient notorious prison in New York.



I walked into homeroom early. I was always early, my Mom would drop me off and then take Mandy, my twin sister to St. Augustine’s before going to work. Mom had to be in her office by 7:45 am. Thus, I was always the first one in class. Usually, I would just drop my books by my desk and go back outside, that is if the weather was nice.



As I walked into the room I saw a nun standing looking out of the window. Her back was to the door. I knew that she was a nun because she was wearing one of those modified habits. You know, the black skirt that comes down between the knee and ankle and a white blouse. She was wearing a short black veil with a white band in front, I guess that held it on her head.



“Oh Christ,” I thought, “A nun for homeroom. We’re seniors, we shouldn’t have a nun for homeroom. This is not good.”



As I walked across the room she turned and in a voice that would put angel’s singing to shame, said, “You must be Zachary. I was told that you would be the first one in. I’m Sister Carol.”



When I looked over at her, I became lost in the bluest eyes that I have ever seen. She was beautiful. Never before had I seen a nun…no… never before had I seen any woman who was as beautiful as this nun standing in front of me.



Her face was clear with a soft peaches and cream complexion, her lips were rose petal pink and her hair was a reddish-brown. Her clothes were loose and baggy so that all you could tell was that she was slender.



As I walked to my desk, I stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights. The next thing I knew, I was falling over a desk. It went down with me on top of it. My books flew all over the floor. But, it did sort of bring me back to the land of the living.



Sister Carol came running over to me and when she saw that I was okay she sat on one of the seats and laughed. She had a soft sweet laugh, like the tinkling of crystal. I was sputtering and stuttering, trying to get up and somehow hide my embarrassment.



Sr. Carol laughed and said, “My goodness, Zachary. Do I look that frightening that you fall over desks trying to get away?”



“No, no, no, Sister you’re not frightening,” I gasped.



“Just hideous, huh.”



I finally found my voice and the words just poured out. A lot faster than my brain was working. My mouth just kept spewing out the words, “No Sister, you’re not hideous, you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seeeeeeeennnnnnn.” At this point I realized just who I was talking to and what I was saying. She was a NUN! You can’t say things like that to a nun.



Again I started to stammer. “No…no I didn’t mean that…”



She smiled and said “Then I’m not beautiful?”



“NO…no…no…I didn’t mean that, you are, but I ‘m not supposed to tell…”



She put her hand on my shoulder and laughingly said, “Calm down Zachary. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you go outside and come in again. We will start all over and act like this never happened.”



I got up, picked up my books and as I walked to the door, Sister Carol said in a soft voice, “Thank you, Zachary. No one has ever told me that before.”



Again my mouth took off and I said, “Then everybody must be blind.”



When my mind caught up with my mouth, I almost cried and said, “Oh god, oh god” as I literally ran out of the room, hearing her sweet laughter.



I went outside. I just wanted to run away, to go home and hide under the bed. I walked around the front of the building and then I slowly walked back to class and arrived about ten seconds before the bell rang. I was the last one to get to class.



As I came in the door, Sister Carol looked over at me and smiled as the bell rang.



“I’m Sister Carol, I will be your homeroom teacher this year. And you are?” she asked. Doing exactly what she said she would do; starting all over again.



Once again I was enthralled by her beauty, but this time I was able to speak…well almost. “I’m Zack, no, no…Zachary… Zachary…ah… Zachary Miller,” I stuttered.



She was laughing. “Well Zachary Zachary Zachary Miller, I think that I will just call you Zachary, if you don’t mind, it’s a bit easier that way.”



The whole class roared with laughter. They were all teasing and hollering at me, especially the guys and girls on the Swimming Team. I’ve been on the team since freshman year. They started a chant, “Zachary Zachary Zachary… Zachary Zachary Zachary.” Sr. Carol put a stop to that right away.



I muttered, “Thank you, sister.” and walked back to my seat. As I did Sister Carol said, “Be careful, Zachary, watch so you don’t trip over the desk.”



I could feel the back of my neck heat up as I reddened. I just wanted to melt into the woodwork. I went and sat at my desk.



During that first class, Sister Carol told us that she had recently graduated from MIT with a degree in mathematics and she had just taken her final vows. She would be with us in homeroom and Religion class and that if anyone was taking Calculus, AP Calc, or Trigonometry she would be teaching us that. Thus, she would be my AP Calc (Advanced Placement Calculus) and Trig teacher, for the whole year.



We were her very first class and someone said, “We’re your firsts.” Everyone laughed, but we kept the name. We were the “Firsts.” Not that it meant anything, but we flaunted it. I think that some of the other nuns didn’t like it but the brothers thought it was funny.



We had both nuns and brothers teaching at St. Steven’s. The Nuns were the Benedictines or the Bennys as we called them. The Brothers were the Christian Brothers de LaSalle (The French Christian Brothers) or the Frenchies. So for most of the four years we had religious teachers.



It turned out, amazingly, when I was in Sr. Carol’s classes, I didn’t just sit mooning over her. It was like my brain took in everything that she said. I had no problem with religion, not one of my favorite subjects and I flew through Calc and Trig, which turned out to be my favorite subjects. (I’m sure that you can’t imagine why) I understood even the most complicated problems the first time she explained it.



She was different; she wasn’t like a lot of the other nuns, she would joke with us and she would treat us like adults; except when we acted like children. Also, it was like she had no idea that she was even mildly attractive, never mind the most beautiful woman in the world. And it seemed that the other guys just saw a nun, not a woman…certainly not a very beautiful woman.



I would think about her, dream about her and even fantasize about her when I beat off. Yea, I really did. At first, I was horrified that I could think about a nun this way. But no matter how I tried, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. If I started to think about a girl in my class or even looking at a girly magazine, she would always morph into Sister Carol. For the longest time, I lived with the guilt and shame. It was a sacrilege to think about a nun like that.



That’s when I realized that I was going to hell. There was no way around it. My soul was so degraded that there was no chance of redemption. So…I just went with it. If I was going to hell then so be it, I was going to hell. How much worse could it be than what I was going through now? Having her so close but so far away.



Before I knew it, we had sent out our college applications and it seemed like an eternity before the colleges started sending out their acceptances and rejections. I had a lot of acceptances. I got a scholarship to the School of Engineering at Stamford University. I swore it was because of the recommendation letter that Sister Carol wrote. She played it down…but I knew differently.



I sent in my acceptance to Stanford, with the required deposit. The rest of the school year flew by and soon final exams were in, marked and we were just waiting for Graduation Day. On the last day of classes, we all met in our homeroom. We presented Sr. Carol with a sort of crystal thing that had some writing on it. As everyone was leaving I put a yellow sticky note on it. I didn’t sign it, but I don’t think that she would have a problem knowing who put it there.



After what seemed like years, on a Friday evening, the senior class was lined up and we walked down the center aisle of the auditorium and into our seats, the Commencement Ceremony had started.



The diplomas were handed out, I was the salutatorian and I received the Calculus medal. After Mary Beth, the Valedictorian gave her speech I had to get up and give one. As I approached the podium I saw that Sister Carol was sitting in the front row. Her face was lit up with a big smile. She was looking and smiling at me!



I put my notes on the podium and began. I have no idea what I said. I would try to look at other people in the auditorium but my gaze always returned to her. Finally I finished and it must have been okay because the audience clapped and the Swimming Team cheered like a bunch of loonies.



My parents were ecstatic and planned to go out to one of the best restaurants in town. My twin sister Mandy, who was the Valedictorian at her school and my older “brother,” Mark, his wife, Georgia and their two kids, Marky and Lissa were coming. It would be a gala affair. I would have to sit between the kids. They would have it no other way and I loved it. I would be teasing and being teased the whole night.



Mark, although technically my cousin, was more of a brother to Mandy and I. He is my Mom’s sister’s son. Mark’s parents were killed before my mom got married. And as she was his only relative, Mom took him. Dad married mom, knowing the situation; they raised him together. He calls my Mom “Mom” and my Dad “Dad”. When Mandy and I were born, he was there, I always have considered him my brother. And I am Uncle Zacky to the kids.



After the ceremony as we were walking out to the school lobby, Mom reminded me that I had to finish cleaning out my locker and take the lock. If I didn’t remove the stuff today, the custodian would cut the lock off and take everything inside and throw it away.



I ran up to the third floor, yea, I know a senior with a locker on the third floor, but that’s where it was. As I was putting everything in a plastic bag (there really wasn’t that much) I heard that angelic voice.



“I thought that I would find you here.”



I turned around and Sister Carol was standing there smiling at me. “I wanted to tell you just how proud of you I am. And I have a little something, for you. Just so you won’t forget me too soon,” she said as she handed me a small box.



I took the box and as I started to open it, I sort of mumbled, “I really don’t need anything to remember you, Sister.”



She smiled at me. I opened the box. There was a small silver charm, in the shape of those old fashioned eyeglasses.



“Maybe these will help you to see things the way they are.”



“Sister, I don’t need glasses to see things that way.”



“Well then, maybe they will keep you from tripping over desks at Stanford.”



“I can guarantee, that I won’t be tripping over any desks at Stanford,” I said with a grin. “You won’t be there.”



“Zachary, you are incorrigible,” she laughed. And she actually turned a little red. Then she leaned over and gave me a light kiss on the cheek. “I wish you the best of luck, but the way you work, you won’t need any. You’ll make your own.”



I was stunned, she kissed me. I was in heaven. I just stood there, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t think. It felt like I was there for hours, in a dreamland. But, then I heard my fathers voice from the stairs, “Zack, lets get going, we have reservations for seven.”



He walked into the hall and said, “Oh, Sister, I was hoping that I would see you. I really want to thank you for all you did for Zack. That letter was absolutely wonderful…but just who were you writing about?”



She laughed and said, “I was writing about one of my favorite students.”



Dad was smiling, “Well since you are a nun, I won’t comment on your choice of favorites.”



And with that she took her leave and walked away. I watched her until she turned the corner.



As I was finishing up at the locker, Dad was teasing me, “You really like her don’t you? Well I can understand she ain’t bad looking. But, I guess that I have nothing to worry about she is a nun.”



I complained, “Oh come on Dad, stop, she’s really nice.”



He laughed and we went down to the lobby. The whole class was there with parents and relatives. We were saying goodbye, exchanging phone numbers and e-mail addresses. Eventually we headed for the restaurant and the dinner was everything that I expected, perfect.



The summer flew by. I had a summer job, working at my Father’s friend’s warehouse; I was what was referred to as a runner. Me and another guy, Jake had to get stuff from the warehouse for the guys at the counter. It would be Zack, get me 500 lag bolts; Jake get me a hundred feet of cable, etc. It was hard work but not all that bad and it did keep me in shape.



All of a sudden, it was the end of August, Dad and I were heading out to a place called Palo Alto, California, to Stanford University. I was quickly settled into my dorm room and Dad headed home. I must say that I had a great time with him.



It took a few weeks but I finally got comfortable with my classes and the school. I joined the Army ROTC. My roommate was in it and it turned out to be a lot of fun (most of the time). The good thing was that the Army would pick up the difference between the scholarship and room and board.



I would graduate a Second Lieutenant, and have a six-year commitment. A year or two in one of the combat arms and the rest in my area of study, engineering. Mom wasn’t happy about me joining the Army, but dad was elated that he only had Mandy’s room and board to worry about, yea she got a full scholarship to Penn State.



The four years flew by and before I knew it I graduated with a degree in Marine and Naval Engineering and was a newly commissioned Second Lieutenant in the United States Army. Yea, I know Marine and Naval engineering…in the Army, what can I tell you?



My first duty assignment was Fort Jackson in South Carolina for infantry training. Finishing that I went to Fort Benning for Airborne School. There were three of us “Shave Tail Looies” who went through Infantry training and Jump School together. We hung out together, went out drinking together and we all decided that three big, virile, macho guys like us should go off to Ranger School, together.



Well, we spent 61 days going through absolute hell, in the desert, the jungles and the swamps and mock-ups of towns and cities. But in the end we got to wear the Ranger tab and were all assigned to the 75th Ranger Regiment. And to a man we ended up in Iraq and later in Afghanistan. You know enjoying the scenery, the food and the adulation and hospitality of the friendly Taliban (yea right).



In training I got the nickname of “Papa”. I would take care of the other two. Get them out of trouble and get them back to the barracks in one piece, just being a papa.



However, when we got to Iraq and later in Afghanistan, the name changed to Papa Swiss. It seemed that every time I went out I would come back with a hole in me. It would be from shrapnel, or a ricochet, whatever but it would be a hole. Not enough to get me sent home but just enough to sometimes get a day in the field hospital. Most of the time nothing was done other than a bandage or a band-aid.



The joke was that if Papa Swiss were a wheel of cheese, he would be rejected because he had too many holes.



This went on until I was about half way through my second tour in Afghanistan. Things sorta went wrong. I ended up minus a left kneecap and a whole bunch of muscles and stuff. This time it was enough to get me out of Afghanistan, to Germany and then back to the States. After they replaced everything with stainless steel and porcelain, it got me out of the Army, too.



So, within six months of being wounded, I was back in Baltimore. My Mother was beside herself with joy. Her wounded son was home and he wasn’t going back. She took it upon herself to fatten me up. But I guess that being a Ranger stuck. I watched what I ate and worked out like a demon, getting back into shape.



One of my buddies, Terry Matson, had an uncle in the ship building business. Thus, three months after being discharged, I was gainfully employed as a marine engineer. Who says nepotism is a bad thing?



The biggest part of the company’s business was working on military vessels, but it also had a recreational division. I worked with the military division. However, another young engineer named Mark and I would, in our off time, tinker with sailboats, something we both loved. We developed a new type of keel for racing sailboats. The idea worked and the bosses were really happy. It meant a rather big bonus and a lot of good publicity for the company and they even made some money on it. And if based on the continuing bonuses, quite a bit of money, I would imagine.



A few months after the keel had been released, the company was asked if one of us could speak at a symposium that was being held in St. Louis, Missouri. Mark went into a panic, doesn’t like to talk in front of people, so I was sort of asked to go. And of course I said yes, like I had a choice.



The people at the symposium paid for everything. And they went first class. Everything was top shelf. As I was going to be speaking in the early afternoon on Monday, after registration, they requested that I get to the Hotel on Sunday. So on a Sunday afternoon, after a long day, an even longer flight and an endless cab ride from the airport to the hotel, all I wanted to do was have a very large bourbon and get to bed.



But, as Bobby Burns said about the best laid plans…they “gang aft agley.” I had gotten a call from Terry Matson and when he found out that I would be in St Louis on Sunday evening he went nuts. Both he and Bobby Goldberg were on TDY (Temporary Duty) at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri.



He said that they were going back to Benning on Monday afternoon, but that left all of Sunday evening and night to ParTAY. They were only 130 miles from St. Louis so it should only take them about 45 minutes to get to the hotel. “That is if I drive,” Terry laughed.



Terry’s wife Rachel and Bobby’s wife Miriam were with them. And the girls would be overjoyed to see Papa again. “Shit man, we’ve missed you.”

When I got to the hotel I checked in and went to my room, which turned out to be a suite. I unpacked, changed and went back down.



As I walked through the lobby looking for a place to sit and wait, I heard the angels sing. “Zachary, Zachary, Zachary Miller?”



I turned around and my eyes gazed once again upon the most beautiful woman in the world. In an instant, I was an eighteen year old high school senior, walking into homeroom for the first time. It was like I hadn’t left her class, I felt everything that I felt that first day in senior year of high school



But this time she wasn’t wearing a habit. She was wearing a lovely light pink blouse, the top two buttons were open. It wasn’t enough to show any cleavage, but it gave a hint of her breasts below. She had on a beige skirt that came just above her knees. Her calves were slim and shapely, she was wearing sandals. Her hair was cut short and was golden red.



I was lost. It was like in those silly romantic movies when everything fades out except for the beautiful woman in front of the hero. I was in a daze as I slowly walked toward her. Then I stopped, gave a little start and looked all around.



Sister Carol looked at me in alarm. “Is everything alright, Zack?”



I looked up at her with a smile and said, “Just checking to see if there were any loaded desks around.”



Sister Carol started to laugh and took both of my hands in hers. “Oh Zachary, what a surprise to find you here. A wonderful surprise. What brings you to St. Louis?”



I held on to her hands, never wanting to let go. I looked into her eyes and said, “I’m attending the symposium, giving a talk about an innovation my collogue and I made to keels for racing sailboats.”



“I’m scheduled to talk tomorrow in the early afternoon, so they wanted me here tonight. But what are you doing here? The last I heard, you were teaching somewhere in the Mid-west.”



She smiled and said, “I’m at the Math Conference and I’m also talking tomorrow, but in the morning. That’s why I came in today, the conference people are paying for everything but my meals. So I have to fend for myself. This is the first time that I have ever talked at one of these conferences and I am so nervous.”



I gave her hands a little squeeze, “Don’t worry, I know that you will do just fine. Everyone will love you, and since you have to get your own meals, you can’t turn down my invitation to dinner.”



“You don’t have to do that, Zack.”



“I know, but I want to, I am sure the Order has you on a tight budget, so I have every intention to take up the slack.”



I went on, “In fact, this evening I’m having dinner with a couple of Army buddies…”



“Zack,” she interrupted, “Certainly, you don’t want me along with a bunch of your Army buddies.”



“Well, the bunch is two and they have their wives with them. You will fit right in and it will be a lot of laughs. You will think that you are back at St. Steven’s”



“That’s not much of an inducement, Zack.”



I laughed and said, “Yea, I guess not but it won’t be that bad. As I said they have their wives with them, but there will be a lot of silliness.”



“If you are in the group, I don’t doubt that,” she giggled.



We found a couple of seats in the lobby and sat and talked. She told me about getting her doctorate and now teaching in a small university just outside of Santa Fe. She said she really enjoyed it.



I talked about work, mostly about the work on the keel and what it did as to the speed of the ship. She understood a lot of it, she asked questions and commented on what I had to say.



We just sat enjoying each other’s company for about half an hour when two rather large gentlemen (and I use that word very loosely) walked up to where we were sitting. One was a blonde and the other had dark hair.



I immediately recognized them. But, they seemed to be unaware of us. They were arguing with each other.



The blonde guy (Terry) said, “I’m telling you that’s not him.”



The dark haired guy (Bobby) said, “Believe me that is him. That’s Papa.”



Terry: “No it’s not. This guy here is fat, out of shape and ugly…really ugly.”



Bobby: “Well, Papa was fat, ugly and out of shape. That’s Papa Swiss.”



Terry: “Now I’ll give you, that Papa’s ugly, but this guy is the epitome of ugliness. I’m sure that Papa wasn’t that ugly.”



Bobby: “Let me explain, when you experience extreme and I mean extreme ugliness and then have it removed, like sent back to the States, your mind being so relieved, tends to pretty up the memory of that ugliness, so you don’t have to continue to experience it. What your mind has done, over time, is pretty up your memory of Papa Swiss. And I know this because I once took a psychology course in college.”



I was sitting and laughing as the farce played out. At first, Sister Carol didn’t know what was going on. But she soon figured out that these two were the friends I was waiting for and she sat back and enjoyed.



Terry was acting like he wasn’t convinced. Bobby then said, “Here, I will prove it to you.”



He reached down and grabbed my arm, pulling me up. He said, “Excuse me Sir. Will you please stand up?”



I got up and Bobby stood me in front of him. He took a really big breath and blew at my chest. Terry who was standing behind me, mimed like he was being plummeted by a gale force wind.



When Bobby stopped blowing, Terry shouted, “Christ, it is you Papa.” He grabbed me in a big bear hug and then dropped me and Bobby hugged me. As we stood there laughing, hugging and pounding each other on the back, Rachel and Miriam came up.



Rachel started to push Bobby and her husband away from me and said, “Leave Zack alone, you two. He’s ours now.”



The two women then wrapped their arms around me and began to kiss me all over my face. Their husbands just stood watching and Bobby said, “Uh Terry, do you think we should worry about this?”



Terry just laughed and said, “You’re talking about Papa. What’s to worry about?”



At this point Terry seemed to discover Sister Carol, sitting and taking everything in.



“Okay, Papa, enough. Now tell me, just who is this lovely creature,” he said is a very greasy voice as he took her hand.



Bobby waked over and said, “Wow Papa, she is beautiful…too bad she has no taste in men.”



Before I could say anything, Sister Carol stood and shaking Terry’s hand said, “I’m Carol Williams, Zack and I go back a long time. We just ran into each other this evening.”



Both Terry and Bobby took her hands and Bobby said, “By the way, I’m Robert Goldberg and he is Terrance Matson. And I know that I can speak for Terry when I say we are very pleased to meet you.”



Terry and Bobby continued holding her hands and Terry was saying, “You can do so much better than Papa. A vision of loveliness like you should have her pick of real men and not settle for a broken down old fart like that.”



Bobby added, “I have to agree, a woman as beautiful as you deserves something better than that patched up old soldier. Hell, he is being held together with bailing wire and duct tape.”



Carol (she didn’t introduce her self as Sister, so I wasn’t going to say anything) smiled at them and said, “Gentlemen, I think that you should return to your wives. That is, if they still want you.”



Terry roared and said, “Damn, I haven’t been put down so hard, since I first asked Rachel out.”



Rachel and Miriam squealed with glee, and Rachel giggled, “You two deserved it.” Then she turned to Carol and said, “Carol, I’m Rachel and this is Miriam. I have the misfortune to be married to that Neanderthal (pointing at Terry).”



Miriam then piped up and said, “And I’m married to that other one. You have to understand that we didn’t meet Zack until after we married these Bozos.”



Bobby grabbed his heart and fell back onto the chair and sighed, “Cut to the quick.”



Terry tried to reach behind him and said, “Stabbed in the back by the love of my life.”



This is basically how the whole evening went, although not as boisterous. But it was all teasing, joking and laughter. We left the hotel for a restaurant Terry knew. It was within walking distance of the hotel.



There was some time during dinner when Terry, Bobby and I talked business, they were telling me about things in the unit and we discussed some of the problems. This was when Carol, Rachel and Miriam had some time to themselves.



They told Carol how I got the nickname, and gave an explanation of the blowing at my chest. The holes in my body channeled the wind into a gale force.



At one point Miriam got all teary eyed (something that happens quite often, especially when she has had a drink or two) and said in a halting voice, “You have to understand, we love Zack more than you could know.”



Carol gave her a questioning look. Rachel finished Miriam’s thought. “If it wasn’t for Zack, we would both be widows.”



Miriam picked it up and said, “Bobby had a real hard time when Zack was cashiered because of the knee…”



“The knee?” Carol asked.



“Yea, he lost it carrying Bobby back. Bobby felt so guilty that he ruined Zack’s careered.”



Rachel looked at Carol in surprise and said, “You didn’t know why Zack is out?”



Carol smiled, “Zack and I haven’t seen each other in years. And tonight we didn’t have much time to catch up.”



Miriam went, “When we came in to the hotel lobby and saw the way that you were sitting and talking, we naturally assumed that you two were more than just friends or acquaintances.”



Carols eyes went wide, “Really?” she asked.



Rachel smiled, “Let me tell you something, girl, the way that Zack was looking at you, and I have to say the way you were looking back…”



“We all thought that you were lovers,” Miriam interrupted.



Carol gave them a small smile and said, “No that’s one thing we are not.”



“Well then you should be,” Rachel laughed. “You two make a beautiful couple.”



“It’s a bit complicated…” Carol said.



“You’re not married are you?” Miriam asked.



“No, I’m not…I’m a nun.”



“Oh my god, please forgive me…” Rachel said in a soft voice.



Carols smiled, “There is nothing to forgive. It is wonderful that you have such concern for him. I realized that he had a crush on me when was in high school, I Was his home room theacher and I will say that I am rather fond of him. I’m sorry if I misled you.”



“We just made assumptions and you know what they say about people who make assumptions,” Miriam laughed. “But, it’s just like Zack to want the unobtainable.”



At this point we guys interrupted the conversation and the silliness started again. After dinner we went to a club for a nightcap and a little dancing.



I asked Carol to dance, it was a fast dance and right after that a slow song started. I looked at her and we stepped closer. I put my arm around her and took her hand in mine. When we started to dance we were a bit apart but by the end our bodies were close.



I could feel her warmth as I held her close. As we moved with the music I became very comfortable holding this wonderful woman in my arms. The smile on her face and the way she was holding me, I don’t think I was wrong in thinking she felt the same way.



It was a little after mid-night when Carol and I said good-bye to the others. There were a lot of hugs, kisses and tears. As they were getting into the car, Rachel gave Carol one last hug. She looked at her and said, “I still think you make a beautiful couple…and I know that I will hate myself in the morning…think about it…what will make you happy.” Carol just smiled at her.



We stood and watched as thy started to drive away. Carol smiled as we waved and said, “They are wonderful people. They love you very much.”



As we started to walk away, I turned to look at the car one last time and I stumbled over my own feet. Carol caught me and prevented me from falling. We laughed and she took hold of my hand.



“I better hold on to you, I can’t have you falling and not being able to give your talk.” Then she looked at me and asked with a slight giggle, “Tell me Zack, is it me or do you always fall over things.”



I gave her hand a little squeeze and said, “It’s you.”



We walked back to the hotel hand in hand, through the lobby and into the elevator. Carol was on the seventh floor and I was on the thirtieth. We were the only people in the elevator. When it arrived at the seventh floor the door opened, Carol smiled at me. She put her hand on my cheek and moved toward me. She lifted her face and I lowered mine. Our lips met. The kiss was soft and loving.



She then pulled back. At first I thought that I saw fear in her eyes. But, then I looked at her and she was smiling. Her eyes showed something, but I wasn’t sure what it was.



“Good night Zack, thank you for a fantastic evening. I don’t know when I have had so much fun or when I have spent an evening with someone so wonderful.”



She turned and walked out of the elevator. I watched her walk down the hall until the doors closed and the elevator took me to the thirtieth floor. The doors opened and I walked to my room in a fog.



It was like I was on autopilot. I was just going through the motions, completely taken by what just happened. I had kissed Carol. I had been kissed by the most beautiful woman in the world. I lay back on the bed and I know that I fell asleep, because in an instant daylight was filling the room.



I looked at the clock it was only eight thirty. I had about two hours before Carol gave her talk. I wasn’t about to miss that. I was going to be there if I had to break the doors down.



I showered, dressed and went down to the restaurant to get a light breakfast. As I went into the restaurant I was met by a group of the symposium organizers. They wanted me to join them for breakfast. Of course I did.



Then I saw Carol come in with a group of people. They were talking and it was obvious that they were conference officials. She saw me and when our eyes met she smiled and waved. We had breakfast with our separate groups.



After breakfast, I went and found Carol in the lobby. I went over to her and we lightly hugged. She giggled, “I’m so nervous about giving this talk. It’s not like being in the classroom, here I’m speaking to my peers. They know as much about my subject if not more than I do.”



I smiled at her and said, “You will do great. I am sure that you are prepared and you do know your stuff.”



She came close to me and put her head on my chest and in an almost whisper said, “Zack, do you think you…”



I gave her a slight hug and said, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”



“Oh, thank you, Zack now there will be at least one friendly face in the audience.”



I gave a little laugh and said, “You will do just fine and everyone will love you.”



“You too?”



“Me, most of all,” I said as I gave her a slight hug.



Then one of the conference organizers came over and said they were ready for her. She asked if I would like to sit in and I replied, “Nothing would make me happier. Now I won’t have to sneak in.”



I went into the auditorium and found a seat. A few moments later, the woman who took Carol, came out and introduced her. She introduced her as Dr. Carol Williams, OSB.



Carol stood at the dais and looked around the crowd for a moment. She spotted me and smiled. Then she started talking. I could understand some of it, but then she started to speak Greek. Actually, discussing set theory and transfinite numbers…it was all Greek to me. But I didn’t care, I was in heaven watching and listening to her.



This was not like AP Calc, I didn’t understand much at all, but this was not so with others in the audience. Carol was about a half hour into her talk, when a woman jumped up really excited and shouted, “Do you mean…(Greek)…”



Carol smiled and said, “Not quite, but rather…(Greek)…am I making myself clear?”



The woman screamed, “Oh my god, I see what you mean, you have made it so cle…” She then looked around and said in an embarrassed voice, “I’m sorry, I just get so excited sometimes… forgive me.” And she sat down.



Carol laughed and said, “Believe me, I know what you mean.”



It seems that these people were in Carol’s AP Calc class.



A short time later Carol’s talk ended. She received a standing ovation. Then the questions started. For the next half hour she answered all of the questions asked.



After everything was over, Carol came over to me and looking up into my eyes asked, “Do you think that I did okay.”



I looked at her and laughed, “They all loved you…not as much as I do.” Carol looked at me and I laughed, “No one loves you as much as I do”



“Zack you are crazy”



“Yea, I know, I’m crazy about you.”



She looked at me giggled, “Zack, what am I going to do with you?”



“Love Me?”



“That goes with out saying.”



We went out for a light lunch, as neither of us had much of an appetite. She was coming down from her excitement and I was starting to get nervous. Carol was telling me that I would do well and that they would love me. She was doing for me what I had been doing for her.



We went back to the hotel and went in to the auditorium. I met with the organizers and about a half hour later, I was walking to the podium. I spied Carol sitting near the back and everything was fine.



After I finished talking and answering the numerous questions, the crown thinned out, going to various meeting rooms. I was alone in the auditorium. Carol walked over to me and we hugged.



“You were wonderful, I am so proud of you,” Carol whispered to me.



We looked into each other’s eyes, our lips came together and we kissed. This was not a light, easy kiss, it was filled with love and passion. I held on to her tightly and she was pushing her body into mine. Then a door slammed open and we jumped apart, both feeling a little awkward. I took her hand in mine and we walked out to the lobby.



As neither of us were interested in any of the breakout sessions that afternoon we walked hand in hand around down town St. Louis. Even though it was mid-April weather was prefect, cool and dry. We found a small park and sat and talked. I told her a sanitized version of the training, the times I was overseas and a very tame version of the times that I had been wounded and finally about the knee.



She told me about being sent to Butte Montana for two years after getting her Masters. Then to UCLA for her Doctorate. Finally, she was sent to a small university outside of Santa Fe, where she is now.



We ended up going to Busch Stadium, the home of the Cardinal’s and got tickets for that night’s game. They were playing Cincinnati, Carol’s hometown and she was a big fan of the Reds.



After a fantastic dinner, I have no idea if the food was any good, I don’t even remember what I ordered, we made our way back to the ball field. The game was close, but the Reds were able to pull it out, much to Carol’s delight. We were back at the hotel around 11:00 pm.



When we got into the elevator, a crowd followed us on. It was jammed, in fact two people had to get off as it was over weight and the doors wouldn’t close. Carol and I were pressed together and I put my arms around her. She rested her head on my chest and held me.



Many of the people on the elevator had been enjoying the convention and some were a bit drunk. When we got to the seventh floor, I had to push my way out of the elevator. As I did someone grabbed my ass and gave it a squeeze. I jumped and there was a lot of giggling, especially from Carol.



We got off the elevator and stood there looking at each other. I took her in my arms and pulled her close. She smiled up at me as I lowered my face and kissed her. It was a hard and lustful kiss. I felt her tongue slip across my lips and I opened my mouth allowing her to enter.



I caressed her tongue with mine and we explored each other’s mouth. They danced, wrestled and embraced. We made love with our tongues. She pressed her body into mine, as I did the same to her.

Before you read this work, please note that it is adult oriented and very sexually explicit. Also, it is very lengthy and broken into 10 ‘parts’ that should be read in order. Most of them will stand on their own, but certain nuances of the story will be better understood if each part is read in succession.



PART VIII (day 11)



I awoke the next morning with a ‘morning woody’ that, from what I’ve read, happens frequently to most men. Tiffany was still sleeping next to me, laying on her side with her back to me. I rolled onto my side, spooned my hard-on into her warm butt crack and put my arm around her, feeling for her tits. As she began to stir, I started nuzzling her shoulder and neck, placing soft kisses and gentle nibbles on them.



“Mmmmm…” came the sound from her before she stretched her right arm high into the air above us.



“Good Morning,” I said, continuing to snuggle and fondle her teenage body.



“Mmm…Morning,” she sleepily replied as she lowered her arm, placing her hand on top of the one I had on her breast. “What time is it?” she wanted to know.



“I don’t know, but I think I smell bacon,” I told her.



After playing around with each other for a brief period we decided that breakfast was in order, so we started to gather ourselves to make our morning appearance. Tiffany pulled my T-shirt on and I threw on the shorts from the night before, and we exited my room. We headed downstairs, stopping of at the john on the way. As we descended the staircase, it was obvious that I had indeed smelled bacon frying, it’s unmistakable aroma filling the air. We could hear voices and laughter coming from the kitchen and, from the sound, it seemed that we were the last to arise. But, in self defense, we were the last to turn in as well.



We rounded the corner into the kitchen and were greeted by the group. Saying our ‘Good mornings’ to everyone, I couldn’t help being caught a little off guard. To my surprise, and Tiffany’s too I think, Kelly and Cheryl were nude, except for Cheryl’s full length apron that she wore to keep the bacon from splattering her with hot grease. Glancing around again, I found that Paul and Tom were also in the buff, with Dave wearing only a towel around his waist. Mark was leaning against the far wall sporting only a very tight pair of Speedo style swim trunks that barely could contain his huge pecker. To say the least, I felt overdressed.



Tiffany, undaunted, made her rounds again that morning, greeting everyone in a very physical manner. She was even more brazen than she had been the day before, and openly groped each of the men as she kissed them. When she got around to Cheryl, she hugged her, chirping, “Morning Mom,” while her hands dropped down to massage the bare ass of the older woman. Kelly turned around and Tiffany moved to embrace her, the two of them locking in a deep french kiss that lasted several seconds.



When the kiss ended, they remained together, arms around each other’s waists. Kelly playfully pulled the back of the oversized T-shirt up, exposing Tiffany’s toned bottom to everyone. “Hey! Stop that. Some of us have a little modesty,” the teen chided with, you guessed it, a giggle. We all laughed and then settled around the table to enjoy the meal.



After we were finished eating and the dishes had been cleared and washed, we sat around having another cup of coffee and some conversation. At one point there was a period of silence, broken as Kelly began to speak.



“I have to tell you all that I really enjoyed yesterday afternoon,” she began. “I’ve had a lot of sexual adventures, but that was the best,” she said, and then continued. “I have had a fantasy to do that for a long time and haven’t had a chance to live it out,” she told us, confirming what Paul had conveyed the day before. “It seems like the timing or the people have never been right and I haven’t felt comfortable until now,” she explained.



Going on, almost in tears, she said, “You guys are great and I’m going to miss you all when this vacation is over.” After regaining her composure, she finished by grinning and saying, “But I have to tell you that my ass is pretty tender this morning,” referring to the sound spanking she had received.



Her last remark brought chuckles and comments from everyone with Paul mocking her; “Keep complaining and you might get it again,” he said.



You might have thought that it would have been a sexual free-for-all from that point on, but the happenings around the cabin went on with a good deal of normalcy. Albeit, the general rule was ‘clothing optional’ and most of the time the option was for very little, or none at all. I have to admit, it seemed a little strange at times, with people walking around and going about their business without a concern that they were totally naked.



And it remained that way the rest of the time we were there. I don’t think Cheryl ever put an article of clothing on the rest of the time. If I’m not mistaken, some of us were still nude when the two Hummers pulled up in front of the cabin to take us down the mountain. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself because, even though it wasn’t a continual fuck-fest, there was still plenty of action. For instance, later that same day I found myself sitting with Tiffany on the dock while she caught some sun. By now, of course, the T-shirt was long gone and her unclad form was stretched out on a long beach towel, face down. We were talking about various mundane topics when I remembered her comments to Kelly as she was fisting her, and I decided to question her about them.



“When you were fisting Kelly,” I breeched the topic, “You sounded like you knew what you were talking about,” I said. “Have you ever been on the receiving end?” I questioned bluntly.



“Uh-HUH!” she answered.



“Do it often?” I asked.



“No. Just a couple of times,” she said.



“Tell me about it,” I posed, wanting to enrich the visions that had filled my head the night before.



“Well…” she started, “The first time, I was with a friend of mine and her boyfriend.”



Proceeding she said, “He had cum twice and was out of it, but neither of us had gotten off.”



“Quick shooter, huh?” I chuckled, referring to the guy.



“Yeah he was,” she flatly replied before moving on with her story. “Anyway, she asked me if I was willing to try something she had seen done and wanted to try. I was game so she lubed up her hand and stuffed it inside of me.”



I was listening intently now and prodded, “And?”



“Not knowing what she was doing, she was a little too rough, but when I asked her to take her hand out, I had the most powerful orgasm,” she admitted with a chirp. “Then she asked me to do her. I was a little scared, but she really wanted me to do it. And after the way I had cum…I couldn’t keep that from her.”



As the conversation continued, she told me in great detail how she had fisted her friend to a mind blowing orgasm. Then she rolled onto her side and propped herself on one elbow to continue, “A couple of months later I tried it on Mom and she loved it too.”



“Has she done you?…Your mom, that is,” I questioned.



“Not really. She tried, but her hands are too big,” the girl returned with a bit of lament in her voice. “But we keep working at it and pretty soon I’ll be able to take her,” she grinned.



Again my mind filled with visions of the full-bodied Cheryl with her hand stuffed up the small framed blonde’s pussy. At the same time my dick began to fill with blood, pushing out the front of my shorts. “That’s something I’d love to see,” I confessed.



“How long have you and your mom been….” I was sort of at a loss for words, not wanting to seem crude.



“…fucking together?” the teen completed my question. “For a while now,” she vaguely answered.



Glancing around, she whispered, “You can’t tell anyone else; Okay?” I nodded my agreement and she went on. “Actually, since just before I turned seventeen,” she confided, and I could see why she didn’t want me to tell anyone else.



“Mom caught me with my boyfriend,” she started. “We were humping away like rabbits on our couch when she came home early from work,” she said. “She made him leave and I was grounded for two months. I think it was the best thing that ever happened to me,” she asserted with a confident sigh.



I gave her a puzzled look and she set about explaining her statement. “During the first month, I barely spoke to Mom. But during the second month, we slowly drew back together and had some long conversations about sex.”



Running her fingers through her hair, she continued, “I learned that my ideas about sex were all wrong and what a wonderful thing it could be…beyond the physical satisfaction, I mean.” Her intellect was showing in her speech, making her that much more attractive. “But I wasn’t very smart and went right back to humping my boyfriend when the two months were over. And, of course I got caught again,” she conceded. “Mom was furious, as you can imagine, and I was banned from ever seeing Kirk again.”



She went on, “After a few days and several heated arguments, Mom realized that she wasn’t going to be able to prevent me from having sex. When I got home from school one Friday afternoon, she was all dressed up in lingerie. She said ‘If you have to have sex, you will have to settle for doing it with me’.”



At this point I was hanging on every word and was almost expecting a punch line to come at any moment. If I hadn’t been a party to the activities of the last several days I would have thought her tale was, shall we say, imaginary. But somehow, I knew that she was telling me the truth. “So she taught you all about the finer points, huh?” I interjected.



“Yep. And a whole lot more!” the girl chuckled, then moved on with her story. “After about six or seven months, Mom knew that I needed more than female companionship and let me bring a guy home, but with one condition…” She paused and stared out across the lake, as if reflecting on the moment. “You should have seen the look on his face when he found out Mom was going to be present when he screwed me,” she laughed. “The next time I brought him home, Mom joined in and he got to do both of us.”



“Lucky boy!” I stated with a grin, speaking from experience.



“For the last year or so, Mom and I have shared several guys, and a few girls,” she concluded.



Wanting more sordid tales of her youthful escapades, I pressed her further, asking, “So what’s the craziest, wildest thing you two have been involved in?”



“This vacation!” she said with a chortle. “But there was one time; I had just turned 18,” she began. “We were at this party and the later it got, the drunker and bolder the men got. They kept feeling up all of the women as we danced,” she told me. “To be honest, their groping had me really horny and I was ready for a good fuck,” she stated brusquely. “One thing led to another, and before long, Mom and me were in the middle of them, stark naked, dancing with each other,” she said. “It wasn’t long before we were both sucking and fucking a long string of guys. I must have screwed fifteen guys that night. There were guys of all shapes, sizes and colors having their way with us, and at times we were having at each other too.” she related, as my excitement grew.



Tiffany went on with her story, “By the time it was all over with, both of us were covered in their cum.” Then, with a bit of a laugh, she admitted, “Boy, was my pussy sore the next day!” Looking down and picking at the towel she expounded further, saying, “But the down side was that almost every guy I sucked wanted to cum in my mouth. And some of them literally held my head to keep me from moving while they did. That’s why I don’t let just anyone do it now.” She explained, “It’s not that I mind doing that; It’s just that I want to be in control of it, I guess,” finishing with a shrug.



“Well, I know I sure enjoyed it that day on the trail,” I told her, genuinely appreciative, but in hopes of getting the treatment again before we left.



“Thanks,” she said with a contented smile, and then shyly acknowledged, “Well, just so you know, of all the lovers I’ve had, you are probably my favorite,” before smirking, “…so far.”



Then she sat up, crossing her legs ‘Indian style’, and looked at me with a serious look. “That brings up something I wanted to ask you,” she said before tipping her head downward, looking into her lap.



“What’s that?” I queried nonchalantly.



“There is something that I’ve never done, but always wanted to try,” she confessed quietly.



I sat there silently, waiting to find out what the ‘something’ was. Finally she said, “I’m a little embarrassed to ask,” and I was stunned. I didn’t think anything could embarrass this little nymph, at least not when it came to sex.



But, I encouraged her to tell me, saying, “It’s okay, you can ask me anything.”



Without looking up, she said, “What you did to Kelly yesterday. I want you to do it to me.”



Now I was really taken back and stammered, “You mean anal sex?” I figured, with her experience, she would have tried that long before now.



“Uh-huh,” came her meek reply.



My mildly hard penis came to full attention as I sat there dumbfounded. I certainly wanted to do the deed, but I didn’t want her to know just how eager I was to aid her in adding butt-fucking to her sexual repertoire. So, with an air of indifference, I assured her that I would be happy to help. She looked up with a wide smile and lurched forward to give me a big hug. You would have thought I’d just rescued her puppy from a burning building or something. Then she noticed my tented shorts and slipped her hand inside.



“Looks like you’re ready to get started,” she croaked as she pulled on my pecker. Most people would have wanted a little privacy, but if she didn’t mind doing it right here, neither did I.



I pushed her back onto the towel and then stood to remove my shorts. I had no more than dropped them on the dock before she pulled my dick into her mouth. Her lips moved effortlessly up and down my shaft for a few minutes and then I pulled free and started to crouch, guiding her back as I lowered myself between her legs. I slid back so that my face was positioned in her crotch and started licking up and down her bare slit. She sighed deeply and let out a low “Mmmm….”. I wanted to take my time and make sure that she was really hot before attempting an anal entry, so I munched her hairless pussy until she was grunting and groaning, her juices flowing freely.



When I felt she was sufficiently turned on, I decided to turn up the heat a notch, just to be sure. I slid up her body and inserted the tip of my cock into her wet hole, just teasing her with the first few inches for a short time, then slowly built up the length of my strokes until I was nearly fully inserted. Knowing that her tits were a hot spot, I lowered my head to her chest and started biting and sucking on them. It didn’t take much of this before she was moaning and twisting beneath me and I knew that she was climbing toward release. I didn’t want her to cum yet, though, so I stopped what I was doing and just laid there, kissing her, with my dick deep in her vagina.



“Are you ready?” I asked, knowing that she was.



“Uh-huh,” she replied, but still sounded a tad uncertain to me.



So I kissed her again, our tongues wrestling back and forth, letting her settle down just a touch. Then I went back to her tits with my teeth and started to slide my pole in and out of her hot little box. Again, it wasn’t long before she was climbing steadily toward orgasm and, again, I stopped and questioned her; “Are you ready?”



“Oh yeah!…I’m ready….Do it now, Mike,” she moaned. I was a little more satisfied with her exuberance this time, but continued to tease her for the next few minutes. I kept her right on the edge of climaxing until she wailed, “Fuck my ass….please, Mike, fuck my ass!”



Now I felt she was truly ready and replied simply, “Turn over.”



After I withdrew my cock, she pulled her legs up and quickly rolled her body, assuming a doggie-style pose. I raised to my knees and, at that moment, had a disheartening thought; We had no lube. I knew there was no way that I would be able to get in her virgin asshole without any lubrication, and was about to break the bad news to her when I remembered the tanning oil she had been using. I glanced around and found the bottle and picked it up. I flipped open the top, turned back to Tiffany’s delectable backside and squirted a small amount into the cleft of her ass. Still holding the bottle in one hand, I rubbed the oil between her butt cheeks with the other, and she wiggled her hind-end with an “Oooo!”



I dribbled a little more of the oil into her crevice and rubbed it liberally into the rosebud of her anus. She drew in a quick breath and then let it out, “Mmmm….” she mewed. After I had the opening well covered, I pressed my finger into it gently, with surprisingly little resistance. Slowly, I worked more and more of the digit into her until I could go no further. I stopped to let her anus adjust to me and then began a slow movement, pulling out and sliding back in, adding oil as I did.



I wanted to be sure this was an enjoyable experience and applied the oil generously, working it into her until it squished audibly with each insertion. Tiffany had been relatively silent during this ‘loosening up’ cycle and I wondered if she was having second thoughts. My concern was removed when she looked over her shoulder and lustily said, “Put your cock in me.”



I extracted my finger and squirted a fair amount of the fluid into my palm, which I rapidly slathered on my rigid dick. I snapped the bottle closed and tossed it aside before positioning myself to enter the teenager’s rectum. As I moved my dick head between her cheeks, she lowered her upper torso onto the towel, leaving her lean little ass hiked up in the air and wide open. I smeared the oil over her anus one last time and pressed the glistening head of my pecker against her wrinkled hole. I exerted a little pressure and the tip began to slip inside of her. She gasped as the head popped into her virgin opening, and I paused to let her relax.



After several seconds, I could feel her anal muscles begin to loosen their grip on the end of my penis, and she confirmed, “Okay.” I once more applied the pressure and, ever so slowly, began filling her ass with my shaft.



“Oh godduhhh…” she grunted as I neared halfway home. I stopped again, thinking she needed to adjust to my increased diameter, but the blonde insisted, “Keep going…. Oh God, keep going.”



I wasn’t going to argue and pushed more of my pole into her backside. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her face contorted as I pushed more and more of my oily cock into her rectal depths. As I completed my invasion, she arched her back with a loud, long, “Unnnnggghhh…..” She was panting like crazy, puffing the air from her lungs, and I was again concerned that she had gotten more than she had bargained for.



I held myself still for a moment and then started a slow mini-fucking, pulling out only an inch or so and pushing back in. As I did this, I could tell that Tiffany was becoming more and more accustomed to having my member in her nether region. The twisted expression on her face turned to one of bliss and her body became less tense beneath mine. Still, the grasp of her sphincter around my cock was tremendous and I’m sure that it must’ve felt like she had a log shoved up her ass. But, at the same time, it appeared that she was really starting to get into it, and I decided it was time for me to get serious.



I pulled my dick out until just the head was still inserted and paused, then slid about halfway in again. “Ohhhhh…” she moaned. I repeated this process three or four times and then began increasing the depth of each stroke until I was pushing nearly all of my meat into her with each thrust. As I found my rhythm, Tiffany was becoming more and more vocal, wailing, “Oh…Oh…Oh,” over and over, punctuating my drives into her tight asshole. At one point she broke the cycle, calling out loudly, “Oh god, Mike….Fuck my ass….Fuck my ass good!”

Categories
October 2017
M T W T F S S
« Feb    
 1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
3031  
Categories