Dearest Avid Reader…

I haven’t been writing much recently and for that I apologise. That isn’t strictly speaking true but what I have been writing isn’t for publication and has proven to be quite difficult. I’m not sure that it will ever see the light of day and there is a sort of time limit involved with it.

‘Anyhoos’ as a friend is apt to say, ‘Man’s Greatest Achievement’ and for all we know it was a woman who discovered it, almost seems more likely!

Some say it is putting foot on the moon. Or the invention of Penicillin, possibly that circular object, the wheel of more precisely the rotating axle. Lots of different devices and ideas vie for this mantle, the computer or the World Wide Web or the discovery of the fabled G-spot or all the things the Roman’s gave to us (or nicked from other civilisations). Language and the recording of it could also be a contender. The preservation of food, even the refrigerator could lay claim to the title but all of them pale against that one achievement.

An achievement that made all of the above possible or at the very least improved upon those inventions or ideas (with the possible exception of the G-spot). Mind you is the G-spot better for having hand held battery powered devices to reach and stimulate that fabled locale? Or so I’ve been told as I do not have the ability to experience that particular sensation first hand!

The apple that was plucked from the tree in the Garden of Eden could be an allegory of this very idea. The corruption (?) of innocence and the ‘device’ that led to the creation of civilisation and our ability to exploit our more base desires.

Where would we be without Fire?

Strictly speaking, the ability to control fire!

Of late I’ve been burning down the house, albeit in small controllable quantities, burning century old wood in the darkness. Waging war against the night, watching the almost liquid ebb and flow of the flames as they release energy in a chemical cascade that if physics didn’t allow for it would mean that we would still be fighting against the beasts and nightmares of the primordial night. How something so harmful and potentially dangerous can be so fascinating as each hydro-carbon molecule gives up its binding energy in sacrifice, igniting its next door neighbour and the one after that and so on.

My eyes dance across the thermal landscape before me, staving off the cold of night as it did in eons past back to that first bunch of Neanderthals huddled around its glow in a cave fending off the cold and the more dangerous beasts who only lack the size of brain and the folds without to realise that this danger possesses freedom and safety. Light and shadow forming shapes that exist within my own imagination as the presence of water and less flammable combinations of atomic design dictate the patterns revealed. That old second law in action!

A last gift released from timbers that have kept the occupants of my house safe against the elements since the nineteenth century. Could those recollections be portrayed in those fleeting pictures? I suspect they are mere reflections of my own and tribal memories. Animals and faces always seem to be there when I gaze within the controlled inferno, perhaps a return to that pre-history cave and the predators lurking without and the allies within. I’ve more wood to burn, most now modern with no ‘real’ memory but I will gaze deep into the blaze and dream.

FtF

Back a while I posted some spoilers, now here’s the third completed of those four. Not sure if and when I’ll do the fourth, one of those stories that keep changing within my head. Anyhow I hope you all enjo this offering…

FtF

______________________

He held her hand as they rose up in the lift. He wondered if the digitalized and bastardized music annoyed her as much as it did him. Of course he knew all the tunes that the ‘tinny’ little speakers played except for one and he was glad that it wasn’t playing now. It had taken him probably six months to decipher the bland computerised beeps of all the other songs that played on the continuous spool. At least five of the twenty or so songs were out and out classics and if the composers weren’t dead yet they might just ‘off’ themselves so they could spend eternity spinning in their graves.

Her hand clenched his tighter the higher up the building they moved. “Kill or cure?” she had said that morning and he saw the icy resolve within her eyes as she decided to confront her fear. He had to think hard, it was over two years since they had started going out and they had now been living together for five months. He admitted to himself that he hadn’t liked the look he had seen on her face that morning. The hard edge to her expression had polluted the soft smile she normally wore. She definitely had strength to her character, she needed it to work in the hospital critical care unit, but it always remained beneath the surface.

He squeezed back as the digital numbers on the display climbed towards twenty-five. Her nervousness was infecting him and his heart ached to imagine what she must be feeling. Her breath sounded ragged within the small confines of the lift. The machine beeped loudly dragging him from his reverie and the doors slid open. “Look Amy, you don’t have to do this. We can go back down it’s not a problem.”

The door began to slide shut and she reached out with her free hand to stop its progression. “Now or never… now or never.” Her voice tailed off and for a few more seconds she remained still. The lift beeped angrily and Amy stepped out of the lift onto the highest floor of the building. Jack walked with her and guided her to the right. It was the weekend and apart from a couple of workaholics the only other people in the building were security. He led her down the carpeted corridor past the glass doors to the office suite which occupied the entire top floor and, Jack assumed the most costly in the building and because of its situation in one of the most expensive cities in the world probably one of the most highly priced places to park your ass while at work anywhere.

He lad his girlfriend to a small door which was painted the same colour as the wall and typed a six digit code into the lock before opening it to allow her through. They stepped from exquisite and luxurious decor into a simple concrete staircase with completely utilitarian lighting which switched on automatically as it detected their presence. Amy still held his hand as she climbed the steps in front of him. As usual his eyes dropped to the curves of her ass beneath the dark blue, mid-thigh skirt she was wearing.

Her stride was confident as she ascended in the narrow space, the solidness and permanence of the re-enforced concrete calming her from what lay ahead. The num of machinery grew steadily louder till they climbed the last steps which were made of metal onto honeycomb steel plating which branched left and right between huge air-conditioning and ventilation units which fed the building below. Pipes and ducting snaked in every direction, a myriad of cables ran along above their heads on galvanised tray forming the nervous system of the building keeping all the suits in their plush offices at their preferred optimum temperatures. Amy looked to her right and at the very far end of the walkway a large slatted metal doors allowed bars of daylight to shine through into the ‘Morlock’ world.

Jack looked at the central control panel in front of him happy to see all the indicators showing green before he turned Amy around to see identical slatted doors at the opposite end. “We should head out this way…”

Amy was once again breathing heavily, “It… looks sunnier at that end?” she queried loudly above the noise of the machinery.

“It is, but it’s also a lot windier on that side and trust me, there’s plenty of sunshine on the east side and a far better view…” he regretted the last comment almost immediately as he saw his girlfriend’s pupils shrink. “I mean there’s… there are more touristy things to see… the actual view is the same, err… if you know what I mean” he shut his mouth before his words increased Amy’s anxiety any further.

Her hand gripped his even harder as she looked at the ‘East’ door, “I know what you mean even” she leaned forward and gave him a light kiss on the mouth. “Time to face the music…” Amy walked just in front of Jack her heart in her mouth as the relative size of the doors grew in her vision. It seemed an eternity and an instant before they reached them and Jack’s hand took hold of the large yellow leaver which opened the right hand door.

“Ready?”

“Yes” Amy replied shaking her head.

Jack pulled the lever and the door began to swing open. Amy looked up as she heard a loud ‘clacking’ sound above her to see what looked like a large mechanism from a wind-up toy let out a heavy steel chain. She was about to ask Jack about it when she realised it prevented the door from being dragged open by high winds. Her gaze dropped as the vista beyond was revealed to her. Even though they were still over thirty metres from the edge of the building she could still see a significant area of London spreading out towards the horizon. Jack’s eyes dropped to Amy’s skirt as it blew up with a gust of wind revealing her white lacy knickers beneath.

The view literally took her breath away and for those few short moments she forgot about her vertigo. The spell was broken when she inhaled and she felt her knees beginning to buckle. Jack’s hands slid around her waist and she leant back against him as she felt the very old familiar sweat coat her entire body. “Fuck” she breathed. The panic subsided a little with her boyfriend’s close proximity and her vision came back into focus. “Sorry” she apologised.

“Look babe, it’s a big first step, we can come back another time” replied Jack.

Amy grinned to herself as she remembered her Granny’s phrase, time to girdle your loins, m’dear. “Now or never… I think…” she stammered. She stood up straighter, her ass pressing against Jack’s crotch: the smile remained as she felt a definite swelling behind his zipper. Sex! she thought to herself but took a little comfort from the fact her boyfriend thought the quivering mass she had become was at least still slightly attractive.

Taking hold of his hands wrapped around her waist she tentatively stepped forward beneath the large satellite dishes that adorned the roof. It took almost five minutes to cover the thirty metres before her midriff pressed against the railing encircling the flat roof. Her eyes remained locked on the far horizon as her heart pounded in her chest.

Jack was blushing, partly because of the hot sun beating down and the strong wind pressing against them but also because his cock was misbehaving. Since leaving the ‘safety’ of the Services Building on the roof he had hugged Amy every step of the way towards the edge of the roof. He’d always loved her ass and today was no exception as his crotch pressed against it with every small step wishing that he could have followed at a short distance and watched her skirt rise with the wind. He felt a sense of betrayal as his mind kept thinking of her pussy instead of her phobia. When they reached the railing on the third highest building in the country he had tried to allow a little ‘breathing space’ but Amy’s hands had held him to her as tightly as ever.

Amy felt light headed, although her eyes remained fixed on the distance she could still see the ‘oh so long’ vertical drop just a metre in front of her and was aware that the few people walking along the concourse below did indeed seem like they were busy little Army ants in the hive of the financial district. “How are you coping?” asked Jack.

Amy gulped and replied, “I… I’m coping…” she stuttered as her she tentatively reached out and gripped the railing. The movement pressed her ass against her boyfriend’s crotch and his swollen cock within, “You’re feeling horny and I’m scared shitless, have you been a sex fiend all your life?” she asked with a grin.

Jack blushed “Don’t know, it isn’t over yet.”

The grin on Amy’s face faded as she started to draw her eyes closer; when she was looking at the nearest tall building she began to feel nauseous and instinctively closed her eyes drawing deep breaths into her lungs. She wasn’t sure whether or not she was going to faint when she felt Jack’s lips on her neck and one of his rough hands slide down over her hip. “I don’t think… that’s going to help?”

His lips moved up to the shell of her ear, “A distraction, maybe a pleasant one?” he whispered.

She stood still with her eyes still tightly shut and felt the calloused fingers reach to her bare thigh as his hot breath descended along her neck. Some chance of getting in my pussy Amy thought as all of her muscles seemed to be locked up tight. Still it wasn’t unpleasant as his lips nipped at the base of her neck and his fingers stroked the front of her thigh beneath her flapping skirt. Even with the strong breeze she could feel the sun warming her bare legs and arms as Jack’s fingertip made small circles getting ever higher up her leg. Her feet edged apart as that gentle digit slipped inwards between her thighs and he pressed the bulge in his jeans rhythmically against her ass.

She was chewing on her bottom lip as his other hand slipped upwards, his thumb and forefinger sliding along beneath her left breast. She felt her nipple, already stiff from the wind ache in anticipation as his thumb slid upwards missing it by a fraction of an inch. She moaned quietly, the sound lost in the wind as his finger traced the edge of her knickers. A shiver ran through her as she felt the gusset chill in the wind and realised she couldn’t deny that if she hadn’t been turned on before through the natural flight or fight response of facing her fear, she was now. She shuffled her feet further apart as Jack’s lips descended and kissed her lightly through her top down along her spine.

Amy was responding to Jack’s caresses and hadn’t told him to stop. He hoped that it was because she wanted him to carry on rather than being struck dumb with terror. As his finger tip slid along her gusset he felt the dampness that had seeped out from between her lips and had chilled as the wind had blown across it. He squeezed her nipple through her top as he bent his knees grinning to himself. He’d always wanted to have sex up on this roof but had always thought Amy would never get over her vertigo. His cock throbbed within his jeans as it slipped away from her ass. Amy’s feet moved further apart as she moved her hips forward pressing her encased pussy lips harder against his searching finger till it rested upon her clit. a tiny shudder rippled through her body.

The adrenalin was pumping hard through Amy’s body and her heart was thumping loudly in her chest but she could sense every single caress from her boyfriend. The dizziness still remained in her head but it was greatly reduced as she felt him trace small circles around the hard little nub at the top of her slit. She could feel her lips slipping against each other as her pussy moistened with every passing second and her clit ease out of its hood. Jack’s hand dropped away from her aching nipple and slid down across her stomach to wrap around the top of her left thigh urging her backwards. Shakily she moved her feet back over the gravel till she was bent at the hips, her hands folded beneath her on the rail and her head hanging beyond it. She slipped her hands and arms beneath the rail and pressed her bosom against the cold tubular metal, electric sparks flew from her erect nipples as she dragged them minutely from side to side.

Jack ignored the pain from kneeling on the stones as he rotated his finger quicker over Amy’s clit and lifted her skirt from behind with his left hand exposing her glorious cheeks. As always he gave each of them a playful nip before hooking his finger beneath the lacy material of her knickers and pulling them to the side exposing her neatly trimmed and now wet pussy. “Oh I so love pussy…” he murmured to himself as he manoeuvred his right hand, breaking contact with Amy’s clit for a second as the barrier of lace moved aside. She moaned loudly as the pad of his thumb unsheathed her clit completely from its hood and his tongue slid along her lips from behind.

“Oh fuck…yess” muttered Amy as she pressed her nipples harder against the unyielding metal and felt Jack’s tongue stiffen and push inside her. She rocked back and forth a little in time with his thrusting tongue and his talented thumb. She wanted to see all those people below walking around unaware that high above them she was getting tongue-fucked and that she could already feel her orgasm building. She pressed her chest harder against the railing, tiny lightning bolts earthing against the metalwork as her pussy trembled around Jack’s invading tongue and her clit throbbed beneath his thumb. She pushed her hips backwards against her boyfriend’s face, his nose rubbing up between her cheeks across the sensitive patch of flesh just short of her rear hole. “Come on you fuck…” she gasped.

Jack drove his tongue as fast and deep as he could as he felt Amy push back, the insides of her pussy was hot and wet as the thick creamy juice cooled rapidly as it dripped down his chin and neck. Reaching down he awkwardly unbuckled his jeans and pulled down his zipper slipping his hand inside to grasp his erection tightly. Jerking his hand in time to his probing tongue he shivered as the wind blew across the re-cum soaked glans as he exposed it to the elements. He began to lose his rhythm as the head of his cock trembled with the sensation and he could taste that Amy was quickly approaching her climax as her juices grew slightly sweeter. Reluctantly he released his cock and reached beneath her to slip his hand up beneath her top and push her bra up freeing her nipple.

Amy began to moan louder as her pussy began to clamp around Jack’s tongue, his cold fingers slipped between her breast and the railing and pinched her throbbing nipple her. “FUCK!” she screamed thrusting her hips back and pressing her chest down oblivious to the fact she was crushing her boyfriend’s fingers against the railing. Her eyes flickered open for a second and she looked down at the street below. Her slit clamped tight around Jack’s tongue and a surge of pussy cream squirted into his mouth and down his chin before eh closed them again. “OH CHRIST!” she shouted.

Jack felt his tongue squeezed hard within his girlfriend’s pussy and the rush of juices spurting out. He heard about such things but had never experienced it before with Amy or any of his previous girlfriends. He had to pull his tongue free from her slit and dragged it up between her cheeks, flicking across her anus as he did; he quickly stood up behind her, his jeans crumpling around his ankles as he took his throbbing erection in his hand. Amy moaned as she felt him drag the engorged glans along her slit, spreading her feet still further apart. Jack rocked forward sliding his length along her lips coating the top of it with her juices as his rough hands grasped her hips. He looked out across the maze of tower blocks as he lined up the angry head of his cock with her soaking pussy. His broad grin turned into a moan as he had to push hard to get the head of his manhood inside her.

Amy groaned loudly as she felt Jack’s cock seem to stretch her unlike all the times before. She knew it was because her pussy was clamped almost shut but he felt huge within her. She pushed back against him determined to get him all of his cock inside her despite her fear. “Open your eyes” hissed Jack.

Amy forced her eyes open and stared down into the ‘abyss’ as Jack’s fingers sunk into the flesh of her hips and her cunt yielded to the pressure from his cock. The two of them moaned together as the Amy’s muscles gave way allowing him to fill her completely. Jack felt Amy’s hot juices squeeze out around his hardness coating his balls and upper thighs. For the first time Jack closed his eyes as his balls jerked within his scrotum and emptied their cargo deep inside his girlfriend. Vaguely he thought about premature ejaculation as wave after wave of bliss enfolded his senses as his balls spasmed within their sac.

Amy stared at the void in front of her, aware of the potential drop that had previously brought her out in an adrenalin fuelled chill and paralysis when even thought about. Now all she could feel was her cunt squeezing and milking her boyfriend’s throbbing member as tremor after tremor rippled through her body. She could feel the glands within her working to produce her sweet tasting lubricant to a degree she had never known. The orgasm she experienced dwarfed the fear she knew she should feel because of the fear she was feeling. She looked down the precipice at all the ‘little’ people below and wished that they could feel a single percent of what she was feeling now.

Time had chosen its own pace and the two lovers were lost in their own personal Nirvana’s before they once again became aware of each other. Amy’s pussy had massaged Jack’s spent cock till eventually it had expelled it from its spasming haven. Eventually Amy’s mind had returned and her fear, although not as acute, had returned.

The two of them had returned to the ‘safety’ of the Services Building far quicker than their journey to the railing. “So, have you overcome your fear?” Jack asked once the door had closed on the outside world.

She kissed him softly yet deeply, “I think it may take some more sessions…” she replied when she broke the kiss. “Tell me, Jack, what do you fear?”

Jack smiled as he wondered was there such a thing as a morbid fear of threesomes…

The End…

“The ungrateful bastard” I muttered to myself walking through the empty feeling flat. Tony had been called away to the other side of the continent on work. We had planned a pamper weekend for the two of us and now there was just me. And how does he tell me? A message left on my voicemail and a scribbled note on the kitchen table. I looked at the note again. “Too fuckin’ right m’laddio, me n’ Miche are going to spoil ourselves rotten! I ain’t so sure I’ll be in the mood next weekend fucko to have anything made up to me!” I wanted to cry as I had been looking forward to a weekend of massages, saunas, tanning and fucking all month. Well at least Michelle would appreciate the massages, saunas and tanning.

The only thing I could forgive Tony for was that he had managed to get hold of Michelle and that she’d been able to swap shifts at ‘Temptations’ so her Saturday and Sunday would be free.

The flat, ‘our’ new flat for seven weeks now, seemed to be full of creaks and moans with just the one warm body in it. I almost jumped out of my skin as Jerry sidled around my ankle mewling plaintively for food. “Okay, okay there are three warm bodies but you ‘n Tom just don’t…”my voice tailed off as Jerry sat back on his haunches and did his Meercat impression. I stamped into the kitchen followed at a safe distance by the tabby to see his brother sitting patiently by their empty bowls. Opening a couple of sachets of food I filled two clean bowls and watched them tuck in eagerly; Jerry growling as he ate. “Have you two got any idea just how sore I wanted my pussy to be by the end of this weekend?” another strange creak issued from the fabric of the building as if it was in agreement with me.

It was Friday evening and I was all alone in the big city. Michelle was going to be coming straight here after her shift ended at 2am so we could set off as early as possible for the Spa just outside the city limits. I ran myself a hot, foamy bath with the plan of spending a good hour or two in it with the latest book I was reading. Although it soaked away the stresses and strain of the working week I climbed out of it after only twenty minutes. Wrapped in Tony’s bath robe I pottered about for another thirty minutes unable to settle to anything. A strong mug of java and sitting in front of the plasma television that had come from Tony’s flat only increased my restlessness.

Surfing the channels the only thing I found that I wanted to watch was ‘Chocolat’ with Johnny Depp. Johnny’s moustache and goatee only reminded me of the one that Tony was now growing. I was still undecided about it although I did rather enjoy the sensations it caused when Tony was between my legs eating my snatch. I didn’t need Johnny ‘fucking’ Depp reminding me of what I was missing this weekend. Back to the book which lasted less than a chapter before it was discarded again.

I eyed the PC sitting in the corner humming away to itself. I didn’t even rise from the couch as I knew that I would eventually navigate my way to a porn site or one of the erotic story sites I occasionally browsed. I was so fucking horny and yet so not in a sexy mood.

Both Tom and Jerry raised their heads from their slumber on the couch beside me as I jumped up and searched the bookshelves. I thumbed the spines, ignoring the DVD’s on the lower shelves, as I looked through the undiscovered titles of Tony’s books mixed in with my own. Personally I would have probably have sorted them separately but Tony had insisted on the randomness. Grudgingly I had admitted he was right as I had begun to read other authors than those I had favoured previously. I had teased him mercilessly for having children’s books when I had stayed over in his flat and saw all of the Harry Potter series on his shelves. A month after moving in together on a lazy Sunday afternoon I had lifted down JK Rowling’s first novel and had proceeded to read the entire saga over the next four weeks.

I wasn’t actually searching for something to read at the moment although I did pause when I noticed Sarah Waters’ novel, ‘Tipping the Velvet’. It was upside down in the shelf so being a little retentive I corrected it. The next thing my fingertips found was the slightly different texture to an old almanac. I pulled the fake book from the shelf and opened the lid. “Drugs…” I smiled to myself. It took me a further five minutes to locate a rolling machine (Tony was the seasoned dope fiend in the flat and was able to roll a joint in one hand so I never had to bother) in one of the kitchen drawers and I soon had a nice spliff on the go.

The Lebanese had the desired effect and with a glass or two of red wine, Billie Holiday on the stereo, I watched the world go by down below in the busy street from the window for over an hour.

Although it had only just gone ten I headed off to bed and wearing one of Tony’s shirts I soon drifted off to sleep.

……..

Awaking briefly in the small hours, I pulled the duvet that had gathered below my waist back over me (the damned heating seemed to be on the fritz) and drawing Tony’s pillow to my chest curled my body around it. A floorboard creaked somewhere in the flat. I slowly opened one lazy eye, still half asleep; I heard the rolling of a body from the spare room and figured Michelle had just got in. I closed my eye and drifted back to sleep trying to catch the warm cozy dream that I had lost…

…….

“Hey sleepy head… rise and shine”

I came awake slowly with the aroma of caffeine wafting below my nose. The coffee was calling me upwards but the ghost of a dream was trying to hold me back. Michelle sat bright and cheery on the edge of the bed with her bright white teeth gleaming through a broad grin. I stared at the short cropped hair on her head, she had decided that she had been blonde for long enough so had chopped her locks back. The black roots were growing out beneath the blonde tips; for once she actually looked like the dyke she was though at work wigs were generally the order of the day.

“What are you grinning at?” I mumbled.

“Nothing… nothing at all” she answered and flounced from the room in her long ‘Blues Brothers’ T-shirt. My sleepy eyes followed the curves of her ass peeking out from below the hem as I wondered what my dream had been.

After a moment or two I pulled myself up re-arranging the pillow behind my back and reached for the coffee on the bedside table. I paused and looked down at the white cotton sheet beside me. No wonder Michelle had been grinning. My pink ‘Rabbit’ lay there innocently. I must have been more stoned than I had thought as I was almost positive that I hadn’t played with it the previous night. I felt my cheeks colour and cringed at the thought of Michelle seeing it. Thinking about it my pussy did seem a little damp and the evaporating wisps of my dream still lingered though to insubstantial to know for sure what it had been about. “Grow up Shannon” I said to myself. It wasn’t as if the pair of us hadn’t talked about everything at one time or another over the years including and especially sex; though in hindsight maybe we had never actually discussed masturbation in any detail.

I shook myself from my reverie and lifted the vibrator; comically looking around I lifted it to my nose and sniffed at it. Definitely the aroma of my sex! Flushing guiltily once again I hurriedly grabbed a wipe from the open bedside drawer and cleaned my favourite toy. As I went to put the toy away I noticed Sarah Waters’ book looking up at me. Had I been reading it the night before? I slipped the toy back into the drawer and lifted the book. One of the pages had been folded over (Tony would complain about that if he saw it) and I opened the book at the marked page. After a brief scan I realised that the passage was quite hot and wasn’t surprised at the state of my crotch any longer. Putting the book away I giggled to myself as I wondered what look I would have got from Michelle if she had seen it. I vowed that I must read it properly (in an un-stoned frame of mind, maybe with Tony if I ever forgave him for standing me up) before lifting the hot brew and savouring that first ‘hit’ of the morning.

…….

With Tony’s bathrobe wrapped around me I headed into the kitchen to fix myself a second mug of coffee. Tom and Jerry prowled around my feet looking for food until Tom got in the way of Jerry and they started wrestling with each other instead. The clock said 8.30 am. I knew we should have left by now, I hated driving in the city at the best of times and the weekend rush hour was only a little less stressful than the weekday one. I heard Michelle humming Purple Rain to herself on the way to the bathroom as I increased my caffeine levels and warmed a couple of Pain de Chocolat’s in the microwave. The machine beeped twice to tell me the pastries were nuked and I opened the door to retrieve them when there were two further beeps. For a moment I stood looking at the digital display and then lightly smacked my forehead. I walked out of the kitchen and down the hall, the shower was running and Michelle was now singing an Annie Lennox number; a brief image of my best friend wearing/removing a man’s suit to the song while holding a riding crop flashed through my mind. “Get a grip girl… he’s only away for a couple of days and here you are turning into a lust crazed lesbian!” I muttered to myself.

The intercom beeped again in front of me and I lifted the handset. “Hello, the Limousine is here for you!” said a man’s voice.

“Pardon?” I replied.

“Miss S. Pine?”

“Yes, this is Shannon Pine…” I answered.

“I was hoping I got the right button… you’re boyfriend’s writing is atrocious” said the mysterious stranger.

“What? Tony ordered me a limo?” I almost screeched.

“Sort of… It’s the company Limo and he begged me for a favour. Said he was in deep sh… ‘do-do’ with you. So out of the goodness of my heart and tickets to next week’s game here I am!” confessed the man.

“…well… that’s… look I’m… we’re still getting ready… are you okay to wait…”

“No problem” he answered, “I’m parked just across the road beside the Chinese takeaway. You come down when you’re good and ready.”

“Thanks… I reckon about twenty minutes… maybe less…”

“Sure. I’ll see you in twenty.” The phone clicked as the handset three floors below in the lobby was replaced. I stared at the one in my hand grinning to myself like an idiot.

I stepped into the bathroom; Michelle was in the shower now singing Marley’s ‘Bad Boys’. The grin on my face broadened at her attempt at a Jamaican accent but stared at the outline of her body moving rhythmically to the beat. I could just about see the suds from the shower gel running down her side and over her hip. It’s been less than forty-eight hours since I was happy on Tony’s cock… what sort of slut am I? I thought to myself. I mentally shook myself, “Michelle?” I called.

Michelle stopped singing and turned within the shower sticking her head out past the screen, “Yes, honey?”

I tried not to look at her breasts, the nipples obvious, as they were pressed against the glass; “It seems we have a Limo at our disposal, courtesy of Tony. It’s waiting outside now.”

Michelle smiled broadly and jumped to the side exposing half of her body past the glass. Water droplets splattered on the floor as she jumped and clapped her hands; my eyes flicked to her bouncing breasts and down to her bald pussy where a white stream of suds cascaded past and down her tanned thigh. “What a creep that boy is!” stated Michelle, “…but you got to adore him… you know if he had a nice pair of boobies I might just be tempted to steal him from you…” My naked friend looked up at the ceiling considering her next comment while I watched fascinated as she idly massaged her right breast. “Could I live with a penis rather than a puss?” she continued, “… not so sure… nope gotta have a pussy!” she squealed with laughter as I turned from the room.

I stood outside the bathroom leaning against the wall wondering what had gotten into me. I could feel my crotch; it wasn’t soaking but it was definitely bothered.

It was nearer to a half hour before the pair of us walked outside and climbed into the Limo.

…….

It was definitely a day to remember. The two of us had been like giddy teenagers in the Limo. Al, the driver, had even let us both stand up through the sunroof as he drove down the last couple of country lanes (officially it was against company Health and Safety Policy). He confided in us that there wasn’t a single member of the board who hadn’t done it themselves at one time or another and that one of the senior partners (he wasn’t saying who) had joined what he termed the ‘car-flying’ club and it wasn’t with his wife.

When we got to the Spa both of us squealed with delight when they told us that Tony had upgraded us both to a VIP day of treatments. The massages were wonderful, the mud treatment ‘yucky’ but invigorating, the saunas were bliss, the hot tub relaxing, the acupuncture scary but stimulating and all with Champagne on tap. The staff had indeed treated us like VIP’s catering to our every whim; the food was superb and through it all the two of us chatted and laughed and squealed. By the end of the afternoon we had vowed that we should make it an annual event and that we might even invite Tony along.

Even though Tony had stood me up he was going to get the best blowjob ever when he got back.

……..

The day had indeed been wonderful but also frustrating. My mind kept wandering to Tony as I enjoyed the treatments and when I shared the saunas with Michelle I found myself torn between the thought of his hard cock and my friend’s hot sweaty naked body on the wooden bench beside me. When I was sure Michelle wasn’t looking I had stared long and hard at her bald mound coated in moisture wondering how she tasted and if all that dampness was from the steam or was some of it from within. I knew that my own pussy had never been wetter and gone without satisfaction for a longer period than in any other time of my life. I imagined her crawling over to me and slipping her slim fingers into my soaking wet pussy.

…….

We arrived back at the flat at about 7pm thoroughly pampered and spoiled. The two of us collapsed onto the couch side by side. A moment later Tom and Jerry scampered in and jumped onto our laps. I looked at Jerry circling upon Michelle’s long thighs and then burst out laughing. Michelle grinned at me and waited patiently for me to stop. Tears were rolling down my cheeks as I began to calm.

“Care to share the joke?” asked Michelle a little tersely.

I took some deep breaths and said “It’s not about you… oh… actually it is…” I snorted quite unladylike and continued; “… it’s just what you said this morning…”

Michelle tipped her head forward and stared into my face quite sternly managing a very plausible imitation of the ‘pissed-off school teacher’ even without horn-rimmed glasses. “What… when?” she asked.

“In the shower… you said…” I looked down at Jerry finally settling and wrapping his tail about himself as he readied for a quick nap; “… you might steal Tony from me but he would need a pussy! Strictly speaking both Tom and Jerry are his as well now… you got yourself the man with a penis and TWO pussies… give it time he might get man-boobs!” my laughter burst out again shortly followed by Michelle’s squeals and the two cats looked crossly at the pair of us and quickly vacated for quieter climes.

After a minute or so we calmed down and I went to the kitchen and ordered some Chinese on the phone both of us knowing that compared to the sumptuous food from earlier that anything we got would seem very poor in comparison. When I returned to the lounge Michelle was kneeling down looking at the various DVD’s on the lower shelves of the bookcase. Her denim clad ass was sticking up in the air and I made an effort not to stare at it as I sat down on the couch and cracked open a bottle of white wine.

The curve of her ass continually drew my eyes back as I tried to pour Pinot into a couple of glasses. “Got to say I like Tony’s taste in films.” she straightened up and twisted about her hips in that easy lithe way of a dancer. She held a DVD in her hand, “Do you wanna watch a vampire film? Or do you wanna see what he wanks over? In this case I lay odds it’s the same thing!” Without waiting for a reply Michelle removed the disc from its box and slipped it into the player. The machine whirred for a couple of seconds and then the screen came to life showing a knife slicing through a very rare steak.

“Oh!” exclaimed Michelle disappointedly as I picked up the remote and re-wound’ the disc. Images flashed by, definitely some naked flesh.

 I pressed ‘play’:-

 Susan Sarandon was sipping a small glass of wine asking ‘Are you trying to seduce me Mrs. Blalock?’

“Call me, Miriam…” said a divinely gorgeous Catherine Deneuve.

“… Miriam?”

“Not that I’m aware off, Sarah.”

On the screen Sarah spills a drop of the red liquid onto her pristine tight white T-shirt. Her full unfettered breast beneath topped with a wonderfully hard nipple. My own were aching as the two beautiful women on screen became me and Michelle. My pussy soaked my panties as I could almost feel Michelle’s slender fingers gliding over my tingling nipple. I bit my bottom lip as the vampire drinks the character Sarah’s blood lying naked on a bed with Egyptian cotton sheets. My quim twitched as I imagined taking ‘vampire’ Michelle’s blood into my mouth.

The scene cuts to the knife slicing once again through the very rare slab of meat. I had actually risen from the couch and was halfway  across the room to take my best friend into my arms to kiss and to taste and to lick and to caress her flesh.

The intercom chimed.

The Chinese had arrived. “I have so got to get myself a girlfriend… soon!” utters Michelle as she leans forward to eject the DVD. I stand frozen for a moment before turning for the door aware of my pussy lips, hot and drenched, as they slide against one another as I almost stumble from the room.

The Chinese was okay. Probably better than that but after the treats at the Spa our taste buds had been spoiled. My heart rate had settled somewhat by the time I had gathered dirty plates and utensils though my wet quim remained an ever present source of discomfort and distraction.

As I settled back down on the couch beside Michelle she asked “Does Tony just fancy the standard adolescent male lesbian fantasy or is it me?” I raised a questioning eyebrow as I thought to myself that at the present moment it wasn’t just a male fantasy. “It’s just that he has at least three of the lesbian classic films down there… unless they are yours?”

“I’m pretty sure they are Tony’s, though if you mean ‘Thelma and Louise’, that one’s mine… I think Tony was very disappointed when Sarandon and Davis didn’t get it together” I leaned back and stared at Michelle looking slowly over her body, drinking in the curves and pulling back the blanket to look further down her jean clad legs. “Take it from me, he does fancy you! Though I suppose ‘bi’ would be his preference to dyke!” I let the blanket drop back and smiled.

Michelle considered my words for a few seconds, “I can live with that…” and then joked (I think) “though I was hoping they were yours!” she grinned broadly and lifting her glass drained the remains of her wine.

We opened another bottle of wine and finally decided to watch ‘About Last Night’; as Michelle put it, she got Demi and I got Rob but I must admit that it was very easy to see Michelle as Demi even with her short hair as my crotch didn’t fail to remind me.

We both noted that the DVD had been stopped after a very erotic montage including a full frontal. I wondered to myself if I was to go up into the loft and check Tony’s videotape collection, which I knew included hard core porn, where would they all be paused.

Both of us were wrapped up on the couch beneath a couple of blankets (as much for snug comfort as for the recently misbehaving heating), glasses within easy reach as Rob and Demi eventually re-united in the final Chicago encompassing shot of the film. We dried our tears and shut off the television. The digital clock on the DVD player told us it was almost 1am.

I wasn’t sure but our usual good-night kiss on the cheek seemed as ‘nervous’ from Michelle as I knew it was from me.

………

Once, alone, in my room I almost tore off my clothes determined to frig myself stupid. After a perfunctory brush of my teeth I leapt into bed and was already slipping two fingers into my soaking wet slit without any of the usual teasing, wondering if I should get a gag to stifle my moans when there was a crash and a string of obscenities from the next room. I muttered a couple of my own swear words and grabbed Tony’s dressing gown and almost stomped into the next room.

I would have burst out laughing if it wasn’t for the hurt expression on Michelle’s face. The bed behind her back was tilted as she sat on the floor, naked, her legs spread wide; in the instant it took her to close her legs together and pull them up to her chest I was sure that her shaven gash was as wet as mine. I rubbed my two wet fingers together and brought them to my mouth; tasting my own juices as I began to giggle.

“Some best friend you are!” she said clambering to her feet while rubbing the cheek of her ass and trying to keep a modicum of composure. One of the legs of the metal framed bed lay against the skirting board and once Michelle had pulled on her T-shirt and I had stopped giggling (well almost) our investigations turned up a snapped bolt. I contemplated a temporary pile of books for a makeshift leg but ‘bit the bullet’ (alas no frigging for me tonight) and invited her to share my bed.

Again I wondered if I sensed the same reticence that I felt in my friend.

…….

We slipped beneath the sheets, I had pulled on Tony’s shirt that I had worn the night before; I had contemplated putting on a pair of fresh panties but was unsure what reaction or inference Michelle would draw from it. I had to admit that a part of me hoped that if I did they would only get in the way. We chatted for a few minutes before wishing each other good night. Michelle, sleeping on Tony’s side of the bed had rolled towards me; her nipples, hard, pressing briefly against my shoulder as she kissed me on the lips before rolling away. I lay there for what seemed like hours staring up at the ceiling aware of the warm soft body beside me. I was sure that I could smell the hot aroma of my own pussy as I fought to control my fingers which ached to slide into my wet cleft. I eventually fell asleep vividly remembering the smooth wet mound of my best friend from earlier in the day in the hot steam of the sauna.

…….

…..I’m running stark naked along a narrow isthmus of sand, unsure if I’m being chased or chasing something or someone. The sky is a wild turbulent storm, streaks of grey and black, as a chilling wind lashes the waves impossibly up over the sand from both sides. My bare feet splash with every stride as they pound the wet sand. That same bitterly cold wind whips the spray up and against my burning hot flesh. I’m running faster than I have ever done in my life, my heart drums heavily within my heaving chest; every square inch of my body sensitive to every gust of wind and drop of salt water; it stings and evaporates instantly as it strikes me. My hair streaks out behind me as I close on my prey or it closes on me. My nipples are as hard as granite as they slice through the sea air, my breasts full and heavy aching for a firmer caress, my pussy hot and pulsing needing a release. I feel my juices flow down my thighs as my labia parts beneath an invisible touch….

…….

…..slowly I come awake, the vivid dream etched into my vision as reality begins to intrude. My own fingers are deep inside my soaking quim, my clit hard and throbbing against the ball of my hand; my first conscious act is to squeeze and curl my fingers upwards to rub the tips against my G-spot. I moan into the soft flesh beneath the cotton pressing against my face. A distant echo of my moan is returned as I feel the hard nub of a nipple against my lips. For a moment my mouth opens and allows the erect tissue between my lips.

My eyes shoot open and I stare at the obscure blue pattern before me unable to focus. I slowly release the nipple and draw my head backwards. Michelle is lying before me; her T-shirt rucked up to beneath her bosom. The room is hot once again and the duvet discarded over the end of the bed as bright sunlight streams through a gap in the thin curtains. I glance up into her beautiful face to see her eyes shut, the pupils dancing beneath the lids as she breathes heavily, almost purring. My pussy shudders twice and I stifle a further moan from myself. My hand seems to be acting of its own free will as I fail to draw it from my pulsing crotch. My heart pounds as I let my eyes slowly move down her sleeping form.

Her chest rises and falls, her left nipple hard beneath the saliva soaked cotton; her taut stomach seems to quiver as my eyes drop lower to see her own hand buried between her thighs. My desire to roll her onto her back and dive between those thighs, to taste her and devour her almost wins.

I slip from the bed as quietly and as gently as I can. The slight movement causes my friend to stir and to roll onto her front revealing her naked ass to me, her ‘I love pussy’ ideogram above the crack of her ass, as I stand beside the bed looking down on her. She spreads her legs and I am able to see that her own glistening finger is lying along her bald pussy lips. She moans into the pillow as I pull my own soaking fingers from my hot cunt. I lick my juices from my fingers; I have the familiar slightly tangy taste that occurs after an orgasm. I smile to myself as I move towards the en-suite determined to have more.

Quietly closing the bathroom door and stripping off Tony’s shirt I step into the shower. I look down at my legs, the trails of pussy juice easily visible on my skin. The small battery clock above the sink tells me it is almost 9am as I turn on the shower. I wait for the powerful jet of water to warm and step into the cubicle. Grasping my left breast roughly I slip my right hand down over my stomach and across the stubble above my mound. This morning is no time for subtlety as I regret not bringing my ‘rabbit’ out to play and I thrust two fingers deep into me. I groan loudly as I lean against the cool tiles of the cubicle and began to thrust my fingers rapidly into my aching cunt.

Almost instantly the walls of my pussy begin contracting around my fingers as I close my eyes and finger-fuck myself harder and faster. My legs begin to shake and I slide down the wet tiles to sit in the basin of the shower spreading my feet as I curl my fingertips up to my G-spot. It isn’t enough so a third finger joins the first two stretching my lips as the hot water cascades over me. Faster, harder and deeper I slam my fingers into myself as the first wave my orgasm rolls over and through me. I pull and twist my nipple as my cunt tries to grip my thrusting fingers. I’m shoving my hips forward across the slippery basin to meet my fingers, groaning loudly as wave follows wave.

My thoughts switch between images of Tony’s thick cock and Michelle’s slender fingers and everything that I would let them do to me. I murmur their names in an orgasmic mantra. I hope/wish that Michelle possesses a strap-on and that both she and Tony would fuck me simultaneously as my body goes rigid and my cunt locks down onto my fingers and my fourth orgasm seems to tear me apart. I shiver in the hot stream of water as I slowly come down from the height of pleasure. My heart begins to slow and gradually my breathing returns to normal. I let my fingers slip from my quivering snatch and sit in the bottom of the shower waiting for my sanity to return.

I open my eyes grinning broadly to myself.

It takes me at least five seconds to see Michelle standing in the doorway to the bathroom. She is leaning against the door jamb, her right hand rubbing her mound; a finger sliding and disappearing between her wet lips. I open my mouth and no words come out as water splashes in. She looks me in the eyes and walks over to stand just outside the open shower door. Breathing heavily she says “Tony called…” she raises her left hand to show me my mobile phone and then drops it to the wet bathroom floor; “… I told him you would call him back… later…”

She steps into the shower, the water quickly soaking her T-shirt and kneels between my legs. She smiles at me as the water streams over her face and she leans forwards wrapping her arms about me pulling me forwards and kissing me on the mouth softly. There is no hesitation on my part as I return the kiss and slide my arms about her. Reaching down I grasp the hem of her T-shirt and pull it up over her head, breaking our kiss for the briefest of time. Our lips meet once again and our hands roam and explore each other’s bodies.

Her touch is soft and insistent at the same time as she slips her legs beneath mine and lifts me up onto her lap. Her mouth wanders from mine to kiss my face and neck before returning to my mouth; her tongue slips into my welcoming mouth. I gasp around her tongue as her fingers slide gently over my open labia and scratch across my clit. I mimic her actions beneath the hot shower spray; teasing, testing her sensitive parts. Her slightly larger breasts press against mine, our hard nipples searching for each other as we bring ourselves gently to orgasm.

Michelle whispers into my ear, “I’ve always wanted you Shannon…. I’ve always loved you…”

It is a long slow sensual orgasm that flows and ebbs throughout my body. The sort that you just want to go on forever and a day….

…….

Eventually we make it back to bed and spend the rest of the morning and afternoon exploring.

“I love you, Michelle”

Tony is due back in an hour……

Michelle’s Story

Tony waited on the platform. It had been three weeks since he had ‘stood up’ Shannon and although she didn’t seem to be too upset with him (maybe even a little grateful for the limo and the upgrade) she had been acting a little distant since. He stood there beside the pile of bags and cases waiting for the girl’s. Normally he would never travel by train but Michelle was afraid of flying and the overnight train journey wasn’t too much of a hassle. This would be his first time travelling in a private sleeper cabin and he wondered how cramped they were. He was still unsure if they were sharing one cabin with Michelle or if they had separate ones.

“We’ll only be a few minutes” he mimicked Shannon’s tones as the clock above the platform ticked forwards to the departure time. Why had he let them go off to the boutiques? The guard stood at the door to the coach eyeing him as he played with the silver whistle in his hand. Four minutes Tony thought. It was two minutes later when he saw the girls coming towards him along the platform arm in arm. He smiled to himself as he saw a number of men turn their heads to follow the short-skirted progress of the pair. Even though Michelle had the more athletic figure and walked with the consummate litheness of a dancer he found Shannon’s ass to be the more attractive but he did suppose he was biased from intimate knowledge. In the twenty minutes they had been absent the two of them seemed to have the smallest of shopping bags dangling from their wrists.

“Loads of time!” declared Shannon as he hustled them onto the train with their luggage. The guard seemed to only too happy now and asserted that there was plenty of time to spare. They were still shifting along the corridor towards their compartment(s?) when the doors closed and the whistle from the engine blew. The carriages bucked and rocked as the train gathered speed and left the terminus. Shannon, leading their trio, checked the tickets and stated that the door beside her was the one that they wanted. She slid the keycard into the lock and pushed it open almost falling inside. Michelle followed and Tony brought up the rear to stand in the doorway.

The cabin seemed to be a reasonable size although when the beds were unfolded that might be a different matter. The girls had dropped their bags and cases against the wall opposite the couch, which was set back slightly into the bulkhead, below a good size television. Michelle was squatting over her bag rifling through it as Shannon dropped onto the seat, kicked of her pumps and crossed her ankles, resting them on the small coffee table. Tony lifted the last of their bags inside and closed the door behind them as Michelle said delightedly “Got it!” she stood up holding a bottle of champagne in her hand. “Now to get shit-faced!”

Tony looked from one girl to the other noting the smiles on their faces. “Is there an occasion we are celebrating or just that we are on holiday?”

Shannon smiled at her boyfriend, “There is. You see, Michelle has decided that…” she paused to consider her words.

Michelle interrupted “I wanna fuck! And I want you to do the deed, Tony. I want you to take my virginity!”

Tony knew he was blushing and his mouth had gone suddenly dry as he looked to Shannon who was nodding furiously with that smile of hers beaming out towards him. “I… err… don’t know what to say… I’m honoured Michelle”

“Yes you are” she grinned, “but there is a condition. You see I will be, I must admit I have been, munching on your girlfriends’ snatch for some time now”

Shannon was still nodding enthusiastically, “She has. And I’ve been doing the same. To Michelle that is, do you mind Tony?”

“Hell, no!” the grin was infectious and Tony felt it appear on his face as well.

Just then he felt the train give a violent jerk and heard a scream from the room next door as he reached out to the wall to steady himself. All at once their smiles disappeared to be replaced by puzzlement and then concern as Tony and Michelle were flung against the wall and Shannon slipped forward to land in front of the couch with the sudden deceleration of the carriage. A roar seemed to fill his ears as he landed on top of Michelle, he was vaguely aware that she didn’t make a sound despite the fact his heavier weight must have been crushing her. Liquid spilled out from under her, frothing excitedly as it was sent one way and then another. Tony looked towards Shannon wincing in her awkward position between the couch and the fixed table. His attention was diverted by the cabin window as the glass cracked and then the filigree of a ‘spider’s web’ radiated outwards. The roaring was increasing as the bright summer sunshine outside seemed to dim instantly. There was a loud bang and Tony felt his ribs crack and still wondered why Michelle was so quiet and so still beneath him as the window blew inwards. He was completely numb as he watched the face with the smile he loved disappear in a curtain of crimson fluid.

Something was burning…

_______________________________

Okay Dear Avid Reader,

               “Michelle’s Story” was just  a joke I played on a friend (you know which one) though I guess it could be construed as a lesson on how life can be fickle. Reat assured this story doesn’t end in a bloodbath… probably. The next chapter which indeed is called “Michelle’s Story” (the Official Version) will be along in a little while.

As ever I hoped you enjoyed my little tale and I’ll see you all again soon.

FtF

As promised the second and final part, so without further ado  or my normal ramblings, read on. Oh! And remember…be careful what you wish for!!!

FtF

________________________________

Sundays were always lazy days in the Keller household and this day was almost no different. John and Andrea were woken by their youngest bouncing on their bed demanding breakfast. John had risen after checking he wasn’t sporting a ‘morning glory’ and had taken the youngster downstairs and dished up the preferred cereal of the month. He brewed a pot of tea and armed with croissants returned to the master bedroom to find the eldest sitting beside his frustrated looking wife playing a handheld game system.

It was almost midday when sitting out on the veranda they got their first moments alone. “Have you felt like that before?” asked John nervously.

His wife pondered her answer obviously knowing what subject he was talking about. “I… let me ask you something first?” he watched as she bit her bottom lip before continuing, “Did you fuck her yesterday?”

John smiled, “I did wonder that you didn’t ask me last night… no I didn’t.”

“Were you tempted?” came the nervous reply.

“Yes,” he said honestly, “she’s an attractive woman… I’m… it’s odd but I knew that before but yesterday… I guess I seem to have been so horny lately… I was tempted but it wasn’t going to happen.”

“I know what you mean. Well, the horniness part anyway…” she blushed, “the last week or so I’ve… been unable to leave my-” she looked about making sure that the boys weren’t in earshot, “I’ve been masturbating like it’s going out of fashion when I haven’t had your… cock to play with!”

“And what you said about Lizzie?” pressed John.

“I honestly don’t know where that came from… odd, for years all those women’s magazines going on about our fantasies and it’s never appealed but…” her voice trailed off.

John turned in his seat and took his wife’s hands in his, “It’s not something I need, you are more than enough for me, Andi.” His eyes met his wife’s, “Especially these last few days!” Though I wouldn’t say no he thought to himself.

She leaned forward and lightly kissed her husband’s lips, “In the cold light of day… maybe it’s something… maybe?”

****

The next month life returned to a reasonable likeness of normality. John was glad that his duties at the hospital had only briefly synchronised with the luscious lipped Lizzie being on duty but in the back of his mind he was also disappointed. His sex life showed no signs of abating; it was almost as if every time he felt horny Andrea would be of a like mind. Where they had probably made love once or twice a week previously they now had sex at least nine or ten times a week. Even as his wife entered her menstrual period she had insisted on sucking his cock. When things, as she put it, became less messy he had almost been ordered to take her in every position possible and they had broken their record from their ‘courting’ days and had fucked eight times in a single day.

Andrea had complained when she had made him climax the eighth time that his balls were empty.

****

John was rummaging in the inbuilt cupboards of the master bedroom for a pair of trainers when he spotted the overnight back lying idly on the floor. The memories of his grandfather and those strange few days flooded back. The footwear forgotten he lifted out the ornately carved box and carried it downstairs to his study. His fingers tingled against the rough wood of the box. He’d placed it beside the ‘pornographic’ letters on a high shelf and as an afterthought placed the box behind some reference books alongside them out of reach of his children.

He almost had to physically push the thoughts of his ‘inheritance’ out of his mind as he sat down in front of his laptop and looked at the research paper he had been working on for the past eighteen months. The words seemingly danced across the screen as he tried to focus on details. “I can do this, I’ve got to do this” he muttered to himself. Gradually he managed to sift through the masses of data he had personally accumulated through the years and the various other studies by other more accomplished scholars in his field.

A message icon flashed up on his screen and he opened a fresh window to see a Dr. J. Harvey had sent him an e-mail. The tag against the name told him that he was a fellow Oncologist from San Francisco. The contents of the e-mail began to echo around his mind as he saw that the doctor had been following a similar thread to his own research but had come at it from a slightly different angle. As luck would have it the man was in London and felt that they should meet having read a synopsis of John’s research that he had published six months previously. Almost immediately after reading the message John had sent a reply saying that he would happily meet with him as soon as was possible.

The reply came within ten minutes which had seemed like an absolute age to John and the American doctor insisted that he would be available in two days and would happily come up from London to see him. A few seconds and a couple of sentences typed into the laptop and John had agreed happily for him to come to his house when he said they’d drive up on Wednesday morning.

He lifted the bottle of twenty-five year old Macallan and a glass from the shelf below the hidden ornate box and offered a toast to the God above that he didn’t believe in for his good fortune although he suspected, irrationally, that the ‘flute’ was responsible but couldn’t see it being a gift from God.

John felt like a little kid whose Christmas presents had all come at once. He was sitting back in his chair grinning broadly when Andrea came in with a mug of coffee. Briefly he explained about the American and his infectious excitement was all to plain for his wife to see. The door to the study was standing ajar and his coffee forgotten about as he fucked his wife over his desk, the broadest grin adorning his face as he emptied his seed inside her.

The two of them sat back on his chair, still ‘almost’ fully dressed to anyone looking in from the door. He hugged Andrea tight to him as he felt his cock soften within as her pussy trembled and quivered about him. She twisted slightly upon him and then told him her news.

The Keller family of four would be five by the spring. Christmas and Birthday presents all at once thought John.

****

John sat at his desk mulling over the events of the day in a state of euphoria. He shut down the laptop and was about to head up stairs to join his wife in bed and with a sure mind that he was going to ‘eat her out’ until she ‘came her brains out’ when he looked up at the high shelf. He lifted down the ornate box and opened it up. He stared at the roughly carved flute for a full minute before lifting it out of the box.

It was the first time he had actually touched the ancient musical instrument and he felt a power that he had known would be there. He knew that this was the object that had changed his Grandfather’s life and knew that it had already changed his. His rational mind was ignored, the flute was a magical instrument and where Wally had used it for sex and money he would use it for Good. He blew into the small pipe and was transported back to that strange glade. The most beautiful sound he had ever heard issued from the end of the flute. Where it had been day before, it was now night and if he’d been nervous about the shadows under the trees before he had to admit he was now terrified.

He dropped the flute back into the box. The stuff dreams or maybe nightmares are made off he thought. The box was closed and placed back up on the shelf secreted behind the reference books. Still he felt a surge of unnatural power as he walked up the stairs.

Andrea screamed and screamed as she climaxed. His tongue and mouth played her pussy and he heard that beautiful sound that had issued from the flute reverberate through his wife’s body. She thrashed and screamed loudly and he had known that his children wouldn’t wake or that the neighbours would call the police in fear that his wife was being murdered. When he finally relented with his tongue he had taken her to another level as his cock, thicker and longer than it had ever been, had plunged into her gushing quim. The smells of the glade assaulted his nose as he drove deep inside her, changing position and tempo frequently for what seemed like hours till he erupted inside her and she fainted dead away.

He looked down as his cock throbbed and pulsed within his unconscious wife watching his seed pour out around his manhood. Even without his medical background he knew that it was impossible for a single pair of testicles to contain so much fluid. When he decided enough was enough the flow of white semen ceased and rolled gently onto his side keeping his still hard length within his wife, slowly he let sleep take him afraid of his dreams.

****

The next morning he could only catch vague wisps of his dreams or nightmares as he slipped his erection out of his wife. She stirred but remained asleep as he showered and dressed and headed silently out of the house and to the hospital. That strong aromatic smell from the glade, the ‘haunted glade’ as his irrational mind had taken to calling it, appeared to drift across his path throughout the day which dragged him back to the box in his study and the strange instrument that lay within. Rather than being a distraction he found answers and responses popping into his head during his rounds and his meetings.

Alone in his office he pulled up his research and found solutions to anomalies that had perplexed him for the past year. He also knew that with Doctor Harvey’s help they were on a verge of a breakthrough. He’d just tweaked a chemical formula for a possible drug on his screen even though he only had an average knowledge of pharmaceuticals but was sure that his answer lay in that direction when there was a knock on the door. His cock twitched in his trousers. He looked down at his crotch amazed that there was any life still in his genitals as he called out “Come in Lizzie!”

The door opened and the young staff nurse stepped in carrying a folder. “Now that’s a good trick, Doc!” she stated.

“Lucky guess, Lizzie and please call me John” he said without turning around. She walked up to stand beside him. Even in his seated position the nurse’s diminutive stature meant that she was only a head taller than him.

“Here’s the file on Mrs Devlin… John” she said as she put the brown folder on his desk and rested her hand on his shoulder, “I haven’t seen you sneaking a crafty ciggie recently?”

“Have you not heard they’re bad for you” he joked.

“I did hear a rumour” she replied and twisted around to sit on the edge of the desk, her toes only just touching the floor. “I was wondering John…”

He looked up into her blue eyes, “I would and very much so, Lizzie, but I will not go behind my wife’s back.”

“So… you’re fairly open in your marriage” she said smiling.

“Nope, never have been” it was a strain for him to keep his eyes on hers as she shifted back onto the desk top. She spread her legs and he knew she was wishing they still wore the old uniform dresses rather than the practical trousers that were now standard. He imagined what she would have looked liked on his desk with her uniform hiked up exposing sheer stockings and suspenders and if he would have been able to resist. He shook his head slowly and her eyes saddened.

“Good for you” she said disappointedly, “I guess I better get back to the ward then.” She hoped off the desk and walked briskly across the room, “catch you later, Doc!” she said as she opened the door.

“Of course you could always ask Andrea… who knows?” John said without turning around. He didn’t need to look around to know that Lizzie now had a broad smile on her face. The door closed and he stared off into the distance in the vague direction of his house knowing that within his study, high up on a shelf was a small box with a ‘Magic Flute’ inside it. He burst out laughing at the name he had just given it.

****

John and Andrea managed to keep their hands of each other until after the kids were tucked up in bed. As he thrust deep inside her from behind he told her “You might be getting a phone call some time soon.”

Her knuckles were white where she gripped the headboard as she thrust back against him, “Ye… yeah… who from?”

He drove as hard as he could into her before answering “The luscious lipped Lizzie.”

“She came… onto you again” Andrea gasped.

Digging his fingers into his wife’s hips he twisted his cock within her, “She came right out and asked me.” A small groan escaped his lips as he felt his wife’s pussy contract tightly around his member.

“You said no? Mmmm…!”

“I said she’d have to ask you… she seemed hopeful… maybe even happy about it.” He pulled out with a loud slurp of her juices and slapped her across the left cheek before rolling her onto her back and moving up to straddle her stomach.

Andrea pushed her breasts together cocooning his pussy slickened cock opening her mouth greedily, “Maybe I’ll have to make her work for your cock!”

His cock jerked violently within the warm embrace of his wife’s bosom as he shot all of his seed directly into her open mouth.

****

John waited impatiently in his study for Doctor Harvey to arrive. His nerves were frayed with the anticipation of the forthcoming meeting and he’d almost popped out to buy a pack of cigarettes but he was afraid that he’d miss his arrival. Half ten arrived and a black saloon car pulled up along his drive. He rushed to the front door and down the steps to pull open the drivers door, “Doctor Keller?”

The man, a little younger than he was but with significantly more grey hair, behind the wheel got out as a twenty something oriental woman stepped out from the passenger side. He offered his hand to the man, “Doctor Harvey, I presume?”

The man grinned and shook his head, “I’m sorry but you presume wrong, Doctor Keller, I’m Paul Avis. This is Doctor Harvey.” He indicated the young oriental looking woman across the roof of the car.

“Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry.” He felt himself blushing, “I hadn’t even realised you were female, Doctor Harvey.”

“Not to worry Doctor Keller, if you don’t know Chinese names you weren’t to know that Jiao was a woman’s name!” she said softly, “My assistant Paul, you’ve met” she added with a grin full of bright white teeth.

“Call me John please”

“If you will call me, Jiao?” she answered.

“Jiao?” offered John hoping he had pronounced it correctly. She nodded her approval and John led the three of them into the house.

****

Back inside John was quick to introduce the doctor and her assistant to Andrea before she made the same mistake as he did. “Let me guess, John got the two of you mixed up?” asked Andrea with far too much glee in her voice. Once again John felt his cheeks redden as he led them through to the lounge and offered them tea and coffee. He hoped that Jiao wouldn’t be offended by the simple English Breakfast Tea that they had to offer but he shortly found out that she was third generation American even though her speech seemed to be greatly influenced by the land of her forebears. She also preferred coffee.

After about half an hour of pleasantries he led the two of them through to his study. He looked up briefly at the reference books concealing the ornate box before swiping his finger across the mouse-pad of his laptop and bringing the screen to life. John stood back and pulled out his chair for Jiao to sit down as Paul opened up the bag he had been carrying and lifted out the Doctor’s own laptop. As he plugged it in and opened up the relevant files John stood in the middle of his study wringing his hands. Eventually the small computer was ‘warmed up’ and Paul motioned John forward.

Jiao finished reading John’s files a good few minutes before him. She stood up and stretched interlacing her fingers behind her back rolling her shoulders. Stepping around the table she opened the French doors to the garden quietly followed by Paul. When John had finished he also rose and followed them outside.

The two of them were leaning against the garden fence chatting animatedly as he approached. Jiao looked at him as he looked at her and the two of them broke in to broad grins while he was still some yards away. “Between us we have something!” stated John.

“We have,” agreed Jiao “but can we make it work?”

“We can, I know we can… do either of you smoke?” asked John ignoring the fact that they were all in the field of Oncology.

Paul blushed and pulled out a crumpled pack. John gladly took one and accepted the lighter and leant on the fence looking at across the gentle undulating hills of arable land. Jiao stared at her assistant as he shrugged his shoulders, “A fine example you two set!”

“True,” answered John before continuing, “I think your trial of the Bovillaemauris drug is the key, I’ve got a drug which may kill the cancer cells but it never stops there, but yours looks like it could put the ‘brakes on’ so to speak.” He sucked the acrid fumes deep into his lungs.

“It does have that effect with some compounds, but…” Jiao hesitated.

“The Lab tests have been very disappointing, to the extent we haven’t yet applied for animal trials” added Paul.

“What do you think the issue is?” asked John.

“Toxic shock sometimes” answered the assistant. John was a little annoyed with the man’s reply stating the result and not the possible cause.

“It seems to be all in the timing of application between the two shots… leave the second inhibitor shot too long and it almost seems to become a booster” Jiao said, the disappointment obvious in her voice.

“How critical?” asked John.

“Possibly a few minutes… if the inhibitor isn’t given within a window of maybe fifteen minutes it either causes the initial injection to have no discernable effect in the long term or as I said apparently triples the strength and re-writes the medium to such an extent we have toxic shock!”

“But when the timings were right it’d be the perfect platform for my drug?” John drained the last nicotine from the cigarette and stubbed it out on the fence post.

“To be honest, even when we administer the second dose too late it could still be a perfect platform for your drug, it’d have coded your drug to the cancer genes… effectively making it a real surgically precise drug” answered the young woman.

“But the patient would already be dead… there’s just too many factors to gauge the time period between the initial and the inhibitor dose on any given subject” interjected Paul, he began to list them on his fingers, “Age, sex, weight, general health, stage of cancer, body chemistry-” He eventually saw the look on Jiao’s face and stopped lowering his hand.

“Paul give us a while” she said diplomatically and waited till he headed back to the house, “I hate to say it but he’s right. If only we could take out some of the factors?”

“Hmmm… take out some of the factors…” considered John wishing he’d ‘bummed another cigarette of Paul before he left. “So apart from the patient dying the drug does what it’s designed to do…?”

“Apart from that, yes!” Jiao stared at John and began to smile in reflection of the one she saw on his face, “What?” she eventually asked.

“The biopsy… we don’t need much tissue to add the drug to and then we re-combine it outside the body…-”

“-we re-introduce the genetically tailored drug after the inhibitor has taken effect and it’ll only attack the cancerous cells!”

“And all we need to know is the weight of the sample and the particular blood chemistry.”

“You’re right. When you re-configured your drug, which Paul reckoned was simply a matter of altering the order of combination during the manufacturing process, it improved its chances to sync with the inhibitor! Brilliant!” finished Jiao almost laughing.

John led Jiao over to a bench beneath the shade of a Pear Tree and the two of them continued throwing ideas back and forth.

****

Andrea stood at the sink looking out across the lawn as she chopped up some vegetables for lunch. She watched the three people talking passionately over by the fence. She felt pangs of jealousy from time to time with John’s work. This was one of those times, her own professional career as an accountant had never been rewarding on anything other than the financial side and she hadn’t been sad when she had quit it to have children. She filled her days now that the children were older with various activities and only felt the vacuum left by employment when she saw John so enthusiastic about his vocation.

She lay the knife down and walked to John’s study to gather the cups that had been left there. Stepping into the cluttered and yet comfortable room she saw the two laptops idling on the desk and began to place the dirty cups, milk and sugar on the tray she had brought. She shivered as she felt a chill run down her spine and Goosebumps swarm across her flesh. It was odd that lately she had felt unease when she had come in here and she shook her head to dispel the sensation. Her fingertip trailed across the hard dark wood of the desk and remembered last Friday when John had taken her roughly across it, her breasts pressed flat and aching as they’d rubbed across the smooth top. The Goosebumps remained but her nipples hardened and she felt warmth spread from her crotch. “Just so fucking horny these days, Andi!” she said to the room.

She was just about to lift the tray when her eyes wandered along the bookshelves. She stopped and stared at the faded shoebox up on the top shelf. All of John’s other files and book and folders, although well thumbed and often dog-eared were ‘brand-new’ in comparison to this one item. Her knuckles whitened on the side of the tray as she fought a battle within her mind trying to resist her curiosity.

She lost.

She released the tray and stepped over to the bookcase pushing the small hop-up with her toe, she grinned at the description of ‘half-a-Dalek’ that her eldest had given it, as she stepped up onto it and lifted down the musty box. She sat down in John’s swivel chair and lifted the top of the box gingerly to find all the old letters within. For a moment she wondered if they were some of her husband’s love letters to old girlfriends but the number and age of them made it obvious that they weren’t. Gingerly she lifted the first one out and read the name on the front of the envelope and realised they had belonged to his late Grandfather. She arched an eyebrow as she wondered why John hadn’t mentioned them.

Chewing on her bottom lip she carefully extracted the letter and began to read:-

Walter my love,

I know you still want me! I want, need you more than ever! I need to feel your hands grasping my flesh, I need to feel your mouth and your kisses teasing and biting my body!

“Raunchy!” whispered Andrea.

To feel your teeth pulling on my nipple, sinking into my flesh and leaving your mark upon my pale skin. My fingers are buried within my honey pot as your big hard cock was the last time you came a calling! My nectar is dripping down my legs as I wish you were here taking me any way you want. I need your cock pushing into my mount of Venus, I need to take it in my mouth, I need it my most private of places!”

Andrea’s own hand had loosened the belt on her jeans before she realized what she was doing. She didn’t stop and unzipped them before slipping her own hand into her already damp knickers and scratching a fingernail up along her slit until she found the small hard nub of her clit. The shoebox fell to the floor, the contents spreading across the wooden floor, as her hand shook slightly holding the letter. She gasped as she felt a small wave of warmth spread out from her centre.

Tie me up Walter, spread my legs and press your wonderful hard cock into my ass. Ram it into me till I beg for mercy and then ram it all the harder. I’m your slave and you can do anything-everything you want to me as long as you give me your seed. Oh God, Walter, I have my entire hand inside myself thinking of your fat cock tearing into my ass.

Make me whole, Walter, make me your slave, make me the vessel for your wonderful seed!

The letter fluttered to the floor as Andrea closed her eyes and pushed three fingers into her burning flesh. She felt her lips stretch around them as she slowly pushed them deeper past her knuckles till they twisted within her. Breathing heavily she slowly withdrew them and added her little finger and once again stretched her cunt as she eased them back inside. Four times she pushed them in and out of her soaking wet pussy before she looked out the open French doors to see her husband and his two guests still talking over by the fence. Pulling her fingers completely free, she stood up and pushed her soaking underwear and jeans down till they hung untidily around her left ankle.

She sat back down and lifted her bare leg over the arm of the chair and stared down at her gaping lips. They were red and angry and dripping with her juices. Reaching down she spread them as wide as she could with her left hand as she smeared the juices on her right all over her thumb and palm. Tentatively she placed the tip of her four fingers inside her slit and folded her thumb in between them before pushing them firmly and resolutely into her cunt. She groaned loudly as her knuckles spread her quim further than it had ever been spread before. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before her hand slipped inside her, her pussy spasmed almost instantly and a gush of juices squirted out around her wrist as she pushed it even deeper feeling her fingertips up against her womb.

“Ohhh…ohh… god, Johnny…where are you when I need your cock?” she moaned her eyes tightly shut as she twisted her fist within herself rubbing the knuckle of her thumb up against her G-spot. She bounced up on the chair as her entire body quaked and she bit her lip hard to stop herself from screaming aloud. Tears ran down her cheeks as she moved her fist fractionally back and forth, wave after wave of intense sensation emanating from every movement throughout her entire being.

She threw her head back as her mind exploded and she felt her cunt lock her hand inside her as if it was in a vice. She had no idea how long the sensations lasted but eventually she rolled her head back forward and opened her eyes. A figure was silhouetted against the French doors, a man with one hand rubbing his crotch, “Come here now!” she demanded without a clue if it was her husband or the other doctor’s assistant or even a complete stranger.

It wasn’t her husband and she didn’t care as he came into reach she grasped Paul’s belt with her slickened left hand and pulled him closer. She fumbled with the buckle and almost tore the button of his trousers before pulling his zip down rapidly. Her hand was inside his boxer shorts and extracting his erection within a matter of seconds. She looked up into his dilated pupils as she pulled his cock into her open mouth. He groaned aloud as his hands wrapped around her head and he felt his glans press against the back of her throat.

Andrea began to fist-fuck her pussy harder and faster as she urged Paul to fuck her mouth. He felt a hand slip inside her blouse and grasp her breast squeezing it tightly as his hips rocked back and forth against her bobbing head. Her cunt exploded once again and her hand reached around the almost complete stranger to pull him harder into her mouth. She heard Paul swear from above her and felt his body stiffen. She pressed her mouth firmly down on his erection feeling the glans pressed firmly against the back of her mouth as she dragged air in noisily through her nose. His entire length twitched hard and she felt the first jet of seed erupt into her throat, she gulped hard feeling as if his cock was sliding even further down inside her neck. Jet after jet issued from his spasming cock and she greedily managed to drink it all down. Only when his cock began to soften did she release it and gingerly slip her fist from inside her sore and stretched pussy.

“I…err…” stammered Paul.

“Oh shut up,” she admonished him, clumsily pulling her jeans and panties off her foot, “we ain’t finished yet!” she took hold of his saliva streaked cock and led him out through the door into the hall.

****

John and Jiao had gone over their ideas trying to find any potential problems and think of possible solutions in advance. The wind had picked up and John suggested going inside and getting something to eat to which the younger woman rubbed her hand across her abdomen and readily agreed, “I am quite hungry” she admitted.

They stepped back in through the French doors and John sensed rather than saw that something was out of kilter. “I wonder where Paul has got to?” wondered Jiao.

The room was as neat or untidy depending on who you asked, he almost immediately looked up to the top shelf but the reference books in front of the ornate box were still in place. The cardboard shoebox was also up there and he wasn’t sure but he thought it had moved. He looked down at the ‘step-up’ positioned directly beneath and knew that had been behind the door to the study. “Hmmm, let’s check the kitchen, shall we?”

The two of them entered the kitchen. “Hi” echoed Andrea and Paul together. John looked from one to the other and back again while Jiao looked at him trying to decipher the expression on his face. Andrea was busy at the hob frying something smelling of garlic in the pan while Paul was busy slicing vegetables with his shirt sleeves rolled up, his jacket hung across the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Andrea glanced across at him and for a split-second he saw a look of guilt and embarrassment flash across her face before her eyes flicked to Jiao and a more neutral expression returned, “Hungry?” she asked.

He looked back at his wife with the full knowledge that she’d had carnal knowledge of Jiao’s assistant. “Starving!” he replied and then answered the question he had sensed had really been in his wife’s mind, “You two kept each other entertained while we obsessed about our work?” He smiled and nodded fractionally at his wife.

She raised her eyebrow in that questioning look she often used and smiled back, “Oh you know, read a little, discussed this and that.” He heard the emphasis she had put on the word and once again refreshed his smile flicking his eyes to the study behind the wall to his left.

Jiao appeared to sense the coded conversation but was at a loss as to what the deciphered message was but she had noticed that Paul had remained resolutely fixated on the vegetables he was chopping and appeared to be blushing slightly. She’d have words with him on the journey back and she suspected it’d be about professionalism. She had never admitted to anyone let alone Paul or her husband that she had often fantasised about her assistant and was slightly (make that greatly) jealous if he had ‘misbehaved’ with Doctor Keller’s wife.

****

John and Andrea waved goodbye to the car as it pulled out onto the main road and away from their house. It was almost eleven o’clock and Jiao and Paul had stayed longer than they had intended as their flight back to America was quite early and they still had a two hour drive back to London. The kids were already asleep as John turned to his wife, “So did you fuck him?” he asked as he closed the door.

Andrea dropped her eyes to the tiled floor of the hallway and nodded. John reached out and grasped his wife’s breast through her blouse, finding her hard nipple easily he twisted it through the garment and the bra beneath, “You’re a bad, bad girl! Did you simply drag him to bed as soon as he walked back in while I was out in the garden with Jiao?” he reached up with his other hand and tore her blouse open, buttons popping and scattering across the stone floor.

“He caught me…” she whispered as her chest heaved.

John pushed up Andrea’s bra and grasped both her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, “He caught you doing what?” Her reply was inaudible and he twisted her erect nipples in opposite directions savagely.

She gasped and he knew her pussy had spasmed and soaked her panties. He wondered if they were the same pair she had worn earlier and if Paul’s semen had oozed from her slit during the afternoon and evening or if she was wearing any at all. “He caught me fisting myself…” she said louder and then raised her head to look up into his eyes.

“Fisting your cunt in my study… while reading my grandfather’s letters?” he asked pulling the tender flesh away from her breasts and letting them spring out of his fingers.

Her fingers were unbuttoning her jeans as she stood there in the hall feeling her juices run down her thighs beneath the denim. “Yes” she breathed, “and I sucked him off when he found me! I’m a slut and I deserve to be punished!”

“Oh you will be!” replied John as he pushed her in the direction of the study. “Strip!” he demanded as he closed the door behind him and Andrea obeyed tearing her blouse further in her haste to pull it off. When she was completely nude her husband ordered her to bend over his desk as he reached up and lifted down the shoebox. He placed it beside her head and opened it briefly searching the letters till he found one he wanted. He laid the sheet on the desk beneath her face and told her to read it. She squirmed against the smooth top of the desk as he stripped behind her finally releasing his aching cock. She writhed even more when she felt his erection press between her ass cheeks as he grabbed her hands and pulled them behind her back and tied them together with his tie.

He looked up to the top shelf and ‘saw’ the flute within the ornate box as he raised his hand and brought it down sharply on her ass. Andrea read the missal sent to her husband’s Grandfather and knew that John was going to redden her ass till her cheeks glowed before slamming his cock deep into her anus. Her juices streamed down her legs at the thought.

What hadn’t been in the letter was that John almost managed to get his entire fist into her ravaged pussy as he slammed his cock into her ass.

An hour later and they showered together, John had dropped to his knees and teased and caressed her throbbing slit with his mouth and tongue. Tiny orgasms had rippled through her till she could climax no more. In bed she had slowly and softly sucked on his cock till he erupted powerfully into her mouth. She regretted that her pussy ached too much for him to fill that hole with his seed as well.

As they lay together in each other’s arms he suggested that perhaps the kids ought to stay with her parents the following weekend. “What have you got planned” she asked with a smile in the darkness.

“I was thinking that we should get the Luscious Lizzie over” he answered.

“Only if I can suck your cum out of her cunt?” she replied.

“I think that could be arranged” he answered with a grin.

Andrea pressed her lips to his ear, “Promise?”

“I promise!”

As he drifted off to sleep he knew that the ‘flute’ would grant all of his wishes. A cure for cancer and a Nobel Prize for his efforts, as well as all of his fantasies, anything his heart desired.

****

He found himself in the glade once again. It was dark and unseen eyes once again watched him from beneath the trees. He stood there naked, ashamed of his body, the rough grass beneath his feet and the moonless sky above his head.

“Johnny, Johnny, Johnny… what am I to do with you?”

In that moment he no longer feared what lurked beneath the trees and even though he didn’t want to turn around to see the person or thing addressing him he felt his feet moving with their own will. Slowly the stone he had seen before came into view but this time there was a small man sitting upon it. If his feet weren’t obeying him, his hands were as he gripped his bicep between his thumb and forefinger and twisted the flesh as painfully as he can.

“Do you people really think that works?” the small man asked, “I can’t feel pain so I must be dreaming” he mimicked John’s voice precisely, “Well, Johnny, you can feel it, so are you dreaming?”

John’s breath caught in his throat as his brain seized up. “Come on Johnny, you’re an intelligent fella, cat got your tongue?”

Even though the glade was dark the small man seemed to be lit from nowhere, all of his details crystal clear for John to see. Why a completely non-descript man filled his soul with terror, he had no idea. Still there was the man’s tongue which seemed too big for his mouth and also appeared to end in a sharp point as he clearly pronounced his words. “Who… who are you?” John stammered.

“Oh come on John, don’t make me out to be a liar after calling you intelligent! You know who I am. Walter didn’t catch on half as quickly as you and yet here you are the scientist!”

“You knew my Grandfather?” whispered John.

“Sure, don’t I know everybody…” the man seemed to shimmer and shake and morph. One second John was looking at this boring little man and then he was looking at an old man sitting in a threadbare armchair, then a plump five foot woman with large breasts dressed in a cashmere sweater (Maria thought John), then a tall, striking brunette in a smart business suit staring at the entrance to his Grandfather’s block, then a grey haired Paul looking down at his wife’s mouth wrapped around his cock, then the Luscious Lipped Lizzie dressed in an old style nurses uniform with the hem pulled up exposing a hairy pussy framed between suspenders and then back to the boring little man. “Pinch yourself again, Johnny, just to make sure!”

John’s hand went to his bicep once again and twisted his own flesh till it tore. He looked down as blood poured from the wound and ran down his forearm to drip off the tips of his fingers. The pain ripped through his mind and he knew he wasn’t dreaming. “I… err…”

“Who am I, Johnny?” he asked.

“You’re him…”

For the briefest of moments a horned demon sat upon the rock surrounded by jets of fire and the stench of sulphur, “I am, but that’s such a melodramatic body… fun though with your devout believers, doesn’t half give them the willies!”

“Why…what?” stammered John.

“Oh come on, whose flute did you think that was?” he asked with a look of incredulity.

John stood there frozen as this ordinary man, a ‘nobody’ who’d you’d pass on the street, who’d you’d stand beside on a bus and not even notice proclaimed to be the Devil.

“Time to pay the piper, Johnny boy!” he grinned the tip of that unnatural tongue making another appearance.

“Wh… What? I don’t understand” whispered John, his eyes flicking either side of the Devil looking for a way out and seeing glowing red eyes appear in the darkness beneath the trees.

“I don’t understand” mimicked the man, “Sheesh! They never understand!” he looked over his shoulder to where John was staring and turning back shook his head, “You don’t want to go in there, Johnny Boy, the remains of the damned always hungry for a fresh soul, I leave them with the vain hope that they can get their own back or borrow yours and escape their torment. Of course they can’t, but you should see them tear it out of a ‘live’ person?” the man shuddered for effect. “Even gives me the heebie jeebies!”

“But I’m a good man!” pleaded John.

“Yep, I’d have to agree with that but what do I care? Actually more fun if you are. All those wretches in there” he waved his finger around the glade and when it returned it was holding a cigarette which he took a long drag from before continuing. “As I was saying all those wretches have played the flute and profited from its power, actually old Wally is in there, no longer knows who he is but you get that when you become a slavering hound of Hell, would you like to see him? No? Okay then, they all enjoyed themselves immensely and generally made other people’s lives a misery and then I called in their markers and here they are for the rest of eternity!”

John watched the little man take another drag on the cigarette and even though he was terrified and he thought the tobacco smelt strongly of sulphur his hand trembled with the urge to snatch it away and suck the poisonous smoke deep down into his lungs. All of a sudden he realised he was also holding a lit cigarette and stared at it for a moment before he threw it to the ground. He crushed it with his foot in automatic response before he howled in pain as it burnt a hole clean through his bare foot.

The Devil howled in laughter.

John gritted his teeth, “I’ve made no one’s life a misery!”

“Doh! Why do you think I called your marker in so soon? A cure for cancer, have you any idea how much suffering that ‘flaw’ in the Creator’s design causes?” The man looked upwards, “And they reckon he doesn’t make mistakes? You can’t even cheat properly on your wife, you wish your children to behave, you keep an old man alive long enough for him to see his fucking Grandchild! Pass the fucking sick bag Vicar!”

“So you’ve got me, Jiao has made no deal, shit! I made no deal! She has no part in this and she’ll do just fine without me” said John defiantly. He ignored the stinging pain from his arm and foot and stared the Devil in the eyes.

The Devil just grinned, “No she hasn’t, though you know I am the Devil and well, I don’t play by the rules. All it takes is a little nudge here, a whisper in the ear so to speak, a little distraction at the opportune moment and I can achieve so much, God is an absentee landlord and the world is now my playground. All he left you with was ‘free will’. Did you know she had the ‘hots’ for her assistant and all evening she has become increasingly annoyed that he stuck his cock in your wife’s cunt. You wouldn’t have spotted it, those inscrutable oriental genes of hers. About an hour ago I gave her a final push and lo and behold we have an argument of her own free will. Nothing fatal about that, you ask? Oh I forgot, not a good thing when you’re tired and driving down unfamiliar roads in the dead of night. In her anger she pressed her foot harder down on the accelerator and ‘Bob’s your Uncle’, we have a Road Traffic Accident and another fatal tragedy to add to the statistics!”

John felt as if he had been in the accident as well as the wind was knocked out of him and he collapsed to his knees. He looked up at the grinning figure, “My data…” his voice trailed off as he feared the answer.

“Ahh… it’s all so very sad! I’m a bit of a people watcher but I suppose you’ve worked that out by now. Did you know your youngest has a fascination with matches? You and your entire family died in a house fire! Now if you’d been a bit more like your Grandfather I could have used you for a few years. The amount of wrecked marriages, illegitimate children, suicides… right to the end, getting that fat lump of a neighbour to suck him off every day and she couldn’t say no… Ha! Even after he died she still wanted cock, didn’t she Johnny, but no, you’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

Tears were pouring down John’s cheeks and he could hear the damned beneath the trees panting and groaning with the feast of his soul they were about to receive. “Of course old Wally wasn’t as good as his predecessor…oh no, now that man was a professional! Did I mention where Wally got the flute from?” He waited till John shook his bowed head, “Yep, a little bunker in Berlin! What I didn’t mention you’re the product of a zealous SS Gruppenführer? A very enthusiastic one at that, but you had to hand it to that little runt, Adolf, that boy knew how to party! You don’t want to believe me? Seriously, without the power of the flute who would have paid attention to a talentless painter, dwarf with stupid taste in facial hair?”

John felt his head being raised by an unseen force and looked up at the Devil, his eyes being dragged towards that mouth. “I was only joking about the rest of your family dying; I’m not really that cruel. But now it’s time to eat your soul and I’m always hungry!” the mouth widened, the pointed tongue beckoned him between two rows of razor sharp teeth as the world seemed to shrink away and all that was left was the dark void within.

****

John woke up with a jolt. In the darkness he could just see the familiar ceiling of his bedroom. Just a nightmare he thought and then he felt the pain in his upper arm and in his foot. He rolled from the bed and cried out as his foot landed on the carpeted floor. The pale outline of his foot was visible and a black hole seemed to be almost in the centre. He looked at his arm and could see the black wound with dark rivers running down to his fingers. He turned expecting Andrea to have woken when he had screamed in pain but she remained unaware of him. She was writhing beneath the covers beside the dark stain of his dried blood on the bottom sheet. Tentatively he reached forward and dragged the duvet down finding his wife with one hand crammed in her mouth and the other sliding its fingers in and out of her soaking pussy.

Only then did he realise how impossibly hard his cock was and he almost crawled across to her to shove it into her mouth. All it takes is a little nudge here, a whisper in the ear the Devil had said. John’s heart shot into his mouth as he imagined his son playing with matches and he hobbled awkwardly around the bed.

“Fill my mouth, my cunt, my ass! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” his wife pleaded in whatever erotic dream she was trapped within and John had to wrench his hand away from his painfully hard erection as he stumbled through the door. He made it to his youngest son’s bedroom leaving a trail of blood behind him as the wound in his arm opened up and a burning heat spreading up from his foot. His son was still in his bed writhing in a similar manner to his mother but from the most terrifying of nightmares. He was leaning against the doorframe and was about to go to comfort his son when the Devil’s words came back to him again, a little distraction at the opportune moment and I can achieve so much.

He tore himself away knowing what he had to do. He heard his eldest scream loudly as he made it to the top of the stairs, tears running down his face to splash against the banister. “If there’s a Devil, there must be a God!” still he resisted the desire to run to his children and descended the stairs, he stumbled and fell down the last few steps as his ‘holed’ foot gave way beneath him and heard a sickening crack issue from his wounded arm. The arm hung loosely as he pulled himself up, once he was steady he went to cradle it with his good arm and even that lightest of touches was too much and he vomited on the tiled floor.

Eventually after seeming to empty his entire system he made it to the study and looked up to where the ornate box with its poisonous cargo was hidden. He tried to reach up but the break in his arm seemed to open up further increasing what he had thought was as much pain as a human could take. He almost fainted at that point but thought about his unborn child within his wife’s womb. He smiled through the pain as he hoped for a little girl. He stepped up gingerly onto the ‘half-a-Dalek’ murmuring a quiet mantra to free will and the God he now believed in again and again, “I can beat the Devil… I can beat the Devil…”

He swept the old shoebox off the shelf spilling the contents behind him and pulled the reference books down hearing then thud heavily on the wooden floor behind him. He reached into the dark shadow to grasp the box.

It wasn’t there!

He pulled more books down until he had emptied the entire top shelf and had run his hand all along it to only find the smooth dusty surface of the bare wood. He stepped backward landing on his injured foot and screamed again, stumbling back and knocking his laptop to the floor. It landed beside the desk and the screen shattered followed by a sizzle and then a small stream of acidic smoke rising up from the gap where the letters ‘J’ and ‘K’ had been. He ignored it and stumbled forward throwing more books from the second shelf from the top. In his panic he threw the bottle of whisky behind him ignoring the crash of glass as it broke.

The shelf was almost half empty and still no sign of the box when the room brightened. For a moment he used the increased light to look into the shadows before he slowly turned about. The laptop with the last cure for cancer somewhere within its silicon heart was sitting in the centre of a pool of golden fire. “Fuck!” he cried and stumbled forward slipping on the letter from Annabelle with promises of her daughter’s virginity. He felt a sharp jab against his temple as his head connected with the corner of the desk and landed short of the precious computer. His impact stirred up his Grandfather’s letters and as soon as they came near to the small blaze fuelled by the whisky the tinder dry paper erupted into fire. He felt a small trickle of blood run down across his forehead and felt strangely cold as the room grew ever brighter and hotter.

Just before everything went dark he held up his broken arm, the pain distant, and stared at his unblemished bicep. No tear in his flesh and he knew without looking there was no hole in his foot. “Oh god…” he whispered as the darkness took him.

****

The little man stood beneath the pear tree with his hands out in front of him warming them on the inferno that had been a house. A small ornately carved box tucked under his arm.

“Oh, wait a minute… I am that cruel!” he said with a smile as a pointed tongue poked briefly between his lips.

The End

_________________________

Well? Did you enjoy? So need a smiley icon here!!!

FtF

I hope you are all well and happy these days. Well here’s another little story I just wrote, a two parter and I’ll post the second part in a couple of days. This was a difficult one to write, not sure exactly why, just struggled a lot with it and it only bears a passing similarity to what I originally invisioned. You may recognise the inspiration for it but I’ll let you work out that for yourself, it was actually John Wyndham’s take on the tale that put the idea in my head but I’m quite sure he wouldn’t have written it like this…ever!

As ever I hope you enjoy…

FtF

__________________________

It had been a weird week.

It had started with the letter from the solicitors. Of course not the solicitors he had been using for years but some anonymous company from the capital. He hadn’t been their first point of contact as was made plain in the very official letter but he knew that they wouldn’t have got much sense from his mother. It had been well over five years since anyone got any sense out of his mother. Almost a year to the day after his father had died of an aneurism his mother’s dementia had finally taken full hold of her mental capabilities and the home help was no longer enough and he’d had her taken into the ‘home’.

His wife had made pains to call it a ‘care-facility’ but it was a home. A very good quality and expensive home which was always trying to at least arrest or slow the progress of the dementia that couldn’t be cured but it was still a home. There was never any way they could have taken care of her themselves and she did (rarely it had to be said) scare the kids but there was still many a night when he lay awake listening to Andrea lying beside him, the soft rhythmic melody of her breathing the only sound in the room, when he stared up at the dim ceiling and felt the sting of a guilty tear run down his cheek.

He’d had to sit down when he got to the second paragraph in the solicitor’s letter that told him his Grandfather had died just twelve days previously.

It wasn’t the shock of his Grandfather’s death that had taken the very air from his lungs but the shock of his Grandfather’s life.

He’d had a Grandfather!

Of course he’d known he’d had a grandfather but he’d been told that he had died before he was born. Even before he proceeded to the rest of the letter he’d grabbed the dropped envelope up from the floor and treble checked that it had been addressed to him. When he was satisfied that he was the ‘John Keller’, son of Harold and Charlotte (nee Brunswick) Keller that the letter referred to he finished reading it. It seemed he was the sole heir to a sizable inheritance (even after tax) and that he should contact them as soon as possible.

****

A visit to the capital and the very officious solicitors had been arranged where he found out that sizable meant almost a half million pounds not including the single property that his ‘Grandfather’ had died in.

****

The ‘property’ was in a very swanky set of flats overlooking the river. He met the Building Manager (he was sure they just used to be called Caretakers) that afternoon and was shown up to the flat, just one floor below the penthouse. The manager had been ‘uncomfortable’ but he guessed he didn’t often have to show the ‘bereaved’ the scene of a family member’s death.

Where the entire entire block had appeared ‘Posh’ he was surprised to feel like he stepped into a time-capsule when he entered his Grandfather’s residence. It could have easily have been ‘digs’ from a Victorian terrace just after the second world war. He already knew that the building was only twenty years old and yet he could easily have imagined the remnants of ‘black-out’ tape still smearing the window panes as if it was just after the war.

“He died just there…” pointed the manager to a well worn seat beside the window. “There’d been an anonymous call to the police and when they arrived I let them in with my Master Key.”

John looked at the fat balding man and wandered over towards the chair still feeling, as he had all week, very surreal. “Here?” he asked.

The man nodded, “Yes… with his hand on the window ledge… and a smile… he looked very happy…”

He studied the man’s face till he turned away and found something non-interactive that was of interest. “Thank you… I’ll let you know when I’m leaving…” The man didn’t wait further and almost dashed from the room before John had finished the sentence.

“Odd fucker…” John murmured to himself. He wondered about the ‘smile’, the coroner’s report had shown that he had died of a massive coronary and although ‘Cardiac’ wasn’t his chosen field in medicine he knew that generally it wasn’t a pleasant way to die. “An anonymous phone call…” he pondered although he knew the final outcome of the Inquest had stated that he had died of natural causes.

****

He spent the rest of the afternoon going through the flat finding very little of anything to describe his Grandfather’s personality except that he was very old. The solicitor’s had told him that he had just celebrated his ninety-third birthday. John doubted if Walter Keller had celebrated much of anything in the past twenty years. He called his wife as he locked up the flat and told her that he’d spend the night in the capital and head back late the next afternoon.

He could have stayed at the flat but it was the home of a stranger and it wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford to stay in a hotel now. He stayed in a very comfortable hotel on the edge of the theatre district and had a very pleasant meal in the class of restaurant that he would have normally avoided because of the price-tag.

Sleep evaded him for a long time that night and when it did eventually come it was racked with disturbing dreams. He awoke the next morning feeling more tired than he had when he had slipped between the soft clean covers of the bed. His dreams, or possibly nightmares, evaporated in dawn’s early light and all he was left with was the hint of a melody long forgotten and not fully remembered bouncing around his head.

****

He visited his mother first thing the next morning just outside the capital. She was bright and cheerful and had no idea who he was. He asked her about her father-in-law.  “My father-in-law… is that what you say young man? He was dead years before I married Harry. Didn’t even come to the wedding… She never talked about him…”

It took at least two hours of cajoling and humouring before John was happy that his mother’s first answer was probably the truth at least to the best of her confused recollection. It seems his father had not known his own father or had never, ever, talked about him. John sensed that it was the first that had been true. As was the case with every time he saw his mother these days he departed with a deep sense of melancholy although this time it was tempered with a curiosity about why his Grandfather had seemingly become a social pariah to his own family.

****

The flat smelt even mustier than it had the day before and the first thing John did was to throw the curtains wide and open the windows. He spent a couple of hours boxing up old clothes and the accumulated paraphernalia that comes with a long life but still had failed to get any sense of what his Grandfather had been like.

It was getting on for mid-afternoon and after a trip down to ground level to a local Deli he sat down in the chair his Grandfather had died in. It didn’t bother him in the slightest that this was where a life had finally extinguished. He was after all an Oncology specialist and dealt with the dead and the dying and the despairing all through the week. He had deliberately ‘calloused’ the skin of his feelings at work, it was the only way to survive, and it was a rarity that anything got through. What had been harder to do after the first few years in the field was to be able to open up to his own family and be able to show his emotions. He wondered if he was cast from the same mould as his unknown Grandfather as he looked about the flat.

The chair though worn and frayed was remarkably comfortable and the view out of the window was quite something. It looked across the city with a long slow bend in the river in the foreground and the financial districts in the distance. There were at least five or six world famous landmarks easily discernable in the panoramic vista. He reached down to pick up the paper bag from the Deli sat beside the chair and his fingers brushed against something just out of sight. He reached further beneath the chair and pulled out an old shoebox.

It was an incredibly old cardboard box and the lid sat awkwardly on top of it where the corners had seperated long ago and it wasn’t much more than a flat tatty piece of card. The price was still visible on the top. It was in shillings and pennies! He was sure that decimalization had occurred just before or just after he was born but figured the box pre-dated that by a number of years. Carefully he placed the box on his lap and lifted the lid clear.

Inside it was full of old letters. As if he was cutting into a seriously ill patient he lifted out the first one. He could just make out the Postmark stamped across a stamp bearing the profile of a King. It looked like it was just after the Second World War. He almost wished he had those gloves that you saw ‘boffins’ using in musty libraries in movies and on television as he carefully opened the envelope and slipped the wafer thin paper from its cocoon.

‘Dear Wally,’ it began and that was as far as the formality went. He almost dropped the letter as the author, obviously female, went into graphic detail about what she would like to do to his Grandfather.

“Fuck me! Or rather you Grandpa!” muttered John to the pornographic missal in his hands. Obviously his Grandmother wasn’t the shy retiring type in his youth as he felt his own loins stirring with the detail she was using. There was absolutely no hint of the social traditions of the time and she simply came across as a ‘Porn Star’ or if he was honest a ‘Whore’ although she obviously wasn’t looking for payment she was simply wanting Wally’s cock. “My Grandma, the nymphomaniac!” he chuckled.

He had only read the first couple of paragraphs and slipped the paper back into the envelope and was about to place it back into the box with the rest of the Love-Letters when he noticed the second envelope sitting inside with a patina of dust at the top edge. He stared at it and knew that the handwriting scrawled across the front of an address somewhere in the east of the city wasn’t the same as that in the letter he had just glimpsed. Tentatively he reached into the box and tipped the second letter forwards with his fingertip revealing the one behind and then the next and the next.

As far as he could tell no two of the letters had been written by the same hand. He was all of a sudden feeling very hot as he reached and pulled a random one from the middle. Once again it was almost pornography although this authoress did seem to have a more literary bent. She had also provided a photograph. It was sepia and faded almost to grey in the middle and the edges were slightly blackened where the silver nitrate in the photograph had oxidized. The woman and John assumed the author of the letter was the one knelt on a bed with her knees spread wide and at least, though it was hard to tell with the quality of the photo, three fingers buried in her crotch. “Fuck m* Wa*ly… I’m your slut, S*ra” was scrawled across the bottom, some of the letters having faded completely.

John picked out four more letters out of at least thirty or forty and all were from different women and all were proclaiming their ‘Lust’ not even their love, for him.

The last one he picked out was from a woman of possible high social standing judging by the broken wax seal on the envelope. He couldn’t believe his eyes as this woman, Annabelle, was offering her own daughter, Miranda, to my Grandfather. John read this entire letter and where the woman, Isabella, had made the offer initially if ‘Walter’ would consent to fuck her again as well she became more desperate the further it went on. John was finding it harder to believe and wondered if these were all just fakes his solitary ancestor had written himself. The daughter it seemed was only seventeen and hadn’t yet made her appearance as a debutante within those higher social circles of the time. She was also it seemed still a virgin and yet the mother was giving her away, was promising that she and her daughter would do absolutely anything for ‘Walter’ even as far as ‘cleaning’ up after he had taken her daughter’s maidenhood!

John sat in the chair stunned by the discovery he had just made. He looked down at his crotch, his hard-on obvious beneath his trousers and wondered what his Grandfather had that all these women wanted. He knew he wasn’t particularly blessed in the genitalia department at pretty much average size so if it was Wally’s cock he hadn’t passed down that particular gene code.

He wondered if Andrea, sitting at home would find the letters disgusting or erotic.

He placed the letters carefully back in the shoebox and placed the cover on top finally lifting his cold coffee from the floor and looking out of the window as the shadows began to lengthen from the sun dropping behind the building.

He probably sat there for an hour his mind reeling at all he had learned in the last week and all he had read during the afternoon. His thigh gave a twitch and he stood up quickly feeling the muscle stiffen with the onset of a ‘dead-leg’. He massaged the muscle firmly and the sensation began to dissipate. Stretching he rested his hand on the window shelf and looked down at the street below. The pavement was starting to get busy as people were heading home from work, even though it was seven stories below he could make out a tall brunette striding along the cracked paving in a smart business suit atop a pencil skirt that stopped just above her knees.

He could almost hear the click-clack of her heels, could imagine the whisper of nylon against nylon as the insides of her thighs brushed back and forth. For a moment he ‘felt’ her breath being pulled into her lungs through her small upturned nose, her breasts rise on her chest, her nipples harden beneath her blouse, pressing through the black lace bra beneath. A sensation of dizziness assaulted his mind as he felt his own nails scratch against the stitching running down the left side of her skirt and for just a moment he felt his/her pussy warm and moisten.

She stopped still in her tracks and looked up at the block of flats beside her and stared straight into the unseen eyes looking down at her. She didn’t feel spied upon, abused, violated or any of the normal responses ingrained into her since childhood. She just felt want. She turned about and began to head for the covered entrance to the building without conscious decision.

He pulled himself back from the window, banging the back of his knee against the arm of the chair and almost fell to the carpeted floor. “What the fuck?” he whispered. He looked at his right hand, the one that had been resting on the window shelf. He stared at the Life line and Heart line that looked all too familiar. And yet the two for a brief second seemed to be entwined as if that was how they had always been. Pins and needles spread from his palm and lashed up his arm and almost as soon as they had appeared they had gone.

She stood looking at the covered entrance to the building wondering why she had been about to enter it. “What the fuck?” she whispered to herself and turned away, a little bewildered, heading for the local tube station. “Since when did you start using profanities Laura?” she questioned herself. ‘And when did you’re pussy get so wet?’ she thought silently.

He stared at the window shelf. The innocent looking piece of white painted wood, a couple of chips broken about the edge but pretty much a non-descript feature common to millions of homes all over the world. Of course it had been where his recently appeared and deceased Grandfather’s hand had been resting when he died! Not clutched to his chest like most average sufferers of fatal cardiac events. No resting on the window sill with a smile on his face.

John shook his head and stepped towards the window without any hesitation and as if he had been doing it for twenty years simply lifted the wood away from the window revealing the void beneath it and the object within.

He lifted the oblong object out of the cavity carved beneath the sill swathed in bubble-wrap. Even through the optical distortion of the tiny hemispheres he could tell it was a very old wooden box. Her carried it over to the small occasional table and gently un-wrapped it. As he laid bare the top he could a myriad of signs and emblems carved into the dark wood, the grain of the wood seemed to flow and twist with the strange symbols as if the wood had grown that way instead of some ancient carpenter carving them into it with a metal tool. His fingers tingled as they traced the patterns, an echo of the sensation he had felt when his hand had been placed above it on the window ledge. His eyes were constantly drawn across the maze of markings always dragging them back to the lightly worn point at the centre of the front edge.

A dimple in the corner edge just the same size as that of an adult’s thumb. There seemed to be no catch holding it closed and he realised he hadn’t breathed since he had exposed the wood to the dimming evening light. If the box was as fascinating as it was, what did the contents hold in store for him? He inhaled deeply and placed his right thumb in the dimple.

 Any trembles that had been causing his hand to shake immediately ceased as he lifted the lid. He had expected it to creak and resist opening but although the hinge on the opposite side was apparently crusted with threads of rust it lifted up easily exposing a lush red velvet interior. The smallest hint of dust had crept in from outside marking the perimeter of the cushioning within. The centre was completely clean as if it had been hermetically sealed like the modern surgery tools he used. A strong aroma wafted up to his nose. The sweet smells of damp grass and flowers, the slightly acidic whiff of rotting leaves filled his nostrils as the hair on the back of his neck stood out straight. He inhaled it deeply and immediately imagined himself standing in a sunlit glade deep in the centre of an impossibly huge forest. In the centre of the glade poking up through the rough grass was a single block of white stone about three foot square and rising two feet above the ground. No light permeated through the trees and no animals moved within the clearing but he sensed/knew that beneath the shadows of the tall trees they waited. Waited for the unwary traveller!

He pulled himself back to the present, thinking it strange, not that he had imagined the glade but that he had sensed that the scene had been years if not centuries earlier. Possibly even a millennia before the present day?  

There, lying in the centre of the box was a length of wood; maybe eight inches in length and a half inch in diameter narrowing at either end. He grinned at the object for a moment imagining it was a wand and then laughing quietly as he felt the idea wasn’t that insane. There were holes dotted along the side and one in either end. It was a flute or a whistle of some sort.

He looked up and saw that the afternoon had disappeared and evening was rapidly changing to night. He remembered the woman down on the street and how she had lost minutes and found herself staring at the entrance below. He knew there was no way he could know what and how she felt. But he did. He closed the lid on the box and wrapped it back up in the bubble-wrap before placing it carefully into his over-night bag along with the box of letters.

He looked around the flat detached from the world feeling as if part of him would forever be trapped within the glimpsed glade from faraway and long ago. He shook his head and picked up the keys from the table and turned out the lights sure that he would never return. Stepping out into the brightly painted corridor drew him back to reality with a bump.

“Oh sorry” he said to the victim of his preoccupation.

“My fault entirely, I should have been looking where I was going” answered a well dressed woman in her late forties.

John’s hand gripped the handle of the overnight bag tighter as instinctively he looked her up and down. She was a good foot shorter than his 6’2” and well rounded, almost fat. His eyes remained a fraction too long on her very large breasts stretching what looked like a cashmere sweater. As he dragged his eyes up to meet her dark brown ones he saw that she didn’t mind where he had been gazing and somehow knew that she hadn’t bumped into him accidentally.

“You must be Walter’s son?” she asked offering a small chubby hand.

“His grandson, actually, John Keller” he answered.

“Really? Grandson, I didn’t mean to suggest that you were old, just I didn’t think Walter was that old!” she shook his hand softly, her fat fingers seeming to caress his as they spoke.

“Did you know Walter?” John asked extricating his hand from hers.

“A little, I’m Maria from across the hall… I only got to know him recently, he seemed very…” she pondered her last word, “sweet!”

He watched this woman now past middle age, who may once have been fairly attractive but now had let things go, lean against the wall and start curling a ringlet of brown hair around her forefinger and slowly run her tongue along her bright red lips. For a few moments he was lost for words as he recognised the signs of a teenager attempting a sultry ‘come-on’. “Well… it’s been a pleasure meeting you, Maria.”

“Not got time for a coffee or something, John?” she asked in what she probably thought was a ‘girly’ voice.

“Ahh… no, I’ve got a train to catch…” he moved around her pulling the door of the flat closed and backed away towards the lift at the end of the hall.

“Well, if you must… you’d better give me your address” she almost demanded before adding, “so I can forward you Walter’s mail!”

“Oh… that’s okay, the caretaker’ll… take care of that!” he stammered.

“It’d be no trouble, no trouble at all, John” she said actually winking at him.

John thanked the Gods above that the lift arrived quickly and that the doors shut swiftly as he pressed the button for the ground floor. The image of Maria disappeared from view as she began bunching up her long skirt in her little pudgy hand.

****

John was glad when he finally arrived home just before nine that night. He’d become increasingly paranoid on the train as he imagined he was getting odd stares from the other passengers, mainly the female ones of all ages and even a couple of ones from two or three men.

The door opened as he inserted his key into the lock to be hugged warmly by a very welcome Andrea. He kissed his wife tenderly as he felt her arms wrap around the small of his back and push the weirdness and paranoia of the last few hours away into the dark outside. The two boys were already in bed but he knew that the eldest would still be awake and went up to see him and tuck him deeper beneath his ‘Football’ quilt.

The younger one was sprawled across his own bed having kicked his ‘Doctor Who’ quilt completely off the bed. He smiled happily as he looked down at the small figure and lifted the figure of Mark Smith back on top of him knowing that when he and Andrea went to bed they would have to replace it again. He dropped his overnight bag into the bottom of the walk-in cupboard in their bedroom having emptied his dirty clothes into the adjacent hamper. His Grandfather’s possessions remained within and when the door ‘snicked’ shut seemed to lose their unusual atmosphere.

When he came back downstairs Andrea was sitting in the lounge, a small red furry blanket wrapped around her feet and a glass of red wine beside his favoured seat. They chatted about his day, the paperback novel in his wife’s hand ignored as he told her about his Grandfather’s flat. He didn’t worry that he left out all the strange feelings he had experienced as well as the shocking letters and mysterious box he had discovered.

The more time passed the less real the events from the afternoon had seemed till he was rationalising that he might be going down with the flu or something. The two of them headed up to bed just before eleven, John following her up the stairs admiring the ass he had loved for so long. Andrea seemed to be putting a little more wiggle into her step as she ascended.

After brushing their teeth and attending to the other necessities of life they slipped between the covers of their bed and Andrea folded herself into her husband’s embrace. He lay there looking up at the ceiling comforted by the warmth of her body against his. He let his head roll to the side away from his wife and glanced at the cupboard and the unusual items inside. As he rolled his head back he felt his wife’s lips brush across his shoulder and the nails of her right hand thread their way through the small hairs coating his abdomen. He pulled her tighter and her hand seemed to hesitate before changing direction and moving down his stomach. His flaccid cock twitched in responsive hope.

Turning his head further towards his wife her mouth moved rapidly along his shoulder to nuzzle into his neck and her hand slid over his boxer’s to trace the growing outline of his manhood. “Missed me?” he whispered.

“Mmmhmm” she murmured into his neck followed by a further moan as she felt his hand gather up her nightdress exposing her ass beneath the bedclothes as she felt his other hand cup and gently squeeze her right bosom. She squeezed and pulled on her husband’s cock harder drawing the blood into it like a magnet feeling it swell and stiffen rapidly. Her lips moved up to his ear, “Maybe I just missed your cock” she breathed.

John dropped his hand away from Andrea’s breast and to her hip pulling her on top of him and almost ripping her nightdress as he pulled it over her head. As the soft material fluttered to the floor Andrea knelt astride his thighs completely naked and looked down at him in the dim light filtering through the curtains from the street lights outside. She reached down and massaged his fully erect cock through his boxers as her other hand rested on the top of her thigh, the fingernails lightly scratching the inside of her thigh an inch below her crotch.

John grinned broadly and interlaced his fingers behind his head and stretched his back up off the bed in an arc before relaxing back down. The head of his cock peeked out from the waist band of his boxers, a small drop of clear viscous fluid sparkling in the dim light. “Tell me Andi’, what did you miss about my cock?”

She grinned back at her husband, “Oh… the feel of it inside me… you should have been here this afternoon” She pulled his boxers down letting his erection spring free, her tongue appeared between her lips as she dragged a fingernail up the underside tracing the pulsing vein as it meandered up his length, “I was so… horny… I had to… indulge myself…almost forgot to pick up the kids I got so carried away…”

John tightened the muscles at the base of his cock and watched it flex against his wife’s finger, “So tell me what did you do without my cock?” he shivered as Andrea’s nail slid slowly around his rolled back foreskin and then crested the top of his glans, the point of her nail teasing the eye. They both watched as a heavy drop of clear pre-cum oozed out and around the pink painted nail. He groaned from deep down as his wife scooped up the single drop and lifted it front of her face. Taste it he thought to himself. Her eyes locked with his and she placed her fingertip onto her curled tongue and sucked the droplet into her mouth. Her lips turned up in a grin around her finger. Tell me you want more… you want to suck my cock his thoughts continued.

She slipped the finger from her mouth, “You ought to buy me another vibe, John… the one I got just didn’t seem… enough today…” she shuffled backwards, lifting her left leg to place it between her husband’s. John lifted his leg and felt his wife’s soaking pussy drag backwards along the top of his thigh leaving a sticky warm trail behind it. He watched as his wife blushed, “I had to… visit the fridge…” she dropped her eyes to his cock and wrapped her slim fingers around it slowly pumping it up and down as she settled her spread lips onto his knee.

He flexed his leg feeling his knee press into his wife’s pussy; her lips spread wide and the hard little nub of her clitoris moving slowly back and forth. “So what did you use?” he breathed.

Andrea groaned and slowly began to bend forwards lowering her head towards his erection, “A courgette…” she whispered just before her lips slipped over his glans pushing his foreskin down. John flinched as he felt the tip of her tongue press into the eye of his cock.

“Oh fuck…” he moaned as he felt her lips descend further and seal around his girth, she sucked hard on him and her juices began to pour out of her hot pussy onto his knee and down his thigh and shin. He lifted his ass clear off the bed and his wife willingly took more of his length into her mouth as his hands dropped from behind his head and he threaded his fingers through her hair. She growled around his cock, her tongue sliding beneath it as he tilted his head and stared at the cupboard with his overnight bag inside. Andrea’s hand slipped off the base of his cock and cupped his balls as she took his entire length into her mouth, her nose pressing into his wiry pubic hair. “Ohh…Jesus Christ!” he called out.

Whatever was going on he wasn’t complaining. Andrea had never deep-throated him before, had never been that keen on giving him ‘blow-jobs’ but she was now sucking as hard on his full length as a Porn Star. He bucked his hips and it only seemed to spur her on as her head began to bob up and down. She was grinding her pussy harder and faster against his knee, her other hand had slipped beneath it and urged him to raise it. It almost felt as if she wanted to get his knee inside her trembling pussy. “Oh…ohhh… god I’m cumming…Andi… I’m cumming!” he grunted.

He threw his head back into the pillow as she massaged his balls and they emptied into the back of her throat. Still her mouth remained wrapped around his twitching cock as she sucked down his seed. As the last jet of cum erupted powerfully from his glans he would swear that he smelt the imaginary glade from earlier that afternoon. He came back to the real world almost instantly as Andrea’s pussy clenched violently on his knee and a torrent of juices spurted out dripping down off his leg onto the bed.

As his breathing and heart rate slowed he expected his wife to lift her mouth clear but her hand still massaged his trembling sac, a nail dropping below it to scratch across his taint and the suction from her mouth seemed to increase. She lifted her mouth of for a moment to say “The fucking courgette wasn’t enough… I had to stuff half a cucumber into my cunt!” John was shocked as much as to what she had just admitted as to her use of the ‘bad’ word. She was also determined that his cock wasn’t going to soften and almost by the force of her sucking she kept the blood within his member.

After at least five minutes she pulled her mouth off him, looking down proudly at her work before looking up at him and grinning. Her hand moved across sharply and smacked the side of his cock causing it to bounce from side to side. John gave a small yelp as Andrea calmly stated “Now it’s my turn!” and slipped up his thigh and dropping her soaking pussy straight down onto his erection. There was almost no friction or resistance as it slipped easily inside her soaking quim. He watched in joy and a touch of bewilderment as his wife ‘fucked him’. She twisted and turned and ground down onto him, her pussy trembling and squeezing and twitching about him almost continually. He watched as she grasped her own breasts, stretching her nipples as she bounced up and down.

Breathing heavily she slipped off his cock and grasped it with her hand urging/pulling him up by it as she twisted around and bent forward on her knees. “Fuck me you bastard! Fuck my cunt NOW!” she demanded. She only released his length as she felt the head slip easily in between her labia. Her arms went down raising her ass right up into the air and John drove his cock as hard as he could into her, his hands grabbing the sides of her arse tightly.

The sweat was pouring from the two of them as they thrashed back and forth on the bed. He would once again swear that his wife seemed to be orgasming with every single thrust and only when he emptied his balls for the second time did she seem satisfied. Her face was buried in the bed and he knew she had bitten down on the sheets as she screamed into the mattress. The two of them collapsed to the side and within moments they had both succumbed to exhaustion and fallen asleep still coupled.

He awoke an hour or so later, his cock semi-hard still in his wife’s hot wet pussy and managed to reach for the discarded bed clothes and pull them over their naked forms.

****

The sun was trying to slide in through the narrow gap in the curtains the next morning when John awoke. The two of them had barely moved during the night and they were still joined. He felt his cock throb from within his wife full of its usual morning ardour and before he was fully awake he began to slide slowly in and out of her. Andrea moaned quietly and began to thrust back against him, clamping her pussy around him. It was slow and easy, much more like their usual love-making and after a short while the two of them climaxed together. This time they managed to crawl back up the bed and pull the duvet over them before cuddling and falling back to sleep once again.

They were lucky and got a further two hours sleep before their children came bouncing into the room.

****

That day they both caught each other glancing at the other, smiles on their lips and curiosity in their eyes. In the late afternoon John entered his study after retrieving his Grandfather’s letters and turned on his laptop hoping to find a number of answers.

His initial search of a biography for his Grandfather turned up very little. All he found was the Birth, Death and Marriage Certificates and the Birth Certificate of his only son. He clicked onto the National Medical Database and entered his password. He knew that it was against the rules to access personal records of people unrelated to his work but went ahead and began searching. It took him a few minutes to find his Grandfather’s NHS number but once he had it more details poured in. There were large gaps in the records probably due to the fact that some of the files were still waiting to be uploaded onto the database and some had probably been lost down the years but there was still a large proportion of his life there.

One of the first things he noted and returned to check the Birth Certificate he had seen earlier was that the place of birth was different. The official document stated that he had been born in St Mary’s Hospital in London in1919. At some point in the early 1950’s his Grandfather had filled out a form stating he had been born in a town called Rinteln in Germany in 1917 although the birthday was the same.

John considered the information in front of him for some time and figured that his Grandfather had obviously been a refugee after the Second World War and prayed that the ambiguity wasn’t because of some War Crime or something equally nasty. The Medical Records seemed to back up the fact that he wasn’t born in England as the first log showed a vaccination in 1948 which would have meant he had never seen a doctor in his first thirty years. The search engine continued to trawl and after thirty minutes a new series of documents began to appear.

He glanced up to the ceiling where the overnight bag rested in the cupboard in his bedroom and back at the computer screen as multiple Birth Certificates began to list. When the search finally ended there was seventeen separate certificates listed. He scanned the list and two names stood out both with the same surname. He clicked on them both and saw that Annabelle and Miranda had both given birth to baby girls in 1956 and had both listed my Grandfather as the ‘father’. “Fuck” breathed John.

After another two hours of searching, also using some of the information the solicitors had supplied him it appeared that his Grandfather had never had a proper job, had sired at least twenty children out of wedlock and as far as he could tell had been given money for the ‘privilege’. The financial records indicated that he’d had a whole plethora of ‘sponsors’ who’d given him sums of money ranging from hundreds of pounds up to several donations in the tens of thousands of pounds. Most of the children and the donations had occurred from 1949 to 1979 when he would have been sixty or sixty-two years of age.

John shut down the computer feeling all the more bewildered and left the study wondering exactly who or possibly what was his Grandfather.

****

He entered the kitchen; the two boys were playing in the lounge on the latest video game while Andrea was sipping a tea gazing out of the window. He stared at his wife as the sun shone through her long skirt illuminating the silhouette of her shapely legs. His eyes followed the line of her leg from her bare foot up along her shin and over her knee along her thigh. She stirred on the seat and uncrossed her legs still unaware he was standing in the doorway. He was just wondering if the two of them could nip upstairs and have some ‘quality time’ before the boys began to argue. Andrea placed the cup on the table and a finger began to lightly stroke her exposed flesh above the neckline of the pale blue T-shirt she was wearing.

The phone rang abruptly shaking him from his wishful thoughts and two seconds later the boys began shouting at each other. Andrea looked up as if she’d been a ‘million miles’ away and saw him standing there. She glanced at the phone and he said “You get the phone, I’ll beat the kids!” and turned around entering the lounge seeing his two offspring staring daggers at each other. Why can’t you just get along, he thought.

He stopped still as the eldest turned to the youngest and handed him the controller, “You have a go then. If you do better than me you get two ‘lives’.”

The younger one nodded and replied “Okay and if I do worse you get two ‘lives’.”

He shook his head and couldn’t believe what would normally have erupted into World War Three in his lounge had evaporated so quickly. Maybe they’re growing up after all he thought silently.

“It’s the hospital” called Andrea from behind him. John moved back into the kitchen still looking over his shoulder at his two children playing in harmony. He pulled himself from his thoughts as he took the phone from his wife, “Hi, Doctor Keller here.” The conversation was brief and to the point.

“I got to go in,” he watched his wife pull a ‘sad’ face, “hopefully I’ll only be an hour or so as long as the traffic isn’t too bad.”

He could see his wife was ‘pissed’ but she knew what his job was like.

****

The hospital was its usual mix of crisis and boredom. He’d grabbed a coffee from the shop in the entrance and was proceeding up to his office when a nurse and two doctors came hurtling round the corner of the corridor pushing a ‘Crash Cart’ in front of them. He got the vaguest of nods of the Anaesthetist and a smile from the nurse that who knew vaguely. He grinned as he watched the trio rush down the hallway knowing that they were hyped up on adrenalin even though their destination was of a grave (literally at times) nature. He watched as they turned into a ward on the left and admitted to himself he was glad that none of his patients were in there. Of course as often as not when his patients did reach that point they regularly had Do Not Resuscitate Orders so the Crash Team wouldn’t be called.

He unlocked his office and dug out the file on Mr Burrows. He double checked the names of the next of kin and was happy that he had recalled them correctly but it was an insensitive blunder to be made when a loved one was close to death. Mr Burrows had impressed him with his determination in the face of ‘the saboteur’ within. He imagined that the cancerous growth within the patient’s skull was probably the size of table tennis ball if not larger. “Why do we always use sporting equipment to describe these things?” he asked no one in particular. He put away the file and finished his coffee before locking his office and heading down to the ward. No ‘Crash Cart’ would be called for Mr Burrows; there was very little point by now.

He stepped into the side room to see Mr Burrows and his wife and two of his adult children huddled together beside the bed. A nurse, Lizzie if he remembered correctly, was adjusting the morphine drip feeding into the thin left arm. He’d already fixed a sympathetic expression to his face before he entered, “Susie” he said as he took the wife’s frail hand in his own. She looked up and offered a small smile.

‘Doctor’ she mouthed unaware that she’d given no force behind the word.

He nodded to the two young men, “Robert, James” and got unenthusiastic nods in return. Stepping towards the nurse she showed him Mr Burrow’s chart and indicated the new setting she had adjusted the drip too. Looking up at the monitor above the dying man’s head he could see all the vital signs slowly weakening and reckoned the nurse had been right to call him in. It was obvious the old man had less than an hour to live. He felt Lizzie’s hip brush against his and then firmly press against it. Glancing at the young nurse’s profile sure that she wasn’t aware that she was doing it. It was a mistake on his part as he studied her full lips; the image of them wrapped around his cock sprang into his mind and was immediately transmitted to his crotch.

For fuck’s sake, John he thought to himself and moved away around the bed. Looking at the frail old man in the bed he suddenly thought about his recently deceased Grandfather. It occurred to him that he hadn’t seen a single picture of his ancestor since he’d learned of his existence. Placing the chart back on the end of the bed he looked at the wrinkled, liver-spotted eyelids and wondered what it would have been like to have ‘known’ Wally, even with his strange sexual behaviour. A small, almost white, crust marred the corner of his left eye. It was actually very small but it annoyed him that those eyes that had seen seventy odd years of life hadn’t been kept spotless. He moved back to the side of the bed, ushering Lizzie aside with his fingertips placed on her hip. She moved smoothly and with a small smile on those luscious lips out of the way as he dampened a sterile pad and wiped the irksome speck from the patient’s eyelid.

“He’s in no pain… I can actually tell you, from my own experience of surgery, that morphine sleep is… bliss” he said as much to the family as to the slumbering Mr Burrows. “Jack isn’t likely to wake up now… I wish that I could have made it easier” he gulped hard, feeling his Adam’s apple bob uncomfortably in his throat and his eyes sting with tears welling within them. It should be easier he thought silently. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more…”

He shook each of their hands once again, embarrassed as always when they thanked him for everything he had done (and yet in the end had failed to do) and slipped from the room. He stood in the corridor breathing heavily amazed at the power of emotions that had overwhelmed him. ‘Pulling himself together’ he headed for the Nurses Station and began to fill out the necessary forms that would be needed shortly. He’d just finished and had stepped into the Staff lounge waiting for the coffee machine to dispense his chosen beverage when Lizzie stepped through the door, “Doctor” she began as she felt her fingertips rest upon his hip as his had rested on hers a few minutes earlier, “Jack has woken up… he’s asking for you.”

He twisted around and stared at the young nurse and could see her own astonishment written on her features, “He’s awake?”

She nodded, her hand flattened against his hip as the tip of her tongue poked out momentarily between her lips, “I know… I can’t see how, he’s on enough Morphine to…” Her voice trailed off and John knew what she meant. The patient dose was high enough to suppress any amount of pain and was on the borderline of also suppressing his breathing if not beyond it. A tiny millimetre or two more would surely stop his breathing altogether. He placed his hands on the small nurse’s shoulders and saw her eye’s dampening. The next second he had pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms about her hugging her close. Her own arms slipped around his back and she pulled even harder. His cock, swollen but not hard pressed against her; neither of them seemed to mind or acknowledge the fact as they held each other for at least half a minute.

Eventually he broke from the small woman and they shared small smiles between them before he left his coffee standing beneath the machine and exited the lounge. As he walked down the corridor he wondered at his first ever ‘unprofessional’ action during his career. Lizzie, herself, had also always been the model of professionalism and had never shown any other emotions apart from those appropriate between a doctor and an experienced, capable Nurse.

He stepped back into the dying man’s room only just stopping from shaking his head as he opened the door. Jack was still lying down on the bed, still frail and fragile looking but his eyes were open and alert. “Doc…” he whispered.

John moved up beside the patient he had known for almost three years since he had first taken the man’s case, “Take it easy, Jack.”

“Ahh now Doc, how much easier can I take it?” John couldn’t help but smile. “I wanted to thank you, for all that you did.”

“Not enough though…” answered John.

“You did plenty… You gave me time to say goodbye and what more could a man ask for?”

He didn’t know where the thought came from but he said it anyway, “Scoring the winning goal in the FA Cup for Arsenal?”

“Well, there is that!” answered the football fan from the bed, “Still you did your best and that’s all you can do!”

“You did all the hard work, Jack, I was just…” he searched for the right words, “I was just the coach.”

“And a good coach at that, Doc!” the door to the room opened and the dying man’s daughter rushed in carrying a small bundle in her arms. Tears were rolling down her cheeks as her husband, John assumed, followed carrying various cases. “Look at that Doc, you gave me the time I needed!” he reached up and shook the doctor’s hand with a grip that defied his health.

John left the room with a smile adorning his mouth. You can’t get better than that he thought. The old man’s daughter had just travelled across the Atlantic with the first Grandchild and had made it in time to say goodbye. He stood once again at the Nurses Station looking about shyly. The ward sister, Catherine, looked up, “What is it, John?” she asked.

He felt himself blushing as he asked the question that any Oncology Doctor should never ask. He was in luck as Catherine, who he would never have suspected, handed him what he needed.

****

He stood outside the building in a small service alley and sucked the poisonous fumes through the small paper tube. It had been over ten years since he had quit smoking but today he wanted one. He didn’t need it, he had just wanted one to have in spite of all that nature and his speciality threw at him over the years. “We’re a last of a dying breed” said Lizzie as she stepped through the emergency exit door, “I have to admit I never knew you were a nicotine fiend.”

Another smoker, he thought, I wonder how many there are here? “I’m not… although I suppose it’s like the adage about there’s no such thing as an ex-alcoholic. Must be at least a decade since I indulged” he replied.

She pulled out her own cigarettes and a disposable lighter, he watched as those lips he’d thought about earlier took a long greedy first hit from the ‘cancer stick’. He could hear the crackle of the burning tobacco and watched her lips pull tightly around the cigarette. “Jack’s just passed away” she said as she lowered her hand.

“Good” he said simply.

****

On the drive home he thought about Jack and he thought about Lizzie. He knew full well that ‘horniness’ was often the natural knee-jerk reaction to death but it was one he seldom felt professionally. The two of them had chatted as Lizzie had smoked two cigarettes, he’d turned down the offer of a second one; he’d felt that he could have just leaned across and kissed her and within moments he would have fucking her up against the wall just outside a ward full of people on the road to death. Some he knew were many years away from that final destination but as always with the Oncology wards there would be two or three that were in their last weeks of life. “Fancy a-‘nother” Lizzie had asked with a sparkle in her eye and he had wondered how close she had been to asking him for a fuck.

Andrea got what Lizzie wanted when he arrived home. He wasn’t sure which of them had been the instigator but the two boys were still happily in front of the television as he’d slammed deep into his wife’s soaking pussy from behind in their en-suite bathroom. He’d filled her spasming cunt with his seed as he imagined Nurse Lizzie greedily sucking his cock.

****

The two of them lay in bed wrapped in each other’s arms that night. Andrea’s fingernails were scratching lightly across John’s abdomen just above his flaccid cock still coated in her juices and slightly dribbling a small amount of his seed. “A hard day at the office, babe?” she asked.

He remembered Jack thanking him, “I guess, Mr Burrows died” he answered. It had been a long time since Andrea had offered commiserations on the ‘passing away’ of his patients; she knew that although the sentiment was honest that it annoyed her husband when he felt powerless in the face of Cancer.

“Was it bad?” she whispered into the darkness.

He grinned, “No, not at all, he awoke just before the end and was able to see his Grandchild for the first and only time.”

“That’s…” Andrea began.

“It is, isn’t it” replied John. His mind wandered to Lizzie with the luscious lips and his soft cock gave a subconscious twitch, he felt the sensitive tip brush across his wife’s stroking fingers. She nuzzled into his neck as he inhaled deeply before some sense of hers raised her curiosity. She moved up to his ear and breathed into it, “Was there something else that happened today?” she whispered.

A slight twist of her little finger and the small nail pressed softly into eye of his cock. It jerked in response and he moaned. Her tongue caressed his earlobe as ‘that’ nail slid minutely up and down, “Come on… you know I can make you tell!”

He felt blood began to divert back into his member and it begin to swell, pushing harder against her fingernail. “Ohh… mmmm… it was nothing…” he muttered. The fingernail disappeared and Andrea’s teeth gripped his earlobe exerting enough pressure to cause a little pain. He wasn’t sure if he should groan or yelp as he reached between her thighs with his left hand. She kept them locked tightly together as he tried to worm his fingers between them till he conceded defeat quickly, “One of the nurses ‘came’ onto me… I think?” he whispered into the darkness.

The pressure released on his ear and Andrea’s thighs relaxed allowing his finger to stroke along her wet slit. She sucked his earlobe hard into her mouth and once again breathed hotly into his ear, “Was she pretty?” Her tongue flicked out probing his ear and her hand wrapped around his rapidly swelling manhood.

“She is…” he replied quietly.

“Tell me what she looks like?”

Her hand pulled up on his cock dragging his sac and balls tightly upwards, “You’ve met her…ahhh… last Christmas… little Lizzie… brunette, slim… blue eyes, a butterfly tattoo on her shoulder and…”

“And?” she squeezed his cock hard.

“Very luscious lips!” he admitted.

He pushed a finger inside Andrea’s wet slit eliciting a groan from his wife, “mmmm… and what did you imagine those luscious lips doing?”

His wife’s mouth slid quickly down his neck and across his chest pausing to nip his nipple. Her fingernails raked down his erection as he reached for the bedside light and turned it on. She looked up at him grinning, “I imagined them sliding down my cock!” he answered.

Her tongue snaked out of her mouth and across her lips, “Something like this?” she asked as she held the base of his cock and shifted her head above it, briefly flicking her tongue across the sensitive head before sliding her mouth all the way down in one go. John groaned deeply as he thrust his manhood up into her descending mouth.

“Ohhh fuck yessss!” he murmured. She sucked powerfully on his length as her tongue snaked within the cocoon of her mouth. Again and again she lifted her head and drove her mouth down on his twitching cock. His eyes were locked on her bobbing hair as he watched his erection disappear in and out of her lips.

She pulled her mouth away licking her lips before asking “Do you think she’d lick my juices from your cock? Do you think she’d eat your cum out of my cunt?” her hand slid up and down his length as her fingernails scratched across his taint.

“I… err… yes, I’d bet she would…” he said with a sureness he didn’t understand, “we’d use her as we wanted!”

Andrea’s chest heaved as she stared at his cock, pumping it hard with one hand as she cupped his sac with the other. “Give me your spunk, you bastard!” she demanded as she lowered her face just above the head of his cock opening her mouth wide. His seed shot out of his cock and sprayed into her mouth and across her face. He watched as his wife climaxed without anything in or touching her pussy. When the last dribble of cum oozed out of his cock’s eye she dropped her mouth once more down his length till the sensitive head pressed against the back of her throat.

Once she was satisfied that he had no more semen to give she moved up the bed and rubbed her dripping pussy against his softening cock as he licked the drops of his own cum from her face and transferred them to her greedy mouth.

Just before the two of them dropped off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, Andrea said “Maybe we should get Lizzie round sometime?”

****

To be continued…

The grass is a star field brought down to earth. The bright full moon shining down on the dew covered grass reflecting the stars above, stellar constellations brought down to earth for the humble to walk upon if they dare!

This cynical atheist feels his soul fill with joy each time I walk across these ancient hills,

Forged beneath the anvils of glaciers, long since melted into the forgotten memories of time.

Watching the suns rise and set where warriors and giants battled and laughed,

Fought for honour and love to be told and listened through generations.

A land where I can stand in the mark of the devil and waltz around a tree planted by the faeries,

Fearing the wail of the Banshee and striving for the Rainbow’s end.

Wandering through my memories wondering if where I went left was where I went wrong.

Cold nights in the heart of summer, warm hearts in the middle of the night,

Kisses infecting my being, love blistering my soul.

Destruction of self and creation of a brand new universe.

All changes and yet the rocks remain to say that all our triumphs and tribulations account for nothing,

And one day, maybe tomorrow, when we’re sharing the soil with the terrible lizards no one will tell,

Of the tears and the beauty

The laughter and the pain,

The crimes and the adventures,

The singing and lamenting,

The loss and the love.

Looking up to the heavens where the Gods look down and down at the sparkling grass, where the dead men look upwards.

Bones beneath the dirt decaying through the years,

memorials above crumbling against the wind

and memories mutating and twisting,

Evaporating in a generational game of Chinese Whispers.

But thoughts and feelings that make the difference, ideas and emotions that are what life is about.

This mayfly existence is enough for me and my love.

I dream of Crom Cruach and Cú Chulainn with his Táin Bó Cúailnge and Michael Collins and Fionn mac Cumhaill and Balor of the Evil Eye and ancient forts and Brendan Behan and James Joyce’s ‘The Dead’ and Ceahli’s and the Craic and the Porter and the Uisce Beatha and that night beside the Lough where the pigs use to swim.

FtF

I’m not doing very well with those ‘Spoiler’ I posted last month. My mind keeps getting distracted and wandering off on different tangents so here’s one I pulled from the vaults. As ever I hope you… err… enjoy it as much as I remembered enjoying writing it.

FtF

______________________

Towards the end of every month I had to travel to a small town in the midlands with my accounting firm.  Generally it would always be mid-week and we would be expected back at our desks the following day. What was notable about this monthly excursion was that I got to see Miss Marks. She was the epitome of professionalism and as we were always in meetings with the senior partner from our firm, they were somewhat old-fashioned; there was rarely a chance to chat.

Miss Marks, I believed her first name was Lisa but couldn’t be sure, was about 5’ 3” tall and brunette.  I guess she was about 28 years of age and always wore very conservative business suits with skirts that always went past her knees. Her hair was in a short bob framing her face perfectly. About the only thing that didn’t conform was her footwear. In the summer months they would invariably be at least 4” heels, often with chrome toes and in the winter the definitive “cum-fuck-me” boots. Her figure was always constrained but seemed to hint at a shapely bosom and a gorgeous ass.

Those meetings were always a bore, so I spent many a moment fantasizing about the delectable Miss Marks. Occasionally I would be lost in a scenario where I was fucking her across the boardroom table or she would be beneath the table sucking on my engorged cock. Once or twice the direction of the meeting would swing round to me and I would take a moment to return to the real world. Generally I feigned deep consideration before replying but at least once I caught Miss Marks’ eyes and could have sworn I saw an unprofessional twinkle there. Probably just wishful thinking on my part. The nature and length of the meetings often meant that I would be unable to relieve my desire until the train journey home where a wank in the toilets was a necessity. Though I have to admit to pretending a case of nausea once so I could use the facilities in the middle of a particularly dull and therefore within my mind, erotic meeting.

It was approaching the end of the tax year when a meeting was scheduled for a Thursday and as there was a lot to be done we were put up in a local hotel. Even then on the first day we didn’t finish till gone 9pm and all we did was get a bite to eat and head for our rooms. We managed to finish our work by 3pm the next day. The rest of my firm quickly collected there belongings from the hotel and headed back home. I was in no rush and hoped, vainly as it turned out, to get better acquainted with Miss Marks. As I gathered my papers together I saw her gorgeous ass quickly heading out the door and my spirits, along with ny face, immediately sank.

Disappointed, I headed back to the hotel and decided, as there was no nubile young filly waiting in my bed at home to ravish me the moment I got through the door, to stay an extra night. The town was quite picturesque and from the previous night seemed to have a couple of lively pubs. Back in my room I showered and lay down on the bed as the spring sun shone in through the window. My mind drifted to the object of my fantasies and I had a very pleasant and leisurely wank. I guess I fell asleep for I woke much later to see the street lights on outside. I cleaned up my earlier issue and got dressed. Looking at the time I saw it was gone 10pm so quickly headed out of my room.

I asked at the reception if they could recommend a good pub and was told the Griffin served a good pint but as there was only 20 minutes drinking time left that I might want to try a club called the Oasis about 5 minutes walk away. Heading out into the night I mulled over where to head before deciding on the club. I found it without any problem and headed inside. I was slightly disappointed as there weren’t very many people in, all the more so as it was quite a small venue. Nevertheless I headed to the bar and ordered myself a pint and chaser. The barmaid, seeing the look on my face, volunteered that the place would be heaving in about 25 minutes when the pubs emptied. True to her word and almost to the minute a multitude poured through the doors and soon there was hardly room to move. With the crowd filling the place the music was cranked up and the dance floor writhed with a mass of bodies.

I wasn’t particularly on the prowl; having set my sights on the delectable, yet unavailable Miss Marks, and having always enjoyed dancing I soon joined the dance floor and surrendered myself to the beat. I was enjoying myself amid the mass of sweaty bodies, vaguely people watching, and had decided I was glad I had come. Feeling no need to be anything other than the part of the “body music” I suddenly felt as if I was being watched. Looking around I noticed a young woman dancing with her back to another woman. The couple were about five metres away from me and presented a very nice spectacle as they gyrated enthusiastically against each other.

They were both grinding hard against each other, hands slipping up n down the sides of each others bodies. The woman in front, maybe twenty-one years old, was wearing a baggy t-shirt, Betty Boop on the front in typical sultry pose, and a light coloured skirt that stopped about two inches below her crotch. Her friend kept flicking the sides of the skirt, never actually giving anything away, and alternately lifting the t-shirt and pulling it tight across the girl’s ample, yet braless, breasts. The girl’s hair was gelled back against her scalp exposing many piercings in her ears. Her face was heavily made up, Goth style, and a heavy chain hung round her neck.

There seemed to plenty of the local young wolves gravitating around them and though very pleasant and erotic to watch, when the next song finished, I headed for the bar. Eventually I managed to get a bottle of water and was just swallowing my first mouthful when a finger tapped me on the shoulder. I turned and saw the Goth from the dance floor.

“Any chance of some of that water please?” she asked.

I passed the bottle to the girl and she promptly up-ended the bottle over her head and let the water cascade all over her. Smiling I watched the water soak into her t-shirt and her breasts appear through the sodden material, her nipples hardened and a hoop through her right nipple became obvious.

“You like Betty Boop, do you? “She asked.

Without lifting my eyes from her piercing I answered smiling “Yep. I’m a big fan.”

She laughed and only then did I look up into her kohl streaked eyes. The make-up was running down over her cheeks and jaw to drip onto Betty below. I liked the way she obviously knew what was happening to her previously precisely administered make-up and didn’t care in the slightest.

“Care to buy a girl a drink?”

“Are you going to pour this one all over yourself again?” I quizzed.

“Nope, I only do that with water and right now I’d like a Bison Vodka.”

At this point I will describe myself. I’m 35 years of age, just over 6’ and slim build with short black hair. I’m fairly good lucking, not sure the grey appearing round my temples makes me look distinguished or not, but I know I am no Brad Pitt. Smiling back at her I lead the way to the bar. I attracted the attention of the barmaid from earlier, she nodded to me and after a minute she came over with a glass of a clear, slightly oily looking, drink.

“I didn’t order this.” I shouted over the din.

“It’s the only thing Lorna drinks, hell; she’s the only one who drinks it anyway.”

Looking over my shoulder, ‘Lorna’ smiled and shrugged.

I placed the rest of the order, paid and grabbed the drinks. Lorna led the way through the club to the far wall where there were some hi-tables. I watched her hips swing beneath her skirt noticing the trendy trainers on her feet. She managed to find an empty table and we slid in behind it. I placed her vodka and my whiskey on the table then pulled a fresh bottle of water from my back pocket and placed it between our drinks. She looked at the bottle and raised an eyebrow; I shrugged my shoulders in reply earning a smile.

“So…” I began.

“Why you?” she interrupted.

“I was wondering.” looking round the dance floor at all the young studs closer to her age.

“Well, they’re all just grope ‘n fumble material and this aint a large town… and I guess you’re a stranger rounds these parts”

“Oh. I’ve been here before.”

“Not in this club you haven’t!”

“True.” I replied.

“So what brings to our little ‘burb?”

“Would you believe I’m an assistant tree surgeon?”

“No… I figure you’re in banking or the like.” She replied, a little too close to the truth.

“Well in my soul I want to look after trees… so what about you?”

“Oh, I just work in one of the local factories, very humdrum.”

We paused in our conversation to sip our drinks, both looking the other over. To be honest she looked a mess with her make-up streaked all down her face, but the slight grin playing round her lips and the obvious “couldn’t give a fuck” attitude made up for it. And there was no doubt in my mind that once the kohl was removed, and hopefully her clothing too, she was a good looking girl.

“So are we going to chit-chat for an hour or two, dance the old dance as we try to coerce the other into getting down ‘n dirty or should we just drink up and go fuck each others brains out?” she asked me in the most casual of tones.

I almost spat my drink out and then almost choked swallowing it. She watched me regain my composure her smile growing broader.

When I got myself under control I looked straight at her, trying to muster my bravado as much as could, and replied “Oh the latter definitely!”

With that she up-ended her drink downing the remaining half of her glass in one, taking my hand and started to lead us away from the table. She paused for just a second and reached back and grabbed the bottle of water and then led me on. As we passed a table further on she called out to a young lad sitting at the table,” See you tomorrow Anna.” Slightly puzzled I looked back and noticed the daft grin on his face when a head popped up from beneath the table and called back “See you L, have fun girl!” it was Lorna’s dance partner from earlier who then looked right at me and a huge grin spread across her face. Just as she disappeared beneath the table she shouted “About time too!”

Completely puzzled I followed Lorna; we quickly grabbed our coats from the cloakroom, and then went out through an emergency exit and into the cold night air. We passed through a yard gate and then less than ten steps later we were walking into a small park. Her pace barely slackened and I imagine if I had been much shorter I might have had to trot to keep up with her. The moon was high, full and bright and I could see she was leading me to a children’s playground. She led me to the swings and quickly sat me down.

Within a moment she had straddled my lap, wrapped her arms around me, and I felt her tongue slide across my lips. Sliding my hands across her back I returned the kiss. The kiss started slow and soft but gradually built in intensity, tongues sliding in and out of each others mouths and over and over each other. She pulled my t-shirt out of my jeans and pushed her hands inside my waistband digging her nails into the flesh of my cheeks. I flexed my legs involuntarily and started us swinging. I moved my hands down and up under skirt as I felt the hard metal of her nipple piercing rub across my own nipple. Sliding my fingers into the legs of her knickers I squeezed her cheeks gaining a low moan from her. I could feel her dampness spreading from her crotch. Sliding my hands further the tip of my finger reached her lips and pressed between them. Lorna groaned and shoved her hips backwards sliding her wet pussy onto my finger.

She pulled her hands out of the rear of my jeans and quickly moved them round the front to undo my belt. The top button quickly followed suit and she slipped a slender hand inside to wrap her fingers around my erect cock. She pulled on it hard, as her other hand lowered my zip and she thrust her hips backwards to impale herself further onto my finger. Her juices were running into my palm as I slipped a second finger into her tight snatch. Lorna struggled to shove my jeans down, so, taking the weight momentarily on my feet I lifted my hips and helped pull my jeans lower. The cold night air cooled my ass as she sat back onto my lap rubbing my member against her wet lips through her underwear. Sitting back onto the swing we rocked back and forth as she ground herself against me. One hand placed in the small of her back, she reached down between us and pulled her sodden knickers to one side and rubbed the head of my engorged cock across her clit.

Pulling my fingers from her hot cunt I lifted her hips slightly and Lorna guided my length into her. She dropped herself down onto me taking all of my length all the way inside her. Leaning back and grabbing the chains of the swing she began to rock us faster, pumping up and down on me. I bucked my hips as much as I could to meet her thrusts as we swung back and forth under the cloudless sky. As we swung higher so Lorna fucked me harder, the sound of our flesh slapping against each other, echoing through the park. I was pushing up with every back swing as I felt her cunt clench around my cock and the tendons on her neck stand out in the moonlight. I could feel her hot wet pussy sucking along my length as she suddenly bent forwards and bit my neck to stifle her moans as they rapidly got louder. She almost screamed into my shoulder as she came, her teeth sinking into my flesh, pushing me over the edge, my balls tightened and my cum shot deep into her pulsating pussy. She groaned loudly, her cunt rippling along my spurting cock, her juices gushing over my balls. I slammed my feet to the ground causing her to ram violently down onto me. The last of my seed erupted hard against the top of her cunt and this time Lorna did scream.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

I grunted hard as she ground herself harder onto my cock, rubbing her clit against its’ base. Slowly we both quietened as our breathing and pulses returned to normal. I kissed her shoulder as she leant into me. I heard her whisper into my ear.

“Thank you…”

“You’re welcome” I replied.

I kissed her mouth lightly feeling her tongue dart out a little to meet mine. She lifted herself up slowly, feeling my softening cock slip out. She stood in front of me, quickly adjusting her underwear and then reaching to pull up my jeans, carefully sliding the zip up. She did up the button and fastened my belt. I have to say there was a huge grin spread across my face. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and then took my hand.

Once again she led me through the park, this time out through another gate and down an alley and into a small lane. Ahead I could see the lights of the main street, when we were about twenty metres from the end of the lane she turned to me and kissed me.

“So what room are you in?” she asked.

“Oh… Err… 212.” I replied.

“OK then. Your hotel is down the end and round to the right.”

I stood there momentarily confused, looking at her questioningly.

“Well, go on then she said” pointing at the road.

I walked slowly on, looking back at Lorna expecting her to follow, but she just stood there smiling, waving me on. She was still standing there when I turned the corner. Looking round I saw the entrance to the hotel two doors down and somewhat distracted walked towards it. I walked into the brightly lit reception; the night manager was sitting on a couch reading a newspaper.

“Ah. Mr. McIntyre, enjoyable night?” he asked as he looked up.

“Um… err… yeah it was. Very … unexpected but very… enjoyable” I replied.

The manager got up and walked round behind the reception and passed me my keycard.

“Well have a good nights sleep and we will see you in the morning sir.”

“Err… yeah… Ok then… Good night.” I muttered as I walked to the stairs.

Absent mindedly I walked up the stairs and headed for my room.  Smiling to myself, feeling my limp cock in my jeans, damp from mine and Lorna’s juices I walked down the corridor. I put the keycard into my lock and waited for the light to turn green.

“You could try it the other way round; it might actually open the lock for you.” said a voice from behind me.

I turned and there at the corner of the corridor was Lorna, her coat slung over one shoulder leaning against the wall.

“… err… what…” I stammered.

“You don’t think they would have been too happy downstairs if I had walked in with you, do you?”

I stood there looking at her, grinning once again. She walked across, took the keycard from me and inserted it the right way round and the lock opened obligingly. I followed her into the room still grinning. She looked around surveying the room, still lit from the streetlights outside, before turning back to me. Smiling she reached out and pushed my coat from my shoulders. Then she grabbed the bottom of my t-shirt and pulled it up over my head. She pushed me back onto the bed and quickly pulled of my trainers and socks. Once again she undone my belt, button and zip and pulled my jeans down and off my legs. She looked at me lying there grinning and smiled back as she hooked her fingers into the waist band of my boxers and slowly pulled them down.

I put my hands behind my back, still grinning and looked up into Lorna’s eyes. Never breaking eye contact she slowly leant forward as her tongue appeared from between her lips. It was almost like an electric shock as the tip touched the base of my flaccid cock. Slowly she licked up the length to the tip, where a drop of pre-cum sat. She lapped it up before slowly licking back down. Her eyes stayed on mine as she slowly licked up and down my length. Almost with each lick, my cock got slightly harder and longer. As the head began to rise, her licks got broader and she began to kiss the head before moving back down. My cock was rising from my stomach and the next time she reached the tip, her mouth engulfed the head sucking lightly as she did. Once again she licked down my length. My cock fully hard now, she slowly licked upwards, her lips parting over the head. She slowly lowered her head, her mouth sliding down until she swallowed my cock completely. Her lips formed a seal round the base of my member, the head touching the back of her throat; she sucked hard, her cheeks hollowing, drawing upwards till my cock popped from her mouth.

She still held my gaze as she stood at the foot of the bed. She dropped by an inch as she kicked off her trainers; next she pulled off her t-shirt, throwing it onto the bed beside me, exposing her full breasts, the nipples full and erect. She pushed her skirt and panties down in one movement to stand naked before me. I noted that there was only the faintest line of hair rising up from her wet lips. She climbed onto the bed to position her dripping pussy above my swollen cock. Reaching between her legs she held her lips apart as she lowered herself down onto me until she had me totally inside her. Placing one hand on my chest and the other on my knee she began to rock herself upon me. Gradually she began to grind herself harder and faster onto my erect cock drawing her pleasure from me. I rocked my hips in time to her motions feeling Lorna’s internal muscles massage my hard cock. Getting faster and faster I felt her pussy spasm and her juices pour out over my cock and balls. When her orgasm had passed she paused, my cock still fully within her. She looked down at me, a smile playing across her lips.

Keeping me fully inside her, she reached up to her ear and removed one of her many studs. As she did I felt her cunt muscles tighten around my rigid member. She reached up to her other ear and removed another, again her pussy pulsed. She slowly removed all her piercings from her ears, her pussy gripping me each time, until her ears were bare. My fingers dug into the flesh of her hips as my cock was gripped hard within her. Reaching over she pulled the bottle of water from her coat, unscrewed the top, and emptied the contents over her head, body and me. She shook her head, water droplets flying across the bed.  Watching the water run down her torso, I smiled, she reached for her t-shirt. She used the shirt to dry her hair which, without the gel, formed into a loose short bob.

Her face still covered in streaks of kohl make-up resembled some weird B-movie zombie. She rubbed the shirt over her face. When she threw the shirt to the floor, she looked at me, breaking into a huge smile. I realised that without the make-up she looked vaguely familiar. All the time her cunt had been gripping my cock, rippling up and down its length. The orange glow from the streetlights confused me slightly as she ground down hard onto me, still the muscles rippling up and down my length. She fucked me harder, her eyes all the time on mine, slamming down onto me. Her smile began to tighten as her pussy began to ripple quickly around me as her orgasm approached. Still watching me she began to see comprehension dawn on my face. At the moment when I fully realised that Lorna, or Lisa as I had thought, was the object of my desire, the horny Miss Marks, my cock erupted violently into her orgasming cunt.

Lorna/Lisa/Miss Marks screamed as her orgasm overtook her…

The End

_________________________

Well, did you enjoy? I hope you did. Just looked at when I ‘filed’ this and would you believe I’ve been scribbling for over three years. My oh my how time flies…

FtF

I hope you are all well in this year that the Mayans decreed would be the last. Either that or they ran out of stone tablets on which to record their calender. So here’s my take on the End of the World and as some of my friends know I often use the maxim that ‘Everybody Dies’ so why not go with everybody dying! For a while I’ve been wondering about a story regarding ‘what would you do if you only had a day to live?’ And after we entered 2012 the thoughts came together.

So here you go and remember ‘It’s the End of the World as we know it and I feel fine…’

FtF

___________________

2012

Now!

Looking down from the window I can see just a few people milling about the debris strewn streets. Wisps of smoke curl up from two or three burnt out vehicles and the few who now venture out look like ‘lost lambs’ as they pick their way through the shattered glass and abandoned goods from the smashed shop windows. All of them are armed with some form of weapon, be it a simple club or a hunting rifle and they all keep a ‘safe distance from each other unless they are part of a couple. It’s been at least six hours since any sizable gang has walked along the ‘arterial’ feed of our recently booming civilisation.

“Funny how quick all our modern sensibilities fall apart?” I say to my sister-in-law, Jenny, sat on the bed behind me.

“TURNING and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.”

“What’s that?” I ask as I raise the miniature whiskey bottle to my mouth.

“The Second Coming by Yeats” she answers.

“I forgot you studied English your first year at Uni!”

“I always thought that poem was beautiful… and terrible” she replies with a melancholic tone, “Just don’t ask me to quote you all of it, Jim!”

“I won’t.”

“I used to love that poem… it’s been running through my head all this week and now…”

“I know…”

****

7 days ago.

A week and the world fell apart.

We, Jenny and I, had known or at least suspected that something was up for about six months. We weren’t part of any government agency or had anything but the lowest consultancy clearance afforded to us by them but we had seen a couple of worried looks among those two levels above the pay grade we normally dealt with. We also knew about the three satellites that were out of commission.

The loss of any satellite meant huge repercussions in the Tele-communication business but could generally be bypassed or jury rigged until it came back on line. When the first had stopped transmitting and relaying data in March as it passed over the South Pole everyone thought it was just the usual inconvenience that came with having hardware circling the globe. Our company had been part of the conglomerate that had been using it and we were there in the first three days re-routing and bypassing the ‘missing’ satellite.

Although the business runs to the order of hundreds of billions of dollars there are less than three hundred people around the world that actually deal directly with the day to day running of all the communication satellites in earth’s orbit and Jenny and I are two of them. So we heard pretty quickly when the French lost a satellite at the beginning of May and the Japanese towards the end of that month. There were a few rumours circulating within the limited circle that it was ‘industrial espionage’ taken to the ‘nth’ degree but the entire world already was watching the skies with the weekly meteor showers which had provided some amazing fireworks especially about the equator.

If the two of us weren’t worried before, we were after the 15^th of June. A meteor of sufficient size made it through our atmosphere to ‘splash’ down just Pitcairn Island in the Pacific. All of the fifty or so inhabitants were killed. What worried both Jenny and I was the fact that the disaster had been attributed to a seismic event where we had heard within the hour from the Mauna Kea observatory (she’d already had suspicions and had nurtured our relationships with the stargazers) that it had been debris from space. Even the World Wide Web had bought the seismic event story so we knew that most if not all of the ‘Acronym’ agencies were using their might to quell anything other than the ‘Official’ version.

Still life went on and although no one was acknowledging the ‘threat from space’ we were all being paid handsomely to keep the ‘machine’ running. So two weeks ago myself and Jenny find ourselves in Washington putting out ‘brushfires’ and suggesting alternative remedies even though all those in those higher pay grades weren’t admitting there was a problem. It was easy to see by their faces that things were going to get worse before they got better. We were stuck between ‘a rock and a hard place’ as the only real alternative was to shut down major sections of the Internet and so reduce the amount of data being transmitted. The fact that ‘Web Traffic’ had been doubling every year for the past five years and didn’t show any signs of peaking was neither here nor there. “You’re only choice is to search out all the Porn sites and cut the fuckers off at source if you want the land-based systems to cope!” I stated finally after six hours of running around in ever decreasing circles.

We were ushered from the room shortly afterwards and retired to our hotel. Jenny didn’t reprimand me for my outburst as she knew it was the truth.

****

Six days ago.

We organised flights home to the UK for the following day. If only we had caught the ‘red-eye’ the previous evening!

Reuters sent the data-stream around the planet instantly before the CIA or the NSA or MI6 or the SVR could do anything about it. The International Space Station had sustained irreparable damage. Reading between the lines it sounded as if the Solar Array had been decimated by a meteor shower, the astronauts and cosmonauts aboard had survived but the station couldn’t support the five people on board for more than a week, two at the most, without the power from the Sun. Three hours later a large meteorite impacted fifty miles west of Sydney, Australia. Casualties were high. The ‘Cat’ was out of the bag!

The President of the United States announced the severity of the situation. A ‘rogue’ comet had entered the asteroid belt and had ‘knocked’ several asteroids into deteriorating orbits. Jenny and I had smiled at each other when he had used the term ‘rogue’, what it really meant was that it had been a previously uncharted comet and the budget for watching the skies was so small it would have been a chance in a thousand of spotting it earlier. It was a day for reading between the lines and both Jenny and I knew that several equated to hundreds if not thousands. The two of us being involved in the business of keeping artificial satellites in orbit around planet Earth knew that this meant a ‘shitload’ were still headed our way. Of course the smaller asteroids had provided the heavenly spectacles of the last few months and had been responsible for the three (we knew about) communication satellites being disabled if not destroyed.

Not that it’d really make that much difference unless we’d known about it years earlier. Jenny talked to her friend in Hawaii, not hundreds or thousands of meteors! A cloud was how he had described it and he could tell us that there were at least five or six sizable chunks of rock within it, none he reckoned by themselves capable of an Extinction Level Event but who knew what three or four of them in quick succession could achieve. With the huge number of asteroids of varying sizes and relative speeds with the entire spectrum of tumbling vectors it was impossible, even for the super computers at the NSA, to predict any impact scenario that was any better than the simple roll of the dice. “Actually, a roll of the dice is generous, it’s more like the flip of a coin” he stated before wishing Jenny all the luck in the world. She heard him curse the Mayans as he hung up.

Flights were cancelled except for official use only. Getting home to one’s families was above our pay-grade. Two days later they shut down the World Wide Web. It was a relief not to hear anymore ‘Doomsayers’ telling anyone who would listen “I told you so!”.

Yesterday I managed to talk to my wife, Liz (Jenny’s sister) just before the phone networks were shutdown. You couldn’t blame them, the world was being increasingly bombarded and with every impact civil unrest was growing.

****

6 hours ago.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m fine, Frank hopes to be here within thirty minutes” Liz answered. I let out a small sigh of relief glad that Jenny’s husband had gotten out of London and was headed to my home outside Salisbury.

“Is there any trouble in the town?”

“There was a little… but I don’t know if there is any now. Just official broadcasts… they’re keeping us in the dark!” Liz replied sounding anxious.

“They’re keeping everybody in the dark. Probably the best option… journalists have never had the ‘Public’s’ welfare at heart!” It was a weak response and I knew it but it was all I could think of with my wife the other side of the Atlantic. For the first time in my life I regretted not owning a firearm of any sort that could be there now to protect the woman I loved. To be honest I’d have probably shot myself at some point or the neighbours chickens. At least the Farmhouse (that didn’t have a farm) was better situated than I found myself with Liz’s sister.

We were on the fourteenth floor of the Washington Hilton Hotel with a view across the city. The hotel seemed to be pretty empty now, anybody within a reasonable distance had left to go home; even some those further afield had ventured out. Both Jenny and I had thought it prudent not to even try and when a riot had broken out at Dulles airport and over twenty people had been killed neither of us felt particularly clever or lucky. Most of the staff had left two or more days ago and those that were still here were holed up in the anonymous just like the two of us. We’d moved into one of the larger suites by the simple act of slipping across the empty concierge’s desk and taking the keycard. At the same time we had visited the vast kitchens and taken what we could before retreating upstairs. I’d grabbed all the local fire extinguishers and then set about the main door to the suite with the extra item I had brought up from the kitchens. Jenny hadn’t needed me to explain why I was charring the wood and the surround to our door with a small blow torch only ever used for Crème Brûlée previously I imagine. She stood beside me with one of the fire extinguishers just in case.

The next thing I did was to break into some of the nearby empty suites at random, do a little ransacking and provisional gathering before returning to our own. Finally I smashed the lock on our door and piled up the numerous mattresses I had gathered behind it wedging the door partially open. Jenny checked the tag on one of the mattresses and pointed out it was lucky that they were all fire retardant. I blushed slightly at this oversight on my part. Finally a large cupboard was upended and now we were secure at least from looters or worse.

Hopefully our efforts at camouflage would cause any roving parties to look elsewhere. I looked at the makeshift barricade as I talked to my wife and thought of our ‘desirable’ residence and how flimsy it all seemed now. “Have you seen the sky?” she asked through the crackling line. I turned about and looked up at the sky above Washington knowing that where I was looking into the fading light of evening she was watching the sun rise above the Downs above Salisbury.

I imagined hers was as such a sight to behold as was mine. “It’s something else here… there are bright trails of white and red and orange racing across it here, some of them ending in bright flashes… others just petering out…”

“Of course… I forget… I wanna forget you’re half a world away…” I heard a stifled sob through the crackles, “It’s like the Red Arrows have been… I don’t know… on steroids I suppose” I laughed quietly at the picture formed in my mind, “the sky itself is the brightest blue… but it’s criss-crossed with vapour trails… purples and dark blues… even some pink ones as well as evil looking black ones… I can’t think of a painter who could have ever imagined this…”

For a few seconds the line went dead and then I heard a voice again, “Jim! Jim are you still there?”

“I am my sweet, I am” I answered loudly although all I wanted to do was whisper softly.

“I need a promise from you, Jim” she stated “before we lose the line.”

“Anything and everything” I answered.

“You’re to take care of Liz…”

“Of course I will” I replied mystified.

“Oh Jim… I mean…” again there were more sobs and I felt my heart aching badly, “I mean take care of her… this is probably our last days on earth… and if-”

“Don’t talk like that… I’ll see you again” I’d been going to add that it was a promise but I knew better.

“Don’t lie, Jim… you were never any good at it…don’t start now” I could almost hear her smiling through the miles of wire, “You two are good for each other… I always wondered that you didn’t hook up with her before you met me… take care of each other… in every way!”

The tears were rolling down my cheeks as I stared at the incredible spectacle outside, I felt a faint tremble through the soles of my feet and wondered if a small meteorite had impacted nearby or a larger one further away. “And you’ll make the same promise, Liz?” If I’d ever been asked before or told that my wife was having an affair let alone with Frank, her brother-in-law, I’m sure I would have lost the plot completely, possibly even become violent, probably have walked away. The world had changed and in my soul I needed Liz to survive and I knew that survival was only half of the need. I needed her to be happy and safe.

She had remained silent on the other end of the phone and I feared the connection had been broken. Still I said the words that had formed in my head anyway, “I pronounce you Husband and Wife, Liz… and I do mean it, with all my love…” My answer came as I heard her crying down the phone although I wondered and hoped that there was a relief in those tears.

“And I you!” she replied between sobs, “Be safe, my love. I will-”

The line went dead, the monotone sound echoed with finality in my ear and then died in a stutter. I looked at the expensive satellite phone and watched as it searched hopelessly for another carrier signal. After three minutes of staring at it I dropped it onto the couch in front of me. Almost to the second the phone bounced on the cushion the bedside light, although set low, went out. Both of us gave involuntary yelps of surprise followed by a second one as the emergency lights kicked in, at least twenty times brighter than before. I looked out across the city and where most of the windows had been dark or had the tiniest glimmer of lights behind curtains now there was a sparkling random ‘star field’ before me. As if mankind was saying to the cosmos ‘look how bright we shone, a beautiful diamond in the void!”

I felt Liz brush against me and follow my gaze out through the window, “A terrible beauty…” she whispered. We stood there for over two hours as we watched the lights die a final time. Batteries struggled to power lights designed to help us escape but of course tonight there was nowhere to escape too!

****

Now!

We sat on the bed our arms wrapped around each other for comfort; in all honesty as much for mine as for Jenny’s. The light show continued above us, washes of purple and orange and red light flowing across the floor next to the window. I thought that the phantasmagoria of the dawn sky had done as much to quell the looters and rioters, if not more, than the police and the army with their Tear Gas, Baton rounds and eventually ‘Live’ ammunition had done. Still everyone had homes to go to and perhaps when all is said and done there isn’t much point in stealing a 50” TV if there isn’t any electricity or channels to make it work.

 I stroked the thick luscious hair of the head that was resting on my shoulder, easing it around the shell of her ear wondering if this was our last day on earth. I felt a nail scratch through my shirt between the buttons and the whispered words, “That’s nice…” followed by a soft purr. I back stiffened slightly as I remembered this was my sister-in-law and not my wife but only for a brief hiatus did I stop stroking her long hair. “Jim…?” came the next whisper.

“Yes, Jenny?” I whispered back.

I could feel her bosom rising and falling against the side of my chest and even though I’d seen her on a shared holiday in only the skimpiest of thongs I wondered what she looked like completely naked. I felt my loins stir and remembered the ‘promise’ I had made to her sister. Guilt rushed over me and I almost got up off the bed when she answered, “I know what Liz said…” I stayed silent totally at a loss as to how to answer. “The two of us talked about it after the flights were all cancelled…”

I couldn’t help but smile. Liz and Jenny had always shared a pragmatic nature and also seemed to share a similar taste in men. When we had been out socialising together strangers had often thought that Frank and I were brothers whereas Liz with her tall stature, long red hair and Jenny being a lot sorter and brunette were rarely taken for sisters until people compared their faces. “I also talked to Frank… I gave him my blessing.”

“I…” I bit my tongue as I felt the rashness of jealousy rise within me.

“He said something similar…” Liz unfolded herself from my embrace and sat beside me looking me straight in the eyes. “He vowed that he wouldn’t agree to it unless you did” her steel blue eyes gleamed as they searched my own in the brightening morning light and I wondered if she was close to tears. “Did you?” she said after looking down at her crossed legs.

The surge of jealousy seemed to dissipate as the sun breached the crest of the building across the street. “I… I did” I admitted.

“I’m glad” she whispered at her legs.

That first kiss seemed almost alien, our social restrictions still fighting our need for comfort. And love. Only as another tremor shook the building and dust motes descended haphazardly in the still air did our passions overcome our reticence. We gradually undressed one another and I have to admit that it was the tenderest love-making I had ever been a party to. Tears streaked both of our cheeks as Liz lowered herself onto my erection and when we came, we came together. And the earth moved with us once again.

****

The next day…

The world didn’t end that day. Or the next! It changed but it struggled on. We spent almost a week in that hotel room and gradually the light show from the heavens diminished and eventually faded to nothing. We made love two or three or more times a day whenever the fear began to take hold.

The army reappeared on the streets and began collecting the remnants of society.

Those following months were every bit as bad, if not worse, than those days and nights beneath the ‘screaming sky’. The two of us remained together as ‘husband and wife’ through the squalor of the Relocation Camps and when bureaucracy reasserted itself and our skills highlighted we were assigned to the Rebuilding Program. Liz was pregnant and already entering her second trimester and if our living conditions hadn’t improved I doubt that she would have been able to carry the baby to term. I was ‘over the moon’ at the thought of becoming a father but I had seriously feared whether she herself would have survived the birth in our mutual weakened states.

As for the rest of the world there was very little information available even when we became integral to setting up new communication systems. London had been the only large population centre to be hit directly by a sizable chunk of space debris and very little information was forthcoming from the country formerly known as the UK. Very conservative estimates reckoned that as many as one in five of the World’s population had died during and in the following months after the ‘Rain of Fire’.

Adam was born to the two of us exactly ten months after our first night together. Both mother and son proved tougher than the world or the heavens could throw at them.

****

It was five years later before the three (soon to be four in four months) of us were allowed ‘home’. Home! It seemed almost an alien word considering how the world had changed.

The military machines across the world had taken their arsenals of WMD’s and thrown them up against the oncoming hailstorm of approaching asteroids and although they hadn’t destroyed a third of the oncoming destruction they might have just made the difference between annihilation and survival. Bruce Willis it wasn’t but none of the survivors were complaining. It’d be a good many years before any ‘Power’, be it First World or Third World would even think of having desirable thoughts on another’s territory.

 Politics and business were almost a thing of the past. Treating others as you would wish to be treated was the ‘common law’. Greed was despised and anyone caught ‘lining their own pockets’ to the detriment of others was severely punished. The USA had fractured somewhat, Texas and California had declared themselves independent and the rest of the country had simply said ‘go fuck yourselves. The ‘Land of the Free’ had suffered a sea change, it still upheld the rights of the individual but God help you if denied another person the Right to life. In some respects the bastion of democracy was almost a Communist state but it was the ‘Will of the People’ who decreed that everyone was truly equal and had the right to equal health and happiness.

Nature, it seemed, had decided to give humanity a break as well. The two major impacts that had occurred on London and at the southern end of the South American continent forming a brand new island archipelago had thrown enough debris into the atmosphere to create a mini-ice age. Although the winters were hard it seemed that in one ‘fell-swoop’ global warming had been put on hold.

****

There was no information regarding my wife or Liz’s husband available when we arrived at a military airport just outside of Oxford, the ‘new’ capital of the UK.

We arrived with a huge sense of trepidation in an Armoured Personnel Carrier at the Farmhouse. The lane leading down towards my formerly desirable residence had a huge crater in it filled with stagnant water that caused the APC a brief moment of trouble before it crested the other side. Adam hugged his mother tightly seeing and sensing the fear in both of his parents. We had decided between us not to tell him of the reason for our journey.

We stepped out into the bright sunshine of that April day to gaze on the weather worn exterior of my former home. It appeared to be abandoned, the windows were dark, boards that had been nailed across them hanging down untended and the steps to the front door rotted and collapsed. The sergeant who had driven the APC for us appeared through the hatch in the top of the vehicle lifting an automatic weapon into view. He seemed relaxed but his eyes continually scanned the area as both mine and Liz’s focused on the skeletal remains of a cow or horse that lay off to one side of the entrance.

Adam stood beside his mother his hand firmly clasped in hers as he wondered why his parents had brought him to this place. His eyes were also focused on the skeleton but with the curiosity of an innocent child rather than the dread of an adult. All of our focus had been on the Farmhouse and the skeleton and none of us had seen the small girl simply walk up behind us and take my son’s hand. “Hi, who are you?” she asked Adam with an innocence that simply melted your heart.

Liz and I looked at the young girl as Adam turned towards her. She had the same flowing brunette locks that her sister bore. Her eyes also seemed to be exact copies of Liz’s steel blue ones. We smiled at each other before returning our gaze to the young girl. “Are you friends of my mom and dad?” she asked.

Adam looked up at the two of us before releasing Liz’s hand and turning back to the girl, “I don’t know, maybe… My name’s Adam, what’s yours?”

“Jemima.”

The End

____________________________

Okay, Avid Readers.

How many of you thought Frank and Jenny’s child would be called Eve???

 And I hope you appreciate for once I didn’t adhere to my favourite maxim. Here’s to seeing you in 2013!

FtF

xx

So what happened next between Frank and Val? Well I guess you should read on if you want to find out…

As ever I hope you enjoy!

FtF

___________________

A week had passed since Val had discovered his erotic alter-ego. On the Monday, following the weekend spent with Gina, the two of them had sat down and had a very long talk. Val had spent the rest of the week reading all his risqué short stories including the erotic novel which was at his publishers waiting for approval.

During that week Val, despite her assurances during the ‘long talk’ had become somewhat withdrawn; Frank wondered if the weekend with Gina had been an aberration and if this might spell the end of their marriage. The bedroom had been quiet throughout the week; not unusual during the semester, but he sensed a ‘Sword of Damocles’ hanging over his head, as he sat up in bed, listening to her brushing her teeth in the en-suite. He wondered if the Friday or Saturday morning would be any different; the usual time of the week they tried to set aside during the semester for intimacy. That Friday night he had made no overtures, deciding to make a point not to brush the almost painful erection he was nursing against her when she got into bed. He had been sitting up wearing an old cotton shirt, unbuttoned, a pillow behind his back holding though not really reading a dime store paperback when Val had entered the room.

That night instead of climbing in on her side she had walked around the bed holding a battered old notebook he had never seen before and lifted the paperback from his hands, folding the corner of the page he was reading and placing it on the nightstand. She was wearing her long ‘bed’ T-shirt, normally worn from Sunday to Thursday, which fell to the middle of her thighs. She pulled back the covers spotting Frank’s hard-on and slipped in to sit between his legs. Frank turned off the bedside light, plunging the room into almost total darkness and wrapped his arms around his wife as his cock pressed against her lower back. She shifted slightly squashing his cock firmer between his abdomen and her back before pulling the covers up around them still holding the notebook tightly in her hands.

That night as they sat in the dark she told him a story.

It had been the first serious fantasy she had in those sexually tense days of her late teenage years.

…..

I’m at my riding school that I’d been going to for three years since I was fourteen and I’ve just returned from a long ride on a beautiful black stallion named Thor; I’m settling the horse into the stable, stripping it of its riding gear and washing it down. The horse has gotten an erection and I had stood and stared at the huge member dimly aware as of my virgin pussy moistening; it begins to show through my tight white jodhpurs. Tentatively I touch the damp patch, feeling an unfamiliar quiver run through me. It’s at this point the young muscled stable-hand, who I’d been watching secretly since he had taken a job there for the summer, interrupts me. He asks do I like what I’m seeing pointing at the horse’s formidable erection as he moves beside me.

I nod dumbly and he asks me if I would like to touch one. I’m shocked thinking that he means the horse’s huge cock and turn to face the him indignant when he grasps my hand in his rough calloused fingers and presses my palm to his crotch. I drop my eyes to look down at my hand squeezing the lump in the young man’s jeans and my pussy twitches powerfully, a flood of juices gushing from my tight slit to soak and stain my  crotch. The stable-hand doesn’t miss the effect his steel-hard cock has had on me and then leads me to the ladder up to the hayloft. He helps/pushes me up the wooden ladder, his work-worn hand between my legs massaging my wet quim through the tight material as I climb on shaky legs.

Franks hands lay folded across Val’s cotton covered abdomen, occasionally twitching as they wanted to move lower. Val had paused for a moment in her recall, laying the mysterious notebook on the bedside cabinet on top of Franks’ paperback and had slipped her fingers through his and guided them beneath the T-shirt to rest on her flesh. His cock twitched against her as he felt the slight stubble growing just above her slit beneath his fingers. Her entwined fingers slowly and lightly massaged his into her flesh as she moved her back minutely from side to side, rolling his cock between them.

She breathed deeply and continued.

The stable-hand almost lifts me over the last couple of rungs into the loft, my juices soaking through my jodhpurs onto his fingers. He quickly follows me onto the hay strewn floor guiding me forwards to a heap of bails. His fingers press the wet material in between my spreading pussy lips. I put my hands out and grasp the prickly bales, my feet spreading allowing him easier access to my burning crotch. He stands behind me, the toes of his boots between mine nudging them even further apart as he runs his finger up and down my slit making me gasp.

Brand new sensations flood my young body as wave after wave of heat seems to flow through my body from my pulsing quim. My breath comes in heaving rasps and my heart pounds in my ears as the feeling intensifies. I’m all the more shocked when the stable-hands’ fingers disappear from my wet lips. I make to rise but I’m stopped by his warm sticky hand slipping beneath my blouse and pressing down on the small of my back. I lower my head and looked back through my spread legs to see him drop to his knees. I groan loudly as I feel his mouth cover my mound, his tongue pressing against my slit, lapping at my juices through the tight damp material.

“I was fifteen, I think when I first had this fantasy; I’d dream what his tongue would do to me as I fingered myself to sleep at night” Val added as she helped push one of Frank’s fingers in between her wet lips. His cock ached against the base of her spine as he felt the heat of her juices.

His tongue slowly traces my lips; up and down it goes pressing the soaking material of my jodhpurs further into my pussy. My legs shiver as I push my ass out and up; my face pressed into the bale as my pussy seems to explode. My knuckles are in my mouth, muffling my scream as I have my first ever orgasm. I’m actually crying as I feel his unshaven chin scratch over my clit. I believe there can be no more and then he pulls my jodhpurs down roughly; the chill air of the hayloft assaults my bare backside (“In the fantasy I don’t even consider the idea of wearing panties” Val adds) and then I feel his hot intruding tongue snake deep into my gushing snatch.

His rough strong hands grasp my ass cheeks as he darts his tongue in and out of my wet hole, my pussy spasms about it as my orgasm crescendos again. The world swims about me as I collapse against the bales, the sharp points of straw scratching my face and my chest through my blouse. My nipples are painfully hard as my knees give way and my pulsating quim drops away from that talented tongue. I gasp and wheeze in the dusty atmosphere of the loft.

It seems to take hours for me to regain any composure; I lift my head and look up at the stable-hand standing above me. My jaw drops open, he is standing there naked; stroking his large hard cock (“Of course it is my fantasy and it is very thick and at least nine inches long” says Val to Frank smiling over her shoulder as she reaches behind her to run her nails up along his erection), he’s rolling his foreskin back and forth, the glans glistening as he looks down upon me with a predatory smile.

Val removes her finger from her pussy leaving Frank’s there, curled up inside her and throws the bedclothes to the floor. In one swift movement she hoists her t-shirt over her head to join the heap on the floor. Pausing momentarily, squeezing her cunt muscles about Frank’s finger; she savoured the sensations. A small purr escapes her lips and then she pulls his wet finger from her crotch and sucks on it softly. Frank reaches for his member, giving it a squeeze as his wife feeds his finger deeper into her mouth.

Val finishes licking her juices and drops his hand to turn about, straddling Frank’s thighs; not quite happy she grabs him beneath the knees and with his assistance shuffles him down the bed till he is lying flat on his back. Looking into his eyes she wraps her slender fingers about his manhood and slowly runs her hand up and down his length as her left hand snakes its way between her thighs and slipped two fingers into her wet quim.

“Where was I?” she asked.

Frank smiles for a moment watching the pre-cum appear from the eye of his cock, “I… err… think you had a large cock… mmmm…. in your sights…”

Val closes her eyes moaning a little as she rubs her thumb across the tip of Frank’s hard-on. I’m knelt in front of this sweaty Adonis with his cock in his hand; I’d never seen a cock before; ‘were they all this big?’ I wondered. I’m unaware that I’m licking my lips when his large calloused hands pull the tie-back from my hair and wrap themselves through my freed tresses. I gasp as he pulls me upwards and he thrusts the monster into my open mouth. I gag as the large head bangs into the roof of my mouth, coughing and spluttering about his manhood I hear the second sentence from his mouth.

“Suck it!” he says with an authority I dare not question.

I look up into his dark eyes, pleading with my own but I see no mercy. Breathing through my nose I timidly touch the head with the tip of my tongue. My first taste of cock, it’s salty and I’m unsure if I like it at first but with each stroke of my tongue I feel my desire for this flavour grow. He pulls back and forth on his shaft, rolling his foreskin; my tongue slides beneath it and I begin to swallow the pearls of nectar that’s oozing from it. “I was unbelievably prosaic as a teenager” Val adds. Almost without thought I reach up and wrap my hands about his, encouraging him to pump his cock harder and faster into my now willing mouth.

He slips his hand from under mine and it joins his other fist in my hair as he starts to move his hips to and fro. I slide my mouth further and further down the length of his erection, beginning to suck on it as I do. I have no idea if I this is what he wants but his hip movements increase their tempo so I suck harder. He groans aloud as the head of his cock hits the back of my throat, I gag again as my lips press down into his pubic hair and I slip my hands around his hips to grasp his ass.

He grunts and pulls his cock out of my mouth. I try to pull him back in, my long fingernails digging into the flesh of his ass but he is so much stronger than me. His hands grab my wrists and pull my arms apart and back so I am forced to fall back onto the straw bale. I struggle vainly, wanting to wrap my mouth about that cock… wanting to wrap my mouth about any cock I realise. The straw spikes the flesh of my ass as he looks down at my riding trousers wrapped in tangles about my boots. For a moment he thinks about releasing my hands but instead steps between my legs.

He grasps both of my wrists in one hand and reaches down lifting up my left knee. His stiff member stands out as my legs raise, bound together by my jodhpurs; I realise that my virgin pussy is getting nearer to that monster cock. I struggle futilely all the more as I realise what he intends. ’He’s going to fuck me” I think. I’m scared but I want him to; I want this beast to rip my maidenhood, I want him to make me a woman, but surely it’s too big; he’ll rip me apart. I twist in his grip as the head of his cock nears the damp wisps of my bush.

Val pumps Frank’s cock harder as her fingers slide rapidly in and out of her pussy; her breathing is laboured as she struggles to continue the story.

“Fuck me!” I hear myself say and I realise I want it. I want it so bad I scream “FUCK ME!”

He releases my wrists and grasps my other thigh, he stares at my tight pure quim; he’s licking his lips as I feel his cock push my lips apart.

 Val raises her hips and slowly guides Frank’s cock into the wet opening of her pussy.

The horses beneath us are neighing wildly as I shout “FUCK ME NOW YOU BASTARD!!!” He slams into me, a brief moment of pain flashes across my mind before he fills me. The world explodes…

 Val releases Frank’s member, dropping down hard onto it. Frank gasps as he feels the heat and wetness of his lover’s pussy as it instantly convulses about him. Val hasn’t even started to rise when Frank feels his seed shoot up into his wife’s cunt. He grabs her hips and bucks his own up as Val’s fingernails dig into his chest. Both of them shake and quiver as their orgasms rack through them.

Some minutes later when they have both recovered Val lifts her head from Frank’s chest, “Pre-mature ejaculation?” she says raising an eyebrow.

“Speak for yourself! Anyway after that story that wasn’t pre-mature… you’re lucky I hadn’t sprayed all over your chest!”

Val smiles, “Maybe later…?”

“You got anymore stories?”Frank asks hopefully.

Val drags one of her long fingernails along Frank’s soft cock, “oh…one or two in there I think… ” she says her eyes flicking to the old notebook on the bedside cabinet.

“I’ve always liked bed-time stories…”

__________________________

Well, Avid Reader, i hope you did enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I found another picture which I was going to insert into the story but it featured an animal… so here it is anyway!

FtF

Okay, hands (sticky hopefully) up who likes rough hands?

Well I hope you all have a happy and horny Christmas and just to get you in the festive mood here’s a little something I just wrote…

Enjoy!

FtF

___________________________

Santa Visits Bad Girls Too

Mary walked through the shopping mall idly gazing into all the shops windows with their festive displays. Tinsel and fairy lights were strung across the wide walkway and small Christmas Trees flashed and twinkled every twenty yards or so. She thought to herself that she would never get use to the hot season here in Brisbane. Strolling about in bright sunshine wearing just a pink halter top, tight white shorts and sandals on the 24^th of December just seemed wrong. Billy wouldn’t be complaining though as the season of goodwill brought extra employment. She laughed to herself, gaining accusatory looks from ‘late-present’ shoppers, as she thought of her twenty-four year old boyfriend dressed up as Santa in the grotto at the centre of the mall.

She slowed as she passed an erotic boutique looking at the hot red basque with black piping displayed on a mannequin behind the plate glass with red tinsel draped around its plastic neck. The doors slid open in response to the small sensor above them inviting her inside and she turned into the shop on a whim. The store was brightly lit and the front section dealt mainly with clothing and underwear. To the rear she spied the ‘marital aids’ section with toys of all shapes and sizes and colours sitting neatly in regimented rows upon the numerous shelves.

Her pussy moistened perceptively at the thought of buying a new toy for it. The basque had caught her attention so she dallied in the front half of the shop. She slowly walked down each aisle examining the various erotic clothing on display. She lifted a latex Nun’s outfit from its hook and smiled to herself as she remembered her school days in a convent school.

“Not authentically exact to be honest” a female voice from behind her said.

Mary turned to see one of the shop assistants standing behind her. “No it isn’t… Sister Josephine would have had a fit if she’d had to wear this! My entire class would have had a fit if she had!” Mary replied.

“A convent girl as well?” answered the young woman. She was very pretty with auburn hair and at least five studs in the exposed ear that Mary could see. She was dressed like any shop assistant in any shop in the mall, a smart navy skirt and matching jacket with a white blouse beneath. Mary grinned as she threw away the unwarranted stereotype of Sex Shop employees all being dominatrix’s.

“Born and beaten” replied Mary. The shop assistant, Angela or so her name tag says, blushed slightly and another stereotype was dismantled in Mary’s head.

“Anything in particular you are looking for?” she asks pleasantly.

“Well the red basque in the window caught my eye” answered Mary. She couldn’t help but clench her pussy lips together as the assistant looked her up and down gauging her size.

“I’ll be right back” she pointed her thumb over her shoulder, “The changing rooms are over there, if you want to try it on I’ll bring out your size for you.”

“Thank you, that’d be great” she watched ‘Angela’ walk away and even though Mary never had any desires for women she appreciated the shape of the young woman’s ass in the navy skirt. She was keenly aware however that her pussy was damp and getting damper and she knew if she didn’t get the basque her nether regions wouldn’t allow her to leave the shop without a new toy. She wondered if Billy would be having a lunch break and maybe he’d like something fresh to eat. She felt a further surge of moisture at the thought. She made her way through the aisles towards the changing rooms glancing at the various displays of erotic lingerie as she passed.

Her eyes kept wandering to the back of the store at the vibrators and dildos all line up on the shelving, all shapes, colours, textures and sizes. She was busy chewing her bottom lip imagining being alone in the shop and slowly going along trying each of the toys in turn wondering how it would feel to stretch her pussy with some of the ‘monsters’ on display. She jumped out of her skin as Angela walked up behind her holding the red basque she had asked about. “Here you are, Miss” she said politely before she looked up at Mary.

“Fuck” Mary said startled.

“Oh I’m sorry Miss… I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

Mary’s chest heaved as she fought to retain her composure, “Not your fault… I was miles away…”

Angela smiled understandingly, “Don’t worry Miss, it happens more often than you think…” the assistant twisted her head to look at the toys at the rear of the shop, “After working here for a couple of weeks… you sought of grow immune to the… merchandise.” As she turned back Mary saw a blush rise on her cheeks, “Definitely wasn’t the case for those first few days… Miss” finished Angela as she remembered her professionalism.

She handed Mary the underwear and a matching pair of briefs to go with the basque, “The top has suspenders that can be attached so if you choose the outfit I’d wear stockings as well to get the full effect…” added the shop assistant helpfully.

Mary smiled back as innocently as she could taking the proffered items and stepped into the spacious changing cubicle drawing the curtain behind her and placed the underwear on the small bench fastened to one wall. She pulled off her halter top over her head and hung it on a coat hook and then removed her white bra. She stifled a moan as she rubbed her full breasts where the underwire had been pinching a little. Her fingers twitched as her nipples ached to be squeezed but she managed to resist as she lifted the basque and slipped her arms through the shoulder straps. Reaching behind her she began to clip it up the back till she was halfway up and adjusted her breasts within the cups.

If she thought she’d been damp before her panties were getting wetter by the minute as she looked at her reflection in the full length mirror. The suspenders hung down uselessly over her shorts and her stomach was cinched tightly within the lower clips. Her nipples hard and sensitive peeked over the top of the cups rubbing sensually along the satin as she turned first one way and then the other. She reached behind her once again and began to struggle with the higher clips. The top two proved frustratingly awkward before she quit trying and just enjoyed the view of herself in the mirror. She picked up the skimpy panties and held them in place in front of her shorts and imagined her slim legs dressed in dark stockings. She rubbed her thighs together creating a little friction between her labia and felt her clit tingle with the faintest of sparks.

A knuckle rapped on the wooden frame of the cubicle and Angela’s voice sounded through the curtain, “Do you need any help, Miss?”

“Oh… I…” Mary hesitated and watched as the curtain was pulled back halfway and the assistant stepped in without waiting for an answer. In the moment the inside of the cubicle had been in view she had seen a man with his partner look up and across the tops of two aisles to take in her reflection in the mirror. The curtain closed and Mary’s quim gave a little jolt at the accidental exhibitionism. Angela being so close was something of a turn-on for Mary but the thought that she might be inspiring a cock to swell and harden was what did it for her. She could almost smell her sweet juices as her own underwear became thoroughly soaked.

“Here let me help you” said the assistant and she felt the young woman’s warm fingers brush across the exposed flesh of her back above the basque and finally close the remaining clips. Angela looked over Mary’s shoulder at her reflection in the glass as the customer held the skimpy red knickers with a black panel of lace rising to form in a ‘V’ from beneath. “I’m sorry…” Angela hesitated, “but the store does operate a very strict policy concerning panties in particular.”

Mary glanced up at the dark brown eyes of the assistant, “What’s that then?” she breathed already sure what it was. She watched as the hint of the young woman’s tongue appeared between her red lips.

“If you try them on the store… you have to purchase them, the same for stockings as well…” Angela’s eyes dropped slowly down the customer’s body imagining and hoping that she would get to see her in the full outfit. She was generally ‘straight’ in actuality and had never gone further than kissing another girl some years earlier at convent school mainly because of the lack of boys than for any other reason. She did occasionally fantasise about women and their soft curvy bodies and had described to her current beau the sorts of things that she would like done to her but that had been as far as it went. Since starting work at a Sex Shop those types of thoughts had risen easier and more often than before and she knew full well that a little innocent ‘flirting’ had indeed increased her wages with large amounts of commission.

Angela could tell, almost smell, how turned on this customer was and if she didn’t leave with at least £100 of goods she’d be surprised. Angela also knew that she was quite turned on herself and knew that whatever happened she would have to take a ‘time-out’ in the toilets sooner rather than later. It was ‘crunch time’ and if the woman opted for trying on the full outfit Angela knew her commission target would be met for this week. “I think if you could find me a pair of stockings… red fishnet I think…” asked Mary.

“Certainly Miss” said the assistant with a lustful smile and she stepped out of the cubicle. Mary’s eyes caught the male voyeurs for just a moment as the curtain was pulled close once again. A further surge of pussy cream dampened her knickers still further. She was definitely buying the outfit so she quickly pulled off her shorts and began to pull down her panties feeling them adhering to her slit with her juices before she slipped them off and lifted them to her nose breathing in her own scent before dropping them on top of her shorts. She ripped the plastic around the fresh underwear and slid them up her shins till they reached her knees. She looked at the mirror gazing at her cleavage on full display above the basque as she was bent over. She inhaled deeply and stayed motionless and waited for the dark-eyed assistant to return.

“Slut” Mary whispered to the mirror.

Just as Mary felt a single thick viscous drop of her pussy juice began to run down the inside of her thigh she heard Mary’s knock on the edge of the cubicle. The curtain swished open and for a split second she waited before slowly pulling the panties up into place. Angela stood there immobile as she watched the ass before her and the wet slit on visible beneath disappear from view. It was only as Mary stood upright was Angela shaken from her stasis. She pulled the curtain closed and began to breathe once again. She was looking at Mary’s eyes but her gaze was looking at the mirror and the small gap that remained between the material and the wooden frame

Mary’s admirer was now standing an aisle closer as his wife/girlfriend was holding up a pale gossamer-like set of bra and panties. She could see him saying something to her and watched as she smiled and pressed herself back against him. She imagined his hands were upon her ass while his eyes devoured her. she turned about and smiled at Angela before reaching passed her to close the curtain the last couple of inches. Her chest pressed firmly against the assistant’s shoulder and she almost bit her lip as a tiny static charge earthed between them. Angela gave out a little gasp at the tiny electric shock.

“Ahh… stockings too!” grinned Mary broadly and took the pack from Angela’s hand. Ripping open the packet quickly she lifted one leg up onto the bench and began to unfurl a leg of the red fishnet material. The younger woman watched intently as the customer rolled the red stockings up her leg. The sort of stocking that a prostitute would wear with such abandonment she thought to herself, a whore’s stockings! She was amazed at the sea-change that had come over the woman almost from the instant she had opened the curtain to see her standing there in the basque and her shorts. She envied the woman and wished that she herself could lose herself as completely as this woman had.

The young shop assistant had given up on the idea of a ‘quick frig’ in the toilets as soon as she could and figured that the only thing that could satisfy her was cock, good hard cock. She was ‘resting’ as her and her girlfriends euphemistically put it between boyfriends but desperate times called for desperate measures. Danny, one of the security guards that she quite fancied, was on duty in the mall and with almost certainty she knew that he would think Christmas had come early this year within an hour or two. Mary was fastening the final suspender on the second stocking when Angela finally spoke, “Excuse me Miss, but…”

Mary looked at the assistant and smiling raised a questioning eyebrow. It was her turn to remain frozen as the younger woman hitched her skirt up and knelt on the floor beside her feet. “If you don’t mind…” she asked and Mary felt herself shaking her head. As soon as the soft fingers touched the skin of her thigh new shocks reverberated through her body that had nothing to do with positive and negative ions. She watched as the assistant unclipped the suspender from the back of her thigh and laced it beneath the new panties. A surge of juice flooded from her pulsing quim instantly soaking the material. Three more surge followed as each of the suspenders was adjusted. She knew that her juices were running down the inside of her thighs and knew that the young woman’s face was only inches from her slickened flesh and without a doubt could smell her intense musky aroma.

Angela’s eyes were riveted as she watched the brand new pair of knickers darken with the flow of fluid from the woman’s crotch. She could even make out her labia beneath the material, spread wide as the satin pulled into her most intimate crevice. She also knew that her own nether regions were just as inflamed and wet; the white cotton panties she had donned that morning were thoroughly soaked. Her nipples were as hard as steel and aching to be touched and stretched and bitten. “I need cock” she whispered before she realised that the thought had been said aloud. She looked up at the older woman with a startled expression.

“You and me, both, girl!” was the reply. Mary had gone far beyond the point of reason and sat down on the bench, “I’m sorry… but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do!” she simply stated and spread her legs wide pulling the new underwear to one side and simply shoving two fingers deep inside her pussy. The thought of asking the shop assistant to leave didn’t even cross her mind and she only just had the sense to stuff her knuckles into her mouth to stifle her moans.

Angela sat back on her haunches and stared at the woman as she began to finger-fuck herself hard and fast. Before the woman’s first orgasm racked her slim frame Angela’s fingers were also buried inside her own pussy and she was quickly nearing her own point of satisfaction

****

Mary left the shop almost forty minutes later having spent far more than she had intended to spend during the entire day and having had three mind-blowing orgasms while watched by the young shop assistant. She figured if they had been somewhere more private and without fear of being disturbed she would have enjoyed her first ever same-sex encounter. As it was the intensity and the rush of orgasms had sated her for the moment. She hoped the young woman wasn’t going to get into trouble when she saw the look she got off the store manager which was somewhat allayed when Mary handed over her credit card. “Well, Happy Christmas, Mary…” smiled Angela at the till, “I guess it’ll come early this year!” she added with a conspiratorial wink.

“Oh it will… and so will Santa!” Mary replied with a mischievous look.

She had been satisfied but she still needed cock and Billy wasn’t very far away. The man who had been sneaking looks at her while she was in the cubicle had gone by the time she had exited which was probably just as well. Having just masturbated in front of a stranger, and a female at that, the looks she got of various passers-by didn’t faze her in the slightest. She was still wearing the new (if slightly soiled) underwear with a pair of ‘cum-fuck-me’ heels albeit beneath a shiny black plastic mac which was long enough to reach down to the tops of her thighs.

She knew she looked like a whore and she felt like one as she went in search of Santa. She was fortunate that the queue outside the grotto just consisted of one family. The look she got from the husband was pure lust that was quickly covered up when the look of pure hatred appeared on the wife’s face. The two children had looks of innocent curiosity which went unanswered when they saw their parents’ reaction to the strangely dressed lady behind them.

****

“Ho, Ho, Ho!” came a booming voice as she approached the figure with the fake white beard and red suit, “and what can I do for you?” he asked before he looked up.

“Oh Santa… I’ve been a bad girl!” she answered in a girly voice as she unbuckled the mac in front of him, “Do ‘Bad’ girl’s get anything at Christmas?” she asked.

Santa looked up and simply stared from beneath his hat. “I… I…” he stammered.

“I guess I’ll just take what I want!” she dropped to her knees and almost ripped his suit apart quickly followed by pulling down the shorts and jockeys beneath. Billy’s cock swelled rapidly in her mouth as she sucked on it hard. She was vaguely aware that she had never sucked hic cock before when it was soft and was grinning around his girth as the ‘state’ didn’t last very long. He seemed bigger than she had ever known him before and was astride his lap with the new panties pulled to one side and his erection all the way into her sopping slit in less than a minute. She climaxed almost instantly as the head of his manhood hit the top of her soaking hole and ground down hard again and again as wave after wave of pleasure radiated out from her centre.

“Fill me Santa, fill me up” she pleaded as the fake St Nicholas grunted beneath her. he felt his strong fingers dig into her hips as he bounced violently on the chair. The model of Rudolph stood beside him, with his flashing red nose, threatening to fall over with the vibrating echoes of their actions.

“Ohhhh….fuck…” grunted Santa.

“Ohh… fuck yessss…” moaned Mary.

As her breathing returned to normal Mary simply lifted herself off Billy’s softening cock, she slipped a finger along her quivering slit and scooped a finger of their combined juices quickly into her mouth. “Mmmm…” she murmured, “You hurry home now Billy or I’ll have to just grab a stranger off the street” she lifted the plain black plastic bag that Santa hadn’t noticed; “… and I bought a whole load of… interesting items as well to play with!” She looked into the bag and pulled out a small white oval object and handed it to the stunned Santa. “I know you always like to have the remote… here’s one I’ll enjoy you having as well… it’s got a range of a hundred yards so I’ll know your coming when I’m ‘cumming’!”

She buckled up her belt and turned swiftly on her heels and headed out of the grotto. Santa looked at the retreating figure and repeated “Oh fuck!”

****

Mary let herself into Billy’s flat and hurried as quickly up the stairs as her heels would allow her. She had thought that she would wait for Billy’s return in a couple of hours before she gave in to her carnal desires but her will had faded the closer to his bed she got. She threw open the door and stepped into the bedroom. “What the fuck?” she almost screamed as she saw her boyfriend lying on the bed with a bandage around his forearm.

“Huh?” answered Billy.

****

Angela found Danny in the security rest room. After Mary had left the shop she had gotten an ear bashing from the store manager. It wasn’t the worst as Mary had indeed spent almost £200 and the manager, a man, had an obvious erection from the strong suspicion of what might have gone on in the changing cubicle which he was finding extremely distracting. If he wasn’t such a ‘twat’ she might’ve fucked him but she did have some standards.

A crumpled Santa outfit lay on the seat beside Danny. Angela didn’t feel like prevaricating so simply said “Fancy a fuck, Danny?” A look of bewilderment appeared on Danny’s face which threw her for a moment so she simply said “Yes or no?”

Danny nodded dumbly and Angela after turning the key in the lock of the door crossed the distance between them dropping to her knees between his legs. Danny looked on amazed as his shorts and jockeys were lowered for the second time in less than an hour. His cock had been at ‘half-mast’ from the recollections of the grotto and he watched as Angela’s lips slipped over the head. She had only just begun to suck on him when she lifted her head up and looked at him with a look of consternation. “I thought you were single Danny?” she asked.

He couldn’t hide the look of nervousness at possible rejection, “I was… I … err… I am… is it…” he stammered, “I don’t know…”

The young woman looked up at him, her fingers still wrapped around the base of his still hardening cock and glanced at the discarded suit before looking back at him and smiling, “Red basque with black piping, matching panties and fishnet stockings?” she asked.

“Yes…” he answered dumbfounded, “How’d you know?”

“So that’s what her pussy tastes like…” she grinned.

Danny nodded and then pulled the small oval object from within his shirt pocket, “…and this?”

Angela’s smile softened, “Oh Mary will be disappointed… now, where were we Santa?” Danny groaned as Angela’s mouth descended once again onto his erection sliding all the way down till her lips met his pubic hair.

“Oh god I love Christmas…” whispered the security guard/stand-in Santa.

The End