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From: Clem Kadiddlehopper <manco6204@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Planet Pauline, Part Two (MF cons rom scifi)
Date: Mon,  8 Jul 2002 16:10:04 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Pauline2.txt" begin>

Planet Pauline, Part Two (MF cons rom scifi)



Chapter 12   


   Pauline followed him, staying by his side, her eyes trying to avoid his
waggling penis as they walked.  He gave her a brief rundown on his
history before and after coming to the planet, the long years of work
building the house on the bluff and his explorations in the boat.  Mostly
she was silent, added a "you don't say" every now and then.  He wasn't
sure how much of it she believed yet.  

   "We have to walk up through the jungle here to get around the point,
don't worry about the crabs," he said.

   "What else lives in the trees, I didn't see anything."

   "The crabs are it, several different kinds.  The life here is very
primitive, no animals, no birds and no fish, not with bones."

   "You said you built a boat, not from these trees surely?" she asked. 
"From what I saw they can barely keep themselves upright."

   "You noticed that?  They're more like large ferns than trees.  I made
the boat from wood I salvaged from the house, I'll show it to you later
today.  We have plenty of time, it's just noon, about nine hours from
sunset.  It will be weird at first for you."

   "Where were you going when you found me?"

   "I was looking for you, I saw your footprints in the jungle over the
hill.  I figured you'd end up at the sea.  Come to think of it, I found
this."  He brought her bonnet out of his pack and held it out to her.

   "It was too hot to wear it, keep it for me for now, I don't have
anything to carry it in."

   He walked up a steep section and paused while she caught up.  

   "What did you do in Tipton Iowa?" he asked.

   "Worked on the farm, that's all."

   "You lived with your folks?  How old are you?"

   "My parents are dead, I live with my aunt, I'm eighteen," she replied. 
"I've been to school you know, I can read."

   "Well, that's a good thing," he replied.  He didn't feel it necessary to
add that reading was a pretty basic skill in the twenty first century.  He
joked to himself, wondering what she would say if he asked whether she
was computer literate.

   "I'm not just a dumb farm girl, if that's what you were thinking."

   "I wasn't thinking anything of the kind, I think you're quite bright. 
You're handling this well enough.  Some people your age might just run
around screaming for their mothers."

   Pauline looked down at the ground as they walked, and Steve kicked
himself for mentioning her mother.

   "Oh Christ Pauline, I'm sorry, that was stupid of me.  I'm sorry you
lost your family.  I've been alone so long I get used to saying whatever
I want, when I speak at all."

   "I wanted to get away, away from the farm.  Now . . ."

   He thought better of saying anything and let her alone for awhile. 
They were coming to the end of the jungle trail he had made over the
point, and the beach could be seen ahead.

   "Here we go," he said, "over to the left is where I do a lot of fishing. 
I don't have my gear or we'd stop and grab something for lunch."  He
could see a couple of large red crabs on the rocks, but they were too fast
to chase around without a net.

   Pauline turned to look down the bay as they walked out on the sand.

   "Oh my," she said, "it just like . . ."

   Steve turned and followed her gaze down to the bluff, the birches and
evergreens swaying in the breeze above the compound.  

   "Like what?"

   "Like . . . a dream," she replied, "like a dream."

   "It's quite a place, isn't it?  Wait until you see the garden, come on."

   He took her hand and led her to the wet sand where the walking was
easier, excitedly pointing out the sights, the fishing grounds off the
islands, the hills and peaks inland, the waves rolling across the bay.  He
was proud of his home, and was thrilled to be able to show it off.  He
lead her back up the beach and up the steps to the bluff, and they walked
together through the rose hedge and into the garden.

   "Oh my, it is beautiful, look at the roses.  I've never seen any of these,
what kind are they?"

   "You know roses?" he asked.

   "Only a few, but I love them.  I've always wanted roses."

   "Well, you've got them now.  I don't think you would know any of
these, for the most part they're English roses, bred after the war."

   "The war?" she asked.

   "Oh yeah, I forgot.  I meant the second world war."  He paused and
considered what to say.  "The first was fought in your decade, in Europe. 
I'm not sure why it was called a world war, so many countries involved
I guess.  Millions were killed.  I don't have many books on the wars, but
I can tell you about them, if you want."

   "Did we fight?" she asked, "I mean, America?"

   "Fought and won, became the leading power in the world.  By my time
no country was richer or stronger than the good old U.S of A."

   "Gosh."

   "Yeah, well never mind history, it doesn't mean much here.  Let's get
you something to eat.  Come on, I'll show you the house, this will knock
you out."

   "Sorry?"

   "Oh, slang from my time.  I meant you'll be impressed, I think."

   Pauline was more than impressed by the interior of the house. 
Running water was something she had seen in town, and the same with
electricity, but neither existed on farms of her day.  He tried to explain
the various pieces of equipment to her, but finally gave up, figuring it
was easy to show her later.  We'll watch a movie, he thought, but almost
laughed out loud when he remembered what the night was like here.  She
would be in for another shock in a few hours when the galaxy started to
appear above the eastern horizon.

   He mixed her a pod lemonade with ice, and set out some cold cooked
spiny lobster with leftover pod coconut cream and mild chiles.  He sat
down with her at the table, watching her eat and trying to make light
conversation.  He was nervous as a school boy on his first date, but
Pauline seemed to take it in stride, and no longer averted her eyes when
we walked around the kitchen.

   "Steve, where's the outhouse?"

   "Oh yeah, that will take some explaining I guess.  I'll have to show
you how it works, have you used a flush toilet?"

   "You mean a water closet?  I've used one before, in town.  There are
five of them in the hotel and two in city hall," she said with pride in her
voice.

   "Great, yeah, that's good.  Okay, well, follow me."

   It turned out Pauline's idea of a water closet didn't quite match up to
the gleaming white porcelain in the women's bath, and the discussion of
how to use the soft native paper caused her to blush.  Steve finally
showed her the bidet, and gave her a rough idea of what it was for
without getting too graphic.

   "Any questions?" he asked.

   Pauline shook her head, eyes down, embarrassed by these matters.

   "Okay, well when in doubt flush what's in the bowl before adding
more paper.  It shouldn't plug up, but if it does, you use this plunger, up
and down, you see?"

   "Yes."

   "Um yeah, well, why don't I leave you alone then.  I'm going to go
outside, get us a crab for lunch, so you'll have the house to yourself for
a few minutes, okay?"

   She nodded a reply, and he closed the door, leaving her to grapple
with the appliances on her own.  He was still nervous around her, and
slapped his head with his hands.  Take it easy old man, he thought, relax. 
You're not bedding her tonight or any other night for awhile, give it
some time.  He resolved not to push the girl into a sexual relationship
until she was comfortable with him, though his balls ached for release. 
All he could think about was the scene at the stream, Pauline naked in
the water, splashing water on her large round breasts.  

   He looked for a crab up the valley, keeping away from the windows
on the bathroom side of the house.  He noticed that she had been
sweating constantly all the way down the beach and even sitting at the
dining room table.  There was no way she could be comfortable in the
heavy dress she was wearing, and he noticed there was a slip and white
pants underneath.  Probably the first step to free the girl from her
inhibitions would be for her to ditch some of the clothes.  She didn't
have much choice in the matter, it was simply too warm without the trade
winds on the skin.

   He found a nice big crab just upstream from the dam pool, and after
flipping it over to make sure it was a male, he bashed it and climbed
down to the house to clean it.  When he turned around from the sink,
Pauline was sitting at the table, fully dressed and perspiring still, a little
humble from the bathroom experience.

   "Are you okay?" he asked.

   "Fine, it . . . I didn't have any problems."

   "Good, well you'll get used to it.  That bathroom is yours, mine is
through the other door.  Don't ask me why I built two, it's a long story."

   "Your going to eat that crab thing, you called it?"

   "Darn tootin', maam," he replied, putting on an old west accent that
made her laugh.  "You'll see."  

   He put a pot of water on the stove and left the crab to boil, joining her
again at the table.  

   "There are two showers outside, one by the side of the house, and one
down by a pool in the rock.  Of course you saw the tub when you came
in.  Feel free to use them, just let me know and I'll make myself scarce. 
I'm afraid I didn't design them for privacy."

   "Showers?" she asked.

   "Oh yeah, sorry.  It's a spray of water that comes down from a nozzle,
you stand underneath it to wash.  You'll like it, I'm sure."

   "The bath is huge, how do you heat the water for something like that?"
she said.

   "It's heated with electricity, there's a tank in the back of the house
filled with hot water. It comes out of the tap just like I showed you in
the bathroom."

   "I could use a bath.  How can I clean my clothes?"

   "You could wash them in the tub or the stream, that's how I clean the
linen."

   "Is it always this warm?"

   "Always, even most of the night."

   She brushed sweat from her forehead and looked away from him for
a few moments.  He got up to check the crab, which was done, and
cooled it off in the sink.  After it was cool enough, he cracked all the leg
and claw segments in advance, and brought the finished crab over to the
table.

   "Lunch is served, madam."

   Pauline looked at the broken up crab dubiously at first.  Steve smiled,
thinking that if he was served something that looked like a giant red
spider he might hesitate to dig in.  He served it with a plate of churned
pot cream, like soft butter, and she accepted a leg piece dripping with the
melted cream.  After the first bite she didn't hesitate at all, and was soon
cracking the shells to get at all the leftover bits of crab.  When they were
done there was nothing left but a bowl full of shells.

   "Looks like you enjoyed it," he said.

   "I've never had anything like it.  It's hard to imagine those things
could taste like this.  Where did the butter come from?  It tasted
different."

   Steve explained the pod trees to her, and showed her a few of the basic
types he had ripening in the kitchen.  She was particularly interested in
the one that could be dried for flour.  

   "Have you tried leaving some in water out in the air for a few days?"

   "No, why?"

   "That's how it rises, you make a starter mix and then use a little with
each batch."

   "It's worth a try, I didn't consider that.  There's no guarantee that this
planet has the right kind of microbes in the air."   

   That started a conversation to explain microbiology, a little better than
her schoolhouse education had provided, but she followed along well
enough.  She was still sweating, wiping her brow every few minutes.  He
felt sorry for her, but she would have to learn on her own that this was
a clothes optional planet.

   "Do you think I could take a bath now?" she asked. "I need to wash
my clothes, I'm afraid."

   "Of course.  I'll show you how to use the bath and the shower, and I'll
take off down the beach for dinner.  I'll yell before I come up the stairs
to make sure you're decent."

   "Thank you, you've been very kind."

   "It's been a rough day, eh?  I'm afraid the surprises are just starting. 
It will be dark in a few hours, and the night sky won't be what you
expect."

   "What do you mean?"

   "I think it's better you see for yourself.  Sleep after your bath if you
like, there's a bed outside and one in here.  Remember, the days are half
again as long as on earth, and it's already past your normal bed time I
would guess.  I'm overdue for sleep myself, so I may be back after dark.
Don't worry about being alone, there's nothing here that can harm you."

   "Yet you carry a gun, I see."

   "Just in case I'm wrong, it's become a habit.  Can you shoot?"

   "I can, but I've never used a pistol," she replied.

   "There's a revolver hanging by the door, you just point it and pull the
trigger.  Try not to use it on me if I come home after dark."


Chapter 13


   Steve filled a small cooler with ice and set off down to the beach,
deciding to fish beyond the west point today.  He thought back over the
day and felt such joy that he dropped to his knees and praised Landru for
bringing Pauline to him.  There was no question the machine existed, that
was beyond any doubt now.  And even if it didn't listen to him in the
conventional sense, it had read his thoughts, even down to hair color and
height.  And her breasts; oh, her breasts!  Steve was a confirmed breast
man, but had never experienced anything like Pauline's.  

   Pauline appeared to be a worthy companion, aside from her beauty. 
She had handled the day with aplomb, not getting overly emotional at the
situation she found herself in.  He remembered how forceful she had
been at their first meeting; there was some strength in the girl.  He
looked forward to sharing the world with her, and wondered how long it
would be before the barriers would fall, and they would be sharing the
bed as well.

   For now he went about his business, snaring some large shrimp in the
net and spearing a couple of red crabs.  He completed the catch by
pulling some scallop-like bivalves off the rock, slicing the large white
muscle off the shell and leaving the guts for the crabs.  When he was
finished cleaning the crabs and shrimp he put the catch on ice and laid
down on a shady stretch of sand to sleep.

   Steve had fallen into the habit of sleeping whenever he felt like it,
wherever he was.  Any shady place would do, even in the jungle.  The
coconut crabs always avoided going near him, and there was nothing in
the vegetation to irritate or scratch.  The whole valley had become his
bed, though his favorite place in the heat of the day was a sunny bit of
sand up the stream.  The mist from the waterfall he had created drifted
into the cut where the stream met the beach, cooling the skin just enough
to be comfortable in the mild sunlight. 

   He woke up after twilight, the glow from the white sun fading off to
the west, the galaxy already risen in the east.  Picking up the cooler, her
hurried back to the house, afraid he had been gone too long.  He splashed
through his home stream and ran around the bluff, calling to her as he
climbed the stairs.  There was no reply, and he panicked for a second
until he saw her clothes, the dress, slip and pantaloons spread out on the
patio where she had left them to dry.

   The outside bed was empty, so he walked up to the house.  The front
door was closed, which struck him as humorous.  He hardly ever closed
it, there was no need.  He knocked on the door and called out her name,
and then knocked again, a little louder.

   "Just a minute, I'm not dressed."

   "I can see that," he replied, "your clothes look dry, do you want me to
put them inside for you?"

   "Please, thank you."

   He picked them up and shook a little windblown sand off, pushed open
the door and piled the clothes on the floor.  "Call me when you're
ready."

   "I'll go in the bathroom."

   He waited until he heard the bathroom door close and stepped inside,
switching on a few lights.  He was working in the kitchen when she
came out, cleaning some chiles and scooping out a pod for a sauce. 
Pauline had tied her hair in a bun, and was still wearing all her clothes,
with the exception of the waterlogged boots on the patio.  He didn't think
she would ever wear them again. 

   "Sorry I woke you up, I should have let you sleep," he said.

   "It's strange, I feel like I slept all night, but it's still light out."

   "You'll get used to that, and it's never really dark here.  Let's go
outside, I have something to show you."

   Pauline gasped as he led her outside.  He had forgotten how amazing
the sky looked compared to the drab nights of earth.  The galaxy was
riding high, two large arms visible now, and there were scores of brightly
colored nebulae and clusters.  The tiny moon was nowhere to be seen
tonight.  It was so small he usually lost track of its comings and goings.

   They walked around the patio, craning their necks up to the sky as he
pointed out the various features and described how the sky would change
as the night passed.  Pauline was clearly overwhelmed by the spectacle,
and didn't have much to say.  He looked over at her as she stared up, and
noticed she was already sweating again, half moons of perspiration
appearing through the dress.  He started to say something, but held his
tongue; better for her to make the decision.

   "Are you hungry?  Let's go in and I'll cook you some dinner."

   "Alright.  Can we look at the sky some more later?" she asked.

   "Plenty of time for that.  In a few hours the center of the galaxy will
be up.  It's bright enough to cast a shadow. Come on, I'll show you some
pictures of this world while I cook."

   He sat Pauline down at a desk off the dining room and booted up the
computer.  There wasn't much to do with it anymore, though it was the
main source of music, a few billion bytes of MP3 files, thankfully
archived.  He showed her how to access the digital pictures he had taken
on his sea voyage.  She asked many questions about the box in front of
her, not being able to imagine at all how pictures appeared out of
nowhere in full color.  She had seen black and white photographs and a
few silent movies at travelling shows, but nothing like this. 

   She was bright and adapted well, and soon she was clicking through
the thumbnails, a little clumsy, not having developed the double click
instinct that Bill Gates had inflicted on humans.  He cooked while she
asked him questions about everything, one after the other in a constant
stream.  She particularly liked the "great explorer" series he shot of
himself, adopting impressive poses with a stern face as he pointed off to
sea like a statue.  She was silent as she gazed at the icebergs and the
great wall of ice in the north.

   "You said there was probably not much land in the world, why is
that?" she asked.

   "I'm just guessing of course, but the weather is too regular for large
land masses.  The wind blows constantly from the west and you could
tell time by the rain bands that pass by."

   "Do you think this is the only land?"

   "It's possible, I don't know.  There's no way to find out."

   "Couldn't you search in the boat?" she asked.

   "Not out to sea, no.  It would be too easy to get lost, and I couldn't
carry enough water and food.  I only made that trip by hugging the
shoreline.  I don't think the boat could survive a rain storm on the sea."

   Pauline was silent for awhile, finishing the photos, which really didn't
show that much.  The shoreline was mostly featureless, and he had filled
up the camera chip mostly just to keep a record, though it wasn't likely
anyone else would care.

   He cooked the gourd pasta and steamed the scallops and shrimps,
pouring chile cream sauce and grilled onions over the top.  A plate of
chilled red crab added to the meal, along with sweet coconut pod cream
drinks.  Pauline plowed through the food, complimenting him on the
preparation.  She particularly liked the cold red crab, a favorite of his as
well.  The leg segments were immense, twice the size of a dungeness or
more, and many times larger than a blue crab.

   After cleaning the dishes they went outside and looked at the sky for
awhile, and he suggested a movie.  Pauline was excited about that, and
was amazed again when he showed her the slim DVD disks.  He
considered his collection carefully.  Most of the movies had modern
themes, and even a picture like "Vertigo" wasn't appropriate.  Rather than
enjoying the movie, she would have been distracted by the sights and
sounds, the cars and the city. 

   He rifled through the boxes and finally settled on the latest Cohen
brother's movie.  It turned out to be the right choice, set closer to her
time.  After the novelty of the projection television and surround sound
wore off, she loved the movie, laughing and applauding like it was a
stage show.  When George Clooney sang into the radio microphone she
clapped her hands and bounced on the couch in time to the music.  When
it was over she wanted to see it again, and she was just as excited the
second time through, singing along through part of the songs. 

   After the movie they sat outside, Pauline on the bed and Steve in his
recliner, watching the center of the galaxy light up the yard.  It was
brighter than a full moon, and it was even possible to see the colors of
the roses a hundred feet away.  Pauline by now had soaked through her
dress with perspiration, and he felt sorry for her again.  He started to
speak, but he could see she was silent, thinking about something.

   "I would be in town by now, buying fabric for my wedding dress," she
said.

   "I know, I'm sorry."

   "Don't be, I'm glad.  I didn't want to marry William, it was my aunt's
idea."

   Steve started to reply, but she obviously had something to say, so he
kept quiet and watched her eyes.

   "I'm not ignorant you know," she said, "and I know you'll want me,
in the way a man wants a wife; you know what I mean."

   "I can't deny it, I was alone here for many years," he replied.  "I hope
in time you'll be my wife, yes, assuming we stay here, assuming the
machine doesn't have something else in mind."

   She paused and looked away.  "I won't deny you, but give me time,
please?"

   "Time is all we have here, don't feel pressured, I'll wait for you."

   "I'm grateful," she replied.  She hesitated again, having difficulty
saying what she meant.  "Mr. Owens, William that is, he already had
children you see, and his wife died.  That's why I was marrying him."

   "You were going to replace his wife?"

   "And the children's mother.  Steve, I know you'll want children, we
should have them I suppose, alone in this place."

   "I'm afraid that isn't possible, I can't give them to you.  I had a
vasectomy when I was younger, that's an operation to cut off the . . .
well, to block the sperm from the testicles, sorry, you know what I
mean?"

   "I grew up on a farm," she replied, "but why?"

   "Birth control.  When I was young men and women, they . . . they
made love together, even if they weren't married, often.  It was to help
my sex life, for fun, you see?  I didn't want children then, I didn't think
I ever would.  I'm sorry."

   Pauline sat quietly for a moment, thinking.  "That's why I was
marrying William, I can't have children either.  I'm barren."

   "You can't have children?  How do you know?"

   "Because I don't, I can't . . ."  She turned away, wringing her hands
in her lap.

   Steve understood what she was trying to say; she wasn't ovulating, no
monthly visitor.

   "You don't have to talk about it, I'm sorry,"  he said.  "It's not a
coincidence you know, you being here, both of us not being fertile."

   "How do you mean?" she asked.

   "I think I'm responsible for you being here."  

   Steve explained his theory of the planet, how it came to be there, why
he was plucked off the earth and what he was feeling just a few days
ago, before she appeared to answer his need.  Pauline listened for the
most part, asking a few questions, but didn't have anything to say about
whether she believed it or not.  The concept of an alien intelligence was
easier to grasp if you had been exposed to forty years of science fiction.

   "I'm not sorry I came here," she said.  "I didn't want to live on a farm,
I wanted . . . I wanted something else."

   "I'm afraid you're stuck here now," he replied, "I hope you'll be happy
in time.  I know I'll be happy now that you're here."

   Pauline smiled at him.  "I'm sure I will, it's a lovely place, and you're
a nice man, even if you are a savage.  I'm sorry I called you that."

   "I can cover myself a little if you wish, I'm sure I can rig up
something," he said.

   "It's alright," she shrugged.  "I'm afraid I know what you mean about
the heat.  I'm having a problem with my clothes.  They're too warm, but
I'm not ready to run around naked."

   "Yeah, I could see that, but I didn't want to embarrass you.  Look,
why don't you take off the dress and your pants," he suggested, "try
wearing just the slip.  It will still cover you up mostly and you'll be
much cooler.  There's no one but me here, and I'll be polite."

   "Thank you, I think I must or perspire to death."   

   Pauline went into the house to arrange herself, returning to the patio
wearing a full length white slip, tied in back.  She had rinsed out the arm
pits and the wet fabric clung to her sides as she walked, her arms
hugging her huge breasts, which jiggled and bounced as she walked.  The
thin cloth could not conceal her little nipples, standing at attention,
probably from being nervous.

    Steve watched her sit back down on the bed, the galactic light shining
on her face.  She had taken down her hair and it flowed over her
shoulders, just touching the tops of her breasts.  He had a strong urge to
walk over and sit with her on the bed, but pretended to ignore her new
appearance, not making any comments.  They sat for awhile and
eventually slept, Steve curled up in the chair, and Pauline alone on the
bed.


Chapter 14


   The following weeks were the happiest of Steve's life, up to that time. 
Pauline was excited about everything he showed her, and bombarded him
with questions, everything from how the microwave worked to twentieth
century history.  They watched several more movies, gradually moving
from western classics like "The Searchers" to more modern movies, like
"The Sting", which she loved.  He figured she wasn't quite ready for
"Pulp Fiction", so he kept to the light side of the collection.

   Music was more difficult, as she lacked the musical background to
bridge the gap.  He had grown up with the progression of rock music,
from the relatively primitive sixties all the way to the bright techno of his
time.  Pauline came from the age of pianos and banjos, and the loud
drums and electric guitars were hard on her ears.  Some things she liked
very much, particular ballads by the Fixx, and artists like Nick Drake and
Kristin Hersh.  She could tolerate the Cure well enough, his favorite
group, and particularly liked the soft gothic and techno material, like
Hooverphonic.  He didn't even bother with Trent Reznor and Curt
Cobain, wondering if she would ever enjoy such music.
   
   During the day she would walk with him along the beach, helping him
gather shellfish.  She learned how to cook with the electric appliances,
and they began to share such domestic chores with an unspoken
agreement.  Her bread making experiments were a failure so far,
producing only bowls of moldy slop.  If there were yeasts in the air, they
didn't compete well enough to colonize the dough.

   She loved to hunt pods with him in the valleys behind the hill, and
they found another cream pod that produced a sweeter pulp than the
durian-like pods he had used so far.  At her suggestion, he had rigged up
an ice cream churn, using salt evaporated from the sea to mix with the
ice, and a pod cream and sugar mix.  The end product wasn't bad, kind
of like vanilla ice milk with coconut flavoring.  Her most valuable find
was an oil pod with flesh like a soft mozzarella cheese, expanding the
dinner menu considerably.

   It was Pauline that learned how the pod trees reproduced, finding
pockets of spores among the top fronds.  She planted spores from the
best trees along the stream bed in back of the house, and after a few
weeks was rewarded by finding fronds curling out of the ground, the
starts of new trees.  The days were long and there was plenty of time for
her to spend an hour or two in the garden, clipping spent roses and
weeding.  The garden was her passion, and within a few weeks it went
from being a bit shaggy to being groomed like a park.  There was always
a vase of roses on the dining room table.

   After the first night Steve had continued his regular pot smoking. 
Pauline had no experience with the drug wars, and had no idea what he
was smoking until he explained.  She tried a few hits as they walked on
the beach one night, coughing at first, but finally getting a few lung fulls
after Steve showed her how to inhale.  She had to sit down in the sand
for a few minutes as the drug took effect, but afterwards they ran and
played in the surf as Pauline laughed uncontrollably.  From then on she
was always up for a smoke, often being the first to indulge.

   In the heat of the day they lolled about in the rock pool, cooled off by
the clear stream water.  The slip covered up Pauline well enough while
she was in, floating above her breasts.  But when she got out of the
water, the wet fabric clung to her like a second skin, revealing all of her
curves.  Steve turned his head to allow her to straighten out the cloth, to
loosen it from her skin a bit before he looked at her again.  He could see
that she noticed, and thought she appreciated his tact, though they said
nothing about it through silent agreement.

   They slept apart, usually Pauline on the inside bed and Steve outside. 
If he had to use the bathroom, he always kept his eyes to himself as he
passed her bed.  Pauline had the same trouble with sleep as he had in the
beginning, but gradually accepted the need to sleep as required, whatever
the time of day.  They didn't always sleep at the same time, and often
Steve would sleep in the sand on one of the beaches, while Pauline sat
next to him reading, working through his collection of paperbacks.  When
she slept out of phase, Steve would work in the shop, or gather pods and
paper from the jungle.  

   Steve had kept to the bays near the house to fish, but was putting too
much pressure on the pools, and needed to range farther in the boat.  The
first few trips he took alone, as Pauline was scared of drowning, not
being able to swim.  It took a couple of weeks of sporadic lessons, with
a newly shortened slip, before she felt confident enough to maintain if the
boat flipped over.  It had happened a couple of times to Steve, and it was
a simple matter to turn it over, by pulling the mast down to the deck and
standing on one of the catamaran hulls, grabbing the other as it rose in
the water. 

   When she felt ready, they took a trip out to the islands to search for
giant crab.  It was an easy trip, and Pauline screamed and laughed as he
surfed the cat out on the tubes, flying down the back of the waves and
jumping over the crests as he tacked upwind.  They pulled the boat up
on a sandy beach and played in the water, enjoying the view inland to
their valley from out at sea.

   "Are there many islands like this?" she asked.

   "Thousands, some very large off to the west."

   "How far do you go?"

   "Usually just within the valleys on either side, there are plenty enough
shellfish there."

   They lay in the sand for awhile, smoking a joint rolled from the tree
paper and enjoying the warm sun.  Wet sand had covered her slip and
worked its way inside, and she was trying to shake it out, quite an erotic
sight as she shook and patted herself.

   "Pauline, why don't you just take it off, I won't . . . well, I'll be
polite.  You'll be more comfortable without it."  Even with just the slip
on she was usually too warm, and it was stained in the armpits from
being constantly wet from her perspiration.

   She turned away for a moment, and then reached behind her, pulling
the laces out.  She let it fall to her waist, and covered her breasts with
her hands, as well as she could.  Keeping her back to him, she wiggled
it free of her hips and pulled it off her legs, wadding up the wet sandy
fabric into a ball and throwing it into the bushes, a gesture of finality.  

   "Don't throw it away, we can use the fabric for something," he said.

   "Alright.  I feel . . . well, I feel naked.  You won't say anything?"

   "Not a thing, relax," he said, patting the sand next to him.  She lay
back down, her hands still covering her breasts as they lay on her chest,
flattened a little, but still proud.  He had seen them at the stream, and
plenty of times through the wet slip, but he was still impressed at how
firm they stood off her chest, like they were supported by an invisible
bra.  They were very large, forty five inches around he guessed, maybe
more, and all the more remarkable given her slim waist and trim legs. 
If she had modeled in his time, she would have been famous.

   Her hair started off a slightly dark blonde, but was fading just a bit in
the sun, picking up highlights in the waves of hair that lay on her
shoulders.  She had bangs on her forehead that curved off to the side,
framing her face just above the eyes.  Her face was her best feature, even
though her figure was dominated by her boobs.  The portrait of her eyes,
lips and nose peeking through her hair, down to her smooth shoulders
and onto the slopes of her immense breasts was as fine as any women he
had ever seen.  Making love this to this girl would be incredible, looking
down at a sight like that.

   The rest of her body wasn't as spectacular as her breasts, but was very
nicely formed.  She was about five foot two, with proportional legs, short
but shapely.  Her bottom was well curved from her thighs, but flattened
out just a little as it met her back.  A little more flesh on the upper parts
of her cheeks would flatter her rear profile while standing, but when she
bent over her ass fit in just right with the inner curve of her back.  Her
best position was on her hands and knees, her breasts swinging down
underneath in giant pear shapes.  

   Her tummy was mostly flat, but a little soft on the sides, with a small
horizontal fold just above her mound.  Her pussy lips were full and
fleshy, and he could see a little wrinkle of inner lips as she bent over. 
Her pubic hair was light and sparse, just barely covering her lips, while
standing out a little over her mound.  Steve preferred hairless pussies, but
at least she wasn't hirsute.

   They spent the rest of the day fishing around the island, and her hands
eventually stopped covering up, her breasts swaying and bobbing as she
moved.  Steve was thrilled, but tried not to think of her nudity, as an
erection now would spoil the mood.  He had masturbated regularly during
the past few weeks, keeping himself from being pent up, and preventing
for the most part an embarrassing situation.  He couldn't help become
erect when he was sleeping, and she must have noticed, but he had
managed to control himself around her while awake.

   They were just getting ready to leave the island when Steve spotted
what he was looking for, the antenna of a giant crab down the slope of
the dropoff.  He took a few deep breaths and dived on the spot, coming
back up in a few moments grappling with a huge crab longer than
himself.  Although the legs of the crab could be eight foot end to end,
the body was smaller than a king, and they couldn't really fight back. 
The claws were smaller than a coconut crab.  He wrestled the ungainly
beast onto the beach and bashed its head in with a rock, leaving it to flop
around in the sand while it died.

   Pauline was horrified by the sight of him climbing out with the crab
wrapped around him, and danced around nervously on the beach, unsure
if he needed help or not.  She helped him rip the leg segments off and
rinsed them in the sea before stacking them in the ice chest, but she kept
her eyes on the water, concerned that one of the monsters might sneak up
on her.

   They sailed back home, Steve first tacking out beyond the island to
show her the next bay, and the mouth of the river beyond.  Being farther
from home gave them a longer trip back downwind, and Pauline was
delighted by the high speed run across the waves, laughing and shrieking
and holding her bouncing breasts when the boat hit a trough.  He surfed
down a long wave, aiming the boat for the mouth of their home stream,
and he hit it just right, the boat shooting up the creek as he dropped the
sail.  Pauline helped him pull the boat back up the creek out of the way
of storms, and they pulled down the sail and tied it off to a rock.

    They climbed up to the yard and showered the salt water from their
skin and hair, and Steve rinsed and wrapped most of the crab for the
freezer while Pauline dried her hair with the blow dryer, her favorite
appliance of all.  He noticed she had rinsed out the slip and left it laid
out on the porch, but she didn't put it on later when it was dry, and never
wore it again.  They now truly resembled Adam and Eve.  It was getting
to be time for a bite of the apple, Steve thought.


Chapter 15


   They both slept a full night after eating, and later walked down the
beach together a few hours before dawn.  The galaxy was slipping in the
west, while the eastern sky was full of a huge nebula that filled a quarter
of the sky, brown pillars of dust lit blue on the edges by countless white
stars.  The nebula was a nursery for stars, and they lined the fringes of
the cloud like a beach surrounding an island.

   They waded up the creek to the dell below the water fall, swimming
in the pool and admiring the colors shimmering in the mist.  Perhaps it
was the novelty of being naked, but Pauline had been excited all day.  It
was easy enough to tell by the erect condition of her nipples, and by the
way she brushed against him as they swam.

   Steve was acutely aware of her moods, and took his chance, reaching
out to take her hand.  It was the first time they had touched like this.  He
hoped it was a casual gesture and wouldn't interrupt their mood, but
Pauline dropped his hand and swam away, climbing out of the pool,
standing by the shore, her back to him.  He followed her out and kept his
distance, shaking water out of his hair, watching her.

   "Pauline?  I'm sorry, come on, let's walk down to the beach and dry
off in the wind."

   She was quiet as the walked back down the stream, turning to walk
past the bluff, lit by blue light from the nebula in front of them.

   "Sorry, I took the liberty back there," he said, "I didn't mean any
harm."

   Suddenly she turned and kissed him, awkwardly, clicking teeth as he
opened his mouth.  Steve reached his arm around her, pulling her breasts
into him, and kissed her back, keeping his tongue in his mouth, but fully
engaging her lips in a passionate kiss.  He could feel her breath stutter
and her body quiver as he increased the embrace, wrapping both arms
around her, keeping his hands to her back.  Her hands touched his back
tentatively, fluttering against his skin like little birds, not sure where they
wanted to land.

   The kiss ended and they stayed together, Pauline breathing deeply, her
breasts rising and falling as the were crushed against him.

   "You okay?" he asked.

   She shook her head up and down, so he kissed her again.  This time
her hands grabbed his back and held him to her, and he could feel his
penis stiffen against her tummy.  They stayed like that for long minutes,
kissing and rubbing each other's back, until Steve let his hand fall to her
bottom, pulling her into his erection while he caressed her cheeks.  The
kiss ended again, and she lay her head on his shoulder, as much as she
could given the separation forced by her breasts.

   "It's alright," she said, "I can see you want me, and you've been very
patient, a gentleman."

   "I'm in no hurry, Pauline, you're worth waiting for."

   "You've waited long enough."  She paused for a moment, eyes down.
"I've waited long enough.  I feel . . . like I'm ready, naked and free."

   She kissed him again, and rubbed her body into him, her hands busy
on his back, one falling to brush his buns.  She was breathing fast,
excited.

   "Not here, not the first time," he whispered, "let's go back to the
house."

   He let her go and held her arms, looking into her face and stroking her
hair.  She blushed and cast her eyes down, and he drank in the sight of
her hair brushing the tops of her breasts, her nipples hard at attention
against his skin.  They walked hand in hand back to the bluff, not saying
anything, and he led her by the hand up the stairs and through the
garden, to the bed where he sat her down.

   "I'll be back, I'll get us something to drink, don't go anywhere."

   She smiled back at him, the light of the galaxy shining in her face.  "I
wouldn't leave even if there was someplace to go," she replied.

    Steve quickly fixed a couple of pod lemonades, and picked up a wad
of tree paper.  As an after thought he poured a little pod oil into a glass. 
She was obviously a virgin, and a little lubrication would help.  He
walked back out on the patio, his penis at half mast, waving out in front
of him.  He was glad for the extra size Landru had bestowed on him,
admiring his staff.  

   Pauline had laid back on the bed, her head on a pillow, looking up at
the sky.  She accepted a glass without comment and took a drink,
handing it back to him.  He put the oil and the paper on a table next to
the bed and climbed up next to her, lying on his side, cradling her head
in one arm while his hand caressed her tummy.  Pauline turned her head
to meet his eyes, and pulled his hand up to her breast as he kissed her. 

   He refrained from squeezing her as first, and ran his hand over her
nipples with an open palm, feeling the curves of her cleavage and
cupping the breast from below.  They were too large to hold in one hand,
it was like palming a basketball.  He could feel her breathing quicken as
they kissed, and she made little sounds from her throat, becoming
excited.  He stopped and reached for her side, turning her over, her
breasts pillowing out against his chest as they together.  He brushed back
her hair and cupped her chin.

   "You're beautiful Pauline."

   She giggled and cast her eyes down, "you're the first person to say so."

   "But you have eyes, you knew?"

   "I suppose, but it's nice to hear it."

   "Then I'll say it again.  You're the most beautiful women I've ever
seen, I'm serious."

   "More than your computer women?"

   "You saw those pictures?  I never should have shown you the
computer, when did you figure that out?"

   "It's your fault, they were in a folder called My Pictures," she laughed.

   "I guess I should have hidden them away, I'm sorry."

   "It's alright, I shouldn't have peeked."

   Steve was mortified as he thought of the many jpg files stored on the
hard disk.  He hadn't anticipated that she might turn the machine on
while he was gone, though he had shown her how several times.  Most
of the pictures were of classic big bust models, but there were quite a
few bondage shots and a whole series of facial cum shots, all manner of
penises shooting onto faces and breasts.  He wondered how many she had
looked at.

   "It's just for fantasy you know, you shouldn't think I would want to
. . . well, do what some of the pictures showed."

   "It's alright, I only looked at a few."

   Steve wondered which ones, but didn't ask. 

   "You have movies too don't you?" she asked.

   "Only a few, and mostly on tape."

   "Tape?"

   "A long ribbon of magnetic plastic, the movie plays as the ribbon is
pulled over a device that reads it."

   "Why both tape and the disks?" she asked.

   "One was invented before the other, so I had both.  The DVD was
relatively new.  Tapes wear out, but the DVD doesn't."

   "Show me the movies some day?"

   "I'll have to edit them first, some of them would offend you.  Men can
want . . . different experiences for fantasy, you mustn't judge by what
you see."

   "I won't," she replied.  "Kiss me again?"

   "Sorry, where were we?"

   "I think you were telling me I was beautiful."

   "That you are, come here."

   He hugged her to him and kissed her for many long minutes, breaking
off to let her recover, kissing her nose and forehead and holding her face
in his hand.  He reached down to run his hand over the side of her breast
and let his hand continue down her side, caressing a bottom cheek and
then pushing over her tummy to her mound, stroking her hair and the top
of her pussy lips.  She moaned and opened her mouth as he pushed her
onto her back and dropped his fingers between her legs as they parted.

   He gently massaged her pussy lips and thighs, keeping his hands away
from her tender parts for the moment, not wanting to push it too fast. 
His leaned over and kissed a breast, taking the nipple between his lips
and tickling the end with his tongue, which made her giggle and shiver.

   Pauline had kept her hands to herself for the most part, but he could
feel her hand lift off of the bed between them and brush his shaft, and
then wrap around it.  She obviously didn't know what to do with it, so
he helped her understand by moving his hips back and forth, causing his
penis to rub through her hands.  When he stopped she got the message
and her hand began stroking him and down.

   "Easy, I'm a little pent up and if you stroke me too fast I'll lose
control.  Rub it gently and squeeze it every now and then.  You can feel
my balls, my testicles, but be careful, they're sensitive."

   "I know," she replied, "tell me what to do, I'm not sure."

   "You're doing fine, I'll take the lead, just lay back and relax."  

   He kissed her again and let his fingers slip between her pussy lips,
finding her warm and moist.  She moaned in his mouth and returned the
kiss with passion as his finger tip travelled up her inner lips and circled
her clitoris.  She began breathing hard and her hips wriggled on the bed,
her legs opening wide.  Her hand had stopped on his penis and she was
gripping it hard.  He understood, and increased his motions around her
hood.  He let his finger run down over the tip, and she quivered and
closed her legs a bit, finding the contact too sensitive.  He backed off and
continued to work around the hood, surrounding it with two fingers and
pumping back and forth.

   Suddenly she cried out, "ohhh, ohhh, Steve, God!" and she was
cumming, pumping her hips up and down and rolling her head into the
bed.  He kissed her nipple and sucked it into his mouth, running his
tongue over her breast.  She cried out again and then broke off, turning
away from his hand and rolling over onto her side, gasping for air with
her back to him.  He held her to him, both hands cupping a breast, or at
least the ends of them, his penis against her bottom, while he kissed her
hair.  She giggled when he found her ear with his tongue.

   They lay for a few minutes like that, and then she rolled over to face
him, starting to speak, "sorry, I . . . "

   He didn't let her finish, kissing her again, and they began where they
left off, feeling each other.  He rolled her on her back and kissed her,
then got up on his knees and leaned over her body, kissing and sucking
her breasts and slowly working his way down her tummy, getting her to
giggle again as his tongue fell into her navel.  She grew quiet as his
kisses moved down to her mound, her legs falling apart.  "Steve," she
said, as he kissed her pussy lips gently, "what . . . " and then she fell
silent, breathing through her mouth as he licked down each lip, circling
her opening and then falling between to her inner lips, moving back up
to the hood of her clitoris.  Her pussy tasted clean and fresh, in spite of
her moisture, and he delighted in the feel of it on his lips and tongue.

   He moved her close to orgasm a few times, moving away from her
clitoris whenever she began to show signs of beginning to move towards
her release.  His hand moved from stroking her legs, and he let a finger
part her lips and up into her opening, feeling for her hymen.  She was
still a virgin, but the opening seemed larger than he expected, though he
hadn't felt an unbroken pussy since playing as a child with the girls in
the neighborhood.  He knew it was going to hurt, and he wanted her to
be as excited as possible when he entered.

   He left off his oral attention, and climbed between her legs, stopping
to reach over to the table to get oil on his fingers, which he transferred
to the head of his cock. 

  "Pauline, I'm coming inside.  It will be a little painful you know, and
there may be some blood at first."

  "I know," she replied.

  He pushed his head inside her pussy lips, thrilling to the feel of her
moist flesh against the tip of his cock.  He circled it over her clitoris a
few times and she moaned in delight.  When he worked the tip down to
her entrance, her hands gripped the bed and he could feel her tense up. 
He slipped the head just inside, running it up to the hymen and then
pumping it in and out a few times.  It felt so good that he could have
cummed if he kept it up.  

   Finally he eased forward, feeling the restricting ring being pushed over
the sensitive flesh of his cock head.  He maintained an even pressure, but
moved relentlessly forward until she parted and he was in, his shaft
slipping into her canal as she whimpered a bit.  When he was fully inside
he leaned down and kissed her, licking a tear from her cheek.  His new
sized cock fit inside like it was made for her, lock and key.

   He began to move in and out slowly, alert to her mood, his cock
demanding action, urgent to cum.  She kept her eyes squeezed shut, and
another tear escaped, but she made no protest as he increased his
motions.  He felt himself starting to swell and pushed himself into the
hilt, tensing his arms and butt as he felt his penis spurt into her.  He
groaned and cried out her name, finishing and collapsing on top of her,
leaning over a bit to avoid crushing her breasts.  He let himself find his
breath and looked down at her face.

   "Pauline, you okay?"

   "Yes."

   "It hurts?"

   "It stings a bit", she said, "I'll be alright."

   He reached over for a wad of the paper and got up on his haunches,
reaching under her with the tissues as he pulled out, wiping his shaft off. 
There was a little blood on the paper, but she wasn't bleeding seriously. 
He patted the tissues around her pussy and pulled her legs shut, turning
her over on her side.  He lay next to her and kissed her, gently caressing
her back.  Her eyes were a little moist, but she smiled at him.

   "Did I do it right?" she asked.

   "There is no right, Pauline, you do what feels good to yourself, what
you think will bring pleasure."

   "I liked what you did, I thought it was . . . I didn't know people . . .
did that, you know."

   "Hush, and kiss me," he said.

   She laughed and they fell back into an embrace, kissing and stroking
each other until the glow of the two suns lit the sky in the morning.


Chapter 16


   The following day Steve kept his distance again, not avoiding her, but
restraining himself from touching her in an intimate way.  They slept
together on the bed until the late morning, and he kissed her quickly
before settling in, but he didn't assume that sex was a given, and Pauline
apparently appreciated the gesture, reaching out to squeeze his hand
before rolling over to sleep.

   They held hands as they walked on the beach in the afternoon, and
laughed and played in the waves.  Steve taught her to surf using a belly
board he made, and late in the day they sailed around the islands, just for
the fun of it, pulling into a beach and catching some shrimp for dinner,
then taking another long sleep in the sand.

   It was evening when they arrived back at the bluff, and when he
stopped to shower in front of the house Pauline joined him, and they took
turns washing each other's back with the pod soap.  When they were
finished he helped her dry her hair in the breeze, working the hair dryer
and brushing her waves out while she stood in the sun and smiled.  

   "Thanks, that was nice," she said.

   "I love your hair, it's my pleasure."

   "Steve, when do you shave?" she asked, "I haven't seen you yet."

   "I haven't grown facial hair for years, it's the machine I told you
about, it's influence.  You understand how light bulbs work?  They don't
last very long, a couple of years maybe before the filament burns up.  I
haven't lost one.  It monitors us and protects us somehow, I don't know."

   "It's rather frightening," she said, and then she paused, and looked
down.  "I'm losing my hair, down there."

   "I didn't know, I'm sorry, I hadn't seen you . .. well, until yesterday."

   "It's alright, just so I don't lose the hair on my head.  I wouldn't want
to go bald."

   "I don't think you have anything to worry about," he said.  He
certainly didn't have any bald spots, but he didn't plan on telling her how
old he was.  He looked thirty, but was now well past sixty, while she was
eighteen.  It would make their relationship uncomfortable, and he had
hidden evidence of his past in a box in the shop, old letters and such,
away from a chance encounter she might have with the truth.

   "I'm afraid it's probably my fault again," he said.  "It's my preference
you see, and I think you're being affected by it."

   "And what else do you plan on changing, I hope my bubbies don't get
larger."

   "Bubbies?  Is that what you called them?  I've never heard that
before."  She was blushing and averted her eyes, and he left it alone.  He
also refrained from mentioning that he thought the upper parts of her
bottom could use some more flesh.  He thought he noticed they were just
slightly fuller this morning, though the change was small, if there was
any at all.  Still, it wouldn't surprise him if it were true.

   "What about me?" she asked.

   "I'm sorry?"

   "What if I desired that your hair turned red, do you think your machine
would listen to me?"

   "I don't know.  Try speaking to it in your mind, like you would pray. 
I may take some time, I begged for someone like you for years."

   She smiled at him.  "Did you get your wish?"

   "Everything and more."  

   She kissed him and remained standing in front of with her eyes closed,
so he wrapped her in his arms and returned the kiss for many long
minutes, embracing her and rubbing her back, her breasts pillowed
against his chest.  She noticed his erection pressing against her.

   "You want me again, don't you?"

   "You're sweet, but let's wait a few days until you heal."  He paused
for a moment, thinking of what to say.  "There are other ways,
remember?"

   "Yes."

   She buried her head in his shoulder and he felt her hand leave his back
and reach between them, moving back a little to gain access to his cock. 
Steve kissed her hair and cradled her head as he closed his eyes to enjoy
the feeling.  She stroked him gently as he had showed her, and while her
technique needed some help, he didn't even think about breaking the
mood to speak.  Instead he let his free hand reach down to caress her
bottom, running down between the crack to feel the soft inside skin of
her cheeks.  He could feel her breath on his shoulder, and heard her
make little sounds of excitement.

   He was losing control, so he picked her up in his arms and carried her
to the outside bed, while she giggled and squealed.  He laid her down,
laughing, and kissed her.

   "I'll get us something to drink."

   She laughed, "I'm sorry, I have to go to the bathroom."

   "Meet you back here."

   He went into the kitchen while she saw to herself, and pulled a plate
of crab out of the fridge along with some cold camellia tea, put some pod
oil in a glass and grabbed a bunch of tissues.  He wasn't sure what he
had in mind, but it would end up wet one way or the other.  He wanted
to do her breasts in the worst way, but he thought that would be pushing
it.

   He was outside arranging the food and drinks when she came back out. 
She was quiet and shy again after the interruption, and lay back down on
the bed without saying anything.  But she smiled when he looked down
at her, and giggled when he put a piece of crab in her mouth.
He lay down next to her and they ate some of the crab, enjoying the
trade winds on their bodies in the dying light of the yellow sun.
   
   They started by facing each other and kissing deeply, playing games
with their tongues.  Her hand found his penis again, and he kissed and
caressed her breasts, licking the cleavage formed by lying on of each
other.  He broke off and rolled her over on her tummy and breasts, and
arranged her legs out behind her, patting her bottom.  She looked over
her shoulder at him, questioning.

   "I'll give you a back rub," he said, grabbing the oil from the table and
rubbing some into his hands.  She lay her head back down and he
straddled her legs, rubbing her flanks and lower back, then working up
the her shoulders and neck.  She smiled and stretched as he worked down
her spine, running her hands over her bottom cheeks and back up again. 
It was the first back rub he'd given in a decade or more, but he didn't
forget what women liked.  He turned around to handle her thighs and
calves, and she moaned with pleasure as his hands found her feet,
rubbing her soles deeply and firmly.

   It didn't appear as though she ever wanted him to stop, and he let her
have all she wanted, pleasuring himself by spreading some pod oil
between the bottom cheeks, and rubbing his erection between them as he
worked on her back some more, stroking in and out of the soft valley of
her lush behind.  A couple of times he let his penis slip between her
thighs and ran it up between her pussy lips to tickle her clitoris with the
head of his cock, causing her to gasp and tense up.  But each time he left
off before he became too excited, and withdrew to continue the back rub
as she groaned in frustration.  

   Finally he gave in, and rolled her back over, spreading her legs.  He
turned around on the bed with his feet by her head, kneeling by her side,
and grasped her bottom in his hands as he lowered his face between her
legs, licking and kissing the insides of her thighs.  His cock dangled
below him, and he was pleased when she reached up a hand to grasp it
as he moved to her pussy lips.  It was a perfect position to provide her
oral pleasure, relaxing to both of them, and allowing him to remain erect
and excited with her hand squeezing and stroking his cock.

   He took his time, slowly working around her pussy, licking the
junction between her lips and thighs all the way down her entrance and
beyond, circling her anus as she moaned and lifted her hips in response. 
She had lubricated a little, but even so was clean and sweet tasting, only
the barest hint of musk as he plunged his tongue between her lips,
separating her inner folds to come upon her clitoris from behind, pushing
his tongue under the hood.  

   Pauline was evidently ready to cum, and her hand on his cock stopped
its motions as she tensed and gripped him.  He gave into her, putting her
clitoris between his lips, licking around it with a moist tongue.  She
began to flex her hips up and down in response and then let out a cry as
she came, calling his name and thrashing on the bed, finally pulling away
from his mouth as the sensations were too intense for her.

   He let her unwind, gently kissing and licking her mound and thighs. 
When she relaxed her legs he started again, and she groaned as his
tongue once again began working between her pussy lips.  She came
twice more in succession and then once again after a long build up,
denying her contact with her clitoris until she was frantic for it, pushing
herself into his mouth.  He thrashed it without mercy, until she closed her
legs and rolled over on the bed, panting and laughing.  He lay next to her
and rubbed her bottom and back as she recovered.

   "That was . . . how did you know to do that?" she asked.

   "I wouldn't be much of a man if I couldn't give you pleasure."

   "Hmmm, you did," she added.  "What about you, do you want me to
do that?  I don't know what to do."

   "Are you sure you're up for it?" he asked.

   "Why not?  I'm a modern woman now."

   "I want you to be comfortable, you're a modest person, and I
appreciate that."

   "Am I?  We'll see about that."  She got up on her knees and faced
him.  "Now what?"

   "Give me your finger," he said.

   "My finger?"

   "Pretend it's me for a moment."

   He took one of her fingers into his mouth and moved it in and out
between his lips as he wrapped his tongue around it and sucked.  He
placed his hand around the base of the finger and stroked up and down
the shaft while he sucked.  Pauline giggled at the strange scene, but she
indicated she understood what he was showing her, shaking her head up
and down as he pulled the finger out and kissed the end.

   "The tip is very sensitive," he said, "be careful with teeth.  Wipe me
down with some tissues first, I've got pod oil all over me."

   She reached behind her to grab some tissues and turned back to rub
them around his cock.  She had something to say he could tell, and he
guessed what her concern was.

   "You know what happens when I get excited, at the end?" he asked.

   She nodded.

   "Maybe later you can try to swallow it, there isn't any taste really. 
Tonight if you want to pull it out and rub it between your breasts, I'd
love that.  I'll help you guide it."

   Pauline blushed and shook her head up and down, which he took to
mean the latter alternative tonight.  It was more than he hoped for
anyway.  If she hadn't offered, he had thought of letting her finish him
with her hands.  His cock was throbbing for attention as he arranged the
girl on her hands and knees, her legs up by his head.  That way the flat
of her tongue would press against the front slope of the head of his cock,
and he could enjoy her behind.

   She started off slowly and tentatively, kissing him and licking his
shaft, as he had done to her pussy.  Finding that the taste of his skin
wasn't objectional, she allowed the penis into her mouth and he moaned
in ecstasy of the feel of her lips and tongue on his erection, thrilling to
the picture she presented on her hands and knees, her hair falling over
her face and his shaft between her lips.  She copied the moments he had
shown her, and he whispered encouragement.  When she fell into a
rhythm he lay back to enjoy, running his hand under her tummy to hold
her immense breasts as they swayed underneath her.  

   He tried to hold out as long as he could, but he was too excited by the
long lead up to this moment, and within a few minutes felt himself
giving in to the inevitable.  He spoke softly, "Pauline?", and she lifted
her face away, pushing her breasts awkwardly around his slick penis.  He
reached down to help, shifting them so that his erection ran between
them, the tip of his cock buried between tit flesh at the end of the stroke
to save her from being sprayed with his semen.  He hardly had time to
savor the feeling before beginning to spurt into her breasts.

   The first shot was small, but was followed immediately by a long
gusher than squirted out between her cleavage and ran down over their
hands.  Again he shot into her, holding the head of his cock deep
between her breasts, stroking it lightly as he came, the cum dripping
down her tummy.  His cock slipped out once and a stream shot up in the
air, landing on the top of her breast, draping over a nipple. 

   He collapsed onto the bed when it was over, groaning in delight.  He
looked up at her and she was smiling with a funny look on her face, that
said she was happy he had enjoyed it, but was a little shocked at the
experience.  He helped her clean themselves off with tissues, and laid her
back down next to him, kissing her face, and rubbing her back.

   "That was very brave of you," he said, "and it was tremendously
satisfying for me.  Thank you."

   She opened her eyes and smiled.  "It was aright, nothing to be scared
of I guess.  I just hadn't . . . you know."

   "Had a man shoot sperm all over your breasts?" he added for her.

   She giggled and blushed.  "No, not that either."

   "Oh, I forgot, the other as well.  I don't mean to embarrass you by
talking about it.  It was considered healthy in my time, to communicate
with a partner, tell them what you liked."

   "It's alright, there's no one here but you and I, except for your
machine I suppose.  You don't think it watches us do you?"

   "Maybe, but I doubt it cares about such things.  I wish I knew where
it lived, I've looked for it for years."

   "What do you think it looks like?" she asked.

   "I'm not sure.  I'm guessing it's underground, though it could be under
the sea, or even out in space, I don't know.  Having the power to bring
us here through time and space, it's so advanced it could be anything. 
Maybe it's the whole planet, like a god, in everything and all of its
parts."

   They lay thinking and watched the darkness gather, the nebulas
peeking out in the dusk.

   "I think my breasts are getting bigger," she said.

   "No, I don't think so," Steve answered, "but it looks like they are
lifting a little."

   "I didn't know you paid such close attention."

   "You don't mind that I like your breasts?  They're the least thing I
love about you."

   She laughed and kissed him.  "No, I don't mind, it's wonderful when
you touch them.  I had no idea they could be used like that until . . ."

   "Until you saw my pictures?"  Steve thought she must have looked at
more pictures than she had admitted to, she had fallen into some very
unusual sexual practices for her time without much time for adjustment.

   "Never mind," she said, "I liked it anyway, it felt . . . I don't know."

   "Nasty," he said, "nasty and nice.  I'm hungry, how about you?"

   "Sure." 

   "How about we grill up some of the fresh shrimp we caught, smoke
some pot and play in the pool, watch the stars come out, how does that
sound?"

   "Heavenly," she replied, "can we watch a movie later?"

   "We can do anything you like.  I love you Pauline."

   She fell into his arms and he held her head on his shoulder, kissing her
hair and rocking her gently.


Chapter 17


   Steve was just waking up on the bed as Pauline came out to lie next
to him, still hours before dawn.  He turned to kiss her and they
embraced, their hands busy on each other.  Pauline was losing her
modesty, being naked and free, and sex play was becoming easier for her. 
Her hands soon had his cock stiff and eager for action, and Steve found
her pussy warm and moist.

   "I think your machine has been busy again," she said.

   "You don't have as much hair, here?" he asked, squeezing her pussy
lips between his fingers, causing her to giggle and hide her face in the
pillow.

   "I don't mean that," she said, turning back to him.  "I'm not sore down
there."

   Steve let a finger fall into her passage and gently felt her torn hymen,
or where it had been; because the inner skin was smooth and healed, and
Pauline did not appear to feel and discomfort from the manipulation.

   He rolled her over on her back without another word, and climbed
between her legs.  He was surprised to feel her hands reach down for
him, guiding his penis into her, wanting it as much as he did.  He slowly
entered her, savoring the feeling of her lining expanding around his cock
head as it penetrated, until he was into the hilt, rocking gently, kissing
her breasts below him.  He stayed that way for many minutes feeling her
warm underneath him, and her bottom squirm in the bed.

   After awhile she pleaded to him, "Steve, oohhh, please," and he
relented, starting to stroke himself in and out of her tight pussy.  She
groaned when he pulled out to play the head over her clitoris, and when
he entered again he laughed as she lifted her legs up and locked them
around him, keeping him in.  Now he concentrated on the intensity of his
thrusts, keeping the pressure of his penis up against the top of her vagina,
slowly pulling out and then plunging back in all the way each time,
bumping her clitoris with his pelvis.  She began to lift her hips up to
meet him, demanding a faster pace, and he complied, picking up speed
as her hands gripped his shoulders, her head thrown back and her eyes
closed, panting and moaning.

   She cried out, "Steve!" and came hard, her pussy gripping his cock and
forcing him to stop until it relaxed.  He gave her a few more strokes and
she came again, holding his penis in a vice of warm flesh.  Finally she
collapsed back in the bed, her hands falling down to her breasts, catching
her breath.  She groaned as he continued his slow, intense stroking,
letting her build again.  Twice more she came, and each time his cock
remained inside her, stiff as wood, stroking her without mercy.  

   "Steve, wait, please . . ."

   "Okay," he laughed, slowing to a stop, still buried inside her.  He
leaned down to kiss her and she threw her hands around his neck, driving
her lips into his.  

   "You didn't . . . is it alright?" she asked.

   "Just taking my time," he replied, "we have nothing but time."

   They lay like that for awhile, while he kissed and licked her nipples
and the broad curves of her breasts.  

   "You really love them, don't you?" she said.

   "Hmmm, they're spectacular, but I told you they're not your best
feature."

   "What do you mean?" she laughed, "what is my best feature?"

   "Your eyes," he replied, and she raised her head to kiss him with
passion.

    He could feel her warming again, and he surprised her by pulling out
and rolling her over on her front, pulling her to her hands and knees.  He
reached over to the table for some of the pod oil, and lubricated his cock. 
Kneeling behind her he rubbed it up through the lips of her pussy, and
she rocked her hips back and forth to make his cock roll over her clitoris. 
Finally he took aim and impaled her, causing her to gasp with delight.

   He settled into place and reached down to hold the sides of her breasts
in his palm, barely moving inside her.  He was filled with lust at the
sight of her round bottom against him, the feel of her huge breasts
hanging down in his hands, but he wanted the feeling to last.  Pauline
accepted his caresses, but began to move her bottom back into him in an
insistent way, and he again complied, taking full strokes, letting go of her
breasts to raise up, moving his hands to her bottom.

   Pauline rested her head on the pillow, her breasts crushed against the
bed and her ass raised into the air and he started to pound into her,
slapping her bottom cheeks against his stomach at the end of each stroke. 
She began to moan steadily, her voice rising to a squeal as she came,
locking him in her grip again.  He waited for her to release him and then
picked up the pace, holding his breath as his cock swelled inside her. 
She came again just as he began to spurt, and when her vagina contracted
on his shaft he continued to stroke, using the lubrication of his own cum
to part her tight folds, causing Pauline to cum even harder.  Finally she
squealed again and let her legs fall back underneath him, flat on the bed. 
His cock fell out of her and rested between her bottom cheeks and he lay
over her, spent.

   After a few moments he retrieved some tissues to wipe himself off,
and stuffed a wad up between her legs to soak up the flood.  He lay next
to her and rubbed her back while she moaned her pleasure, regarding him
through half-closed eyes, with a satisfied smile.

   Over the next few weeks they made love frequently, working it into
their routine.  Pauline was modest but passionate and uninhibited, not
having any knowledge of sex aside from the basic mechanics.  As a result
Steve was able to indulge himself in what would be considered somewhat
kinky practices in a modern relationship.  

   He loved his penis between her breasts, and it became a standard part
of their foreplay.   Pauline was turned on when he touched her there, and
if he was lying next to her she would take his hand and bring it up to
cup one of them, or to gently tweak a nipple.  She liked to look down to
watch the head of his penis appearing from her cleavage, and assisted in
the action by pressing her breasts around him.  It was good his cock had
grown or it would have been lost in her flesh.    

   Several times he had splattered them with cum, most often as she lay
down between his legs with her breasts surrounding his shaft, or as he
straddled her while she lay on her back.  He loved the sight of his cum
squirting on her skin, and a couple of times used her bottom cheeks as
a vagina, massaging her as she lay on the bed, his cum eventually
spurting from between her cheeks to form lines on her back.

   He showed her the sixty nine position, licking her pussy from
underneath while she sucked his cock.  She no longer hesitated to suck
and lick him, often kneeling in front of him and playfully taking his
penis into her mouth.  If he came while she was sucking him she let him
continue, swallowing it down.

   She became adept at riding on top of him, leaning forward to present
her breasts for his hands and mouth, impaling herself on his penis,
rocking back and forth for an hour or more.  He could almost tell time
by her orgasms, and learned to bring himself to the peak of excitement
just before she came, her pussy gripping his erection at its most sensitive
state.  He could go through three or four cycles before losing control,
forcing the action by squeezing her breasts and cumming wildly as she
pumped her body back and forth in response to the pressure of his hands.

   Often they made love on the beach, Steve entering from behind, which
kept their moist privates out of the sand.  He would dig pits in the sand
with his knees, and she would lie all the way down, her breasts making
their own depressions.  He could stay like that for a long time without
cumming, leaning over to lie on her bottom, fondling her breasts.

   Steve gave her back everything he received, spending long hours
rubbing her back and feet, romancing her with flowers and treats, and
giving her all the oral attention she could stand.  Landru had indeed been
busy with her body, and her pussy soon was bare as a child's, delighting
Steve with the feel of her naked lips and mound under his tongue and
lips.  Her stomach had lost the one little wrinkle it formerly possessed,
and her slightly plump flanks became sleek and curved.  There was no
question now that her bottom had changed as well, curving all the way
from her legs to her back in a half moon.  He delighted in the feel of her
cheeks, and often would stroke her behind as they walked.

   Pauline was in love with everything; the beach and the sea, the shady
jungle trails, the modern appliances of the house, the garden and pool,
but most of all with him.  From living on a dreary farm with a
featureless horizon, forced into a loveless marriage, to being Eve in
paradise, it was everything she ever dreamed of.  She was a willing lover,
and Steve lived to please her.  A whole universe to explore paled next to
the pleasures of Pauline in his arms.


Chapter 18


   "It's a pity we don't have an apple tree," Pauline said, as they lay in
the pool.

   "Do you think that would be wise?  I don't recall good things
happening for old Adam ad Eve after that point in the story."

   "I suppose you're right, and besides, we don't have a snake."

   "I could fill in," he said, waggling his penis at her under the water. 
She laughed and splashed him, shrieking as he poked her with it.  He
backed her into the side of the pool and kissed her, lifting her by her
bottom as she wrapped her legs around him.  She sat back on his knees
and lay back with her arms around his neck.  They gazed into each
other's eyes and played the game of who looked away first, Pauline
losing as usual, breaking off the embrace and splashing him for good
measure.

   "We should have an adventure, do some exploring," she said. "We've
just been laying around for awhile."

   "I could explore your body."

   "You've already done that, or did you want to put it in my ear?"

   "I love your ears, but I don't think it would fit."

   "You liked it last night when you wrapped my hair around it," she
said, "do you want me to do that some more?"

   "It was great, but we were talking about your ears."

   "Leave my ears alone," she laughed.  "Anyway, I'm serious, let's
explore inland, I want to find more pods."

   "I'm game, the spores you planted are coming along fine."

   "It's a little scary being in the jungle at night, will you carry your
gun?"

   "May as well.  It's become second nature.  But I've never shot
anything so far."  Indeed, his favorite 475 sat in its leather holster now,
draped over a nearby chair.  He carried it wherever he went, like a
talisman, not even thinking about it.  

   "Where should we go?" she asked.

   "Why not back towards the central peak, climb up a bit.  It will be
cooler the higher we go, and it could be rocky, so we'll have to carry
shoes and jackets.  I don't have anything that will completely cover you
though," he said, rubbing a breast.

   "Or you," she laughed, and splashed him again.

   Which was true, his pants were long gone.  They had already sacrificed
her clothing to patch the sail, and were down to a couple of winter
jackets and knit hats.  

   "When do you want to leave?" he asked.

   "Now of course."

   "Okay, okay, give me today to get ready, I'll have to make up a pack,
think about what we need to take."

   "Alright," she replied, "let's get out, I'm starting to wrinkle."

   He pulled himself out of the pool and helped her out, and they dried
each other off in the warm sun.  He turned her around for a kiss, but
Pauline sank to her knees in front of him and started to play with his
penis, squeezing between her breasts until it hardened and rose up, then
tickling it with her tongue.  Steve ran his hands through her hair as she
began to suck him, pumping her head back and forth and rolling her
tongue over the tip, cupping his balls with one hand and massaging the
base of his penis with the other.

   Her technique was flawless, and she had learned how to extract the
maximum amount of moans and gasps from him as she worked.  She
brought him right to the brink of cumming, and then squeezed his shaft
behind the head, a trick he had shown her, and sometimes regretted. 
When he was back under control she started again, working him until he
strained on his toes, gripping her head, holding his breath and aching for
release.  Then she did it again, stopping and squeezing him hard, making
him beg.  

   Often he would have her stop before cumming, and would lay her
down on the spot, plunging into her moist pussy and bringing them both
off as he squirted into her.  Sometimes he would let her finish him in her
mouth, thrilled at the sight of his shaft between her lips as she swallowed
it down.  This time she had something else in mind, and when he was
thrusting himself into her and pleading with her to let him cum, she
pulled him out and began stroking him hard with her hand.  She intended
to make him splatter her breasts, but missed, and a long streak of cum
nailed her right on the forehead, dripping down her face.  She gasped and
got the next one on the cheek before aiming him down to finish on her
neck and breasts.

   "That's what you get for being a tease," he said.

   "Wipe me off," she laughed, "I don't want it in my eyes."

   But there wasn't anything at hand but their precious remaining towels,
so he pushed her back into the pool, shrieking.  She came up sputtering,
and splashed him, pretending to be angry.  He jumped back into the
water and joined her, and they embraced and kissed as he reached down
between her legs to please her with his hand.

   Pauline loved floating in the water, her breasts bobbing between them
as he pumped his hand over her pussy lips, forcing water back and forth
around her clitoris.  She could cum over and over, wrapping her hands
around his neck and gripping him hard as he slapped her pussy
underwater, as he did now.  Finally she couldn't take any more, and
closed her legs.  She floated side saddle on his knees and he rubbed her
back and kissed her face and the top of her breasts, floating out of the
water like islands.

   "I could never imagine doing something like this," she said.

   "Neither could I."

   "I thought you had lots of women?"

   "Sex and love aren't the same thing, you're my true love."

   He kissed her as she cried a little, as she often did when he became
romantic.  She hugged him and whispered in his ear how much she loved
him, all the while crying against his shoulder.  Steve got used to it after
awhile, and stroked her back and held her head, all the while thinking
that no man could ever understand what goes on in a woman's mind.

   He was amused at her reaction to his endearments, but he never let on
that sometimes he told her he loved her just to get her going, like
scratching a dog behind its hind leg for the amusement value of watching
it twitch.  But he was also touched by the depth of her emotions, and it
almost always led to great sex afterwards.  Today they were spent and
just hugged each other until they climbed out of the pool again, walking
down to the beach to dry off in the wind and the sun.

   Steve spent the rest of the day filling his frame pack for the trip while
Pauline napped outside on the bed, laying on her back with her legs
open, inviting the trade winds to caress her.  Food and water they could
gather on the fly, but he included a small wire rack for cooking and his
old bow and stick for starting fires.  His fabric climbing boots made the
list, and he included a pair of running shoes with the toes filled in with
a cut-up sock for Pauline.  They didn't fit her very well, but anything
was better than her clumsy old shoes, which had joined the scrap bin in
the shop as a source for leather.

   It was bound to rain once or twice, depending on how far they went,
so he packed a small tent and a sleeping bag, just to provide a cushion. 
He didn't expect they would have any need of warmth for sleeping, even
on the mountain.  But he packed two plastic jackets and a couple of knit
hats just in case.  The central peak appeared to be about five thousand
feet high, though there was no chance they could make the summit, the
vertical black core of the extinct volcano.  The west side of the mountain
was often covered in mist, and was obviously greener and wetter than the
east side, due to the prevailing winds.  If they kept to the east, the
climbing should be warm and dry.

   He set the pack in front of the house, draped the gun in its holster over
the top and went to join Pauline on the bed.  Her legs were spread wide
enough to allow him access to her pussy, so he kneeled next to her and
leaned down to lick it, trying to see how long he could work without
waking her up.  Pauline always tasted clean, at worst smelling a little
sweaty if she hadn't washed for a time, and her pussy was warm and
sweet in his mouth as he slowly drove his tongue between the lips,
sneaking up to the hood of her clitoris.

   Pushing his lips over the hood, he cupped his tongue around her nub
and pulsed gently, not licking it, just pressing against it.  He froze as she
stirred and shifted her position, moving with her to keep the same
contact.  She settled again, still sleeping, and he continued his motions.
Her clitoris came to life like a flower bud expanding, rising to greet his
tongue as he sucked it between his lips.  She began to lubricate and her
hips began twitching as he pressed harder, starting to circle the hood and
lick up underneath it in direct contact with her sensitive flesh.  

   He could feel her starting to rise to an orgasm and picked up the pace,
lashing her clit with his tongue, sucking it in and out of her lips.  She
woke up with a gasp at the same time she came, and he gripped her
bottom to keep her from moving away.  She slapped his butt and he
laughed in her pussy as she bucked in the bed, finally rolling away from
him, panting.

   He gave her no rest, lying beside her and lifting her leg, driving into
her wet pussy.  She came again immediately, stopping him for a moment
as his penis was trapped in her pussy, and then collapsed back on the bed
as he finished himself quickly, pounding into her from behind and crying
out as he came, filling her slack body with his sperm.  He lay beside her
and cupped her breasts, still engaged for the moment.

   "Ohh, that was a nice way to wake up, how long were you there?" she
asked.

   "Not too long, I wanted to see how long I could go without waking
you."

   "Did people in your day have as much sex as we do?"

   "Some of them maybe, but I think being naked as jaybirds all the time
has something to do with it."  

   Pauline laughed, "I remember the first time I saw you, how shocked
I was.  I didn't think I could ever be naked with a man like this."

   "That seems like a long time ago, I can't imagine living without you
now."

   "Steve, what's going to happen to us?  How long can we go on like
this do you think?  Will you still love me when by breasts are hanging
down like a cow's?"

    He was silent for moment, thinking about how he had regressed in
age.  How long could Landru keep them alive?  Not everything was
staying the same, the linens and towels were showing their age, and the
paint on the house was faded by the suns.  But the appliances and motor
bearings worked like new, and still not a light bulb had failed.  He
realized he hadn't answered her question when she kicked him.

   "Sorry, I was thinking, yes, I'll love you always, you know that."  He
kissed her ear and she giggled.

   "Even if they hang to the ground?"

   "I don't think you need to worry.  I told you, they're higher now than
when I first saw you."

   It was true, her breasts had definitely lifted and were more pointed
than before.  They stayed about the same size, still hugely out of
proportion to her body, but the nipples were now softer and more
defined, forming little cones on the ends of her breasts that were
delightful to suck.

   "That's why you agreed so quickly to my expedition, isn't it?" she
asked.  "You still want to find the machine."

   "No, it will be fun, I've never been up the mountain, and it's time we
did.  But I'm always on the lookout for some sign of anything unnatural
aside from what we brought with us."

   "Nothing yet?"

   "Not a sausage."

   "Hmmm, that sounds good, I could go for a sausage," she said.

   "I'm a little spent right now, can you wait?"

   "Very funny, one of these days maybe I'll eat you for real, just to get
some meat."

   "Well, think hard enough about it and maybe you'll find a pod tree in
your path one day, chickens and pigs hanging from it."

   The image of it caused Pauline to start laughing, and his limp penis
fell out of her as he scrambled for tissue, leaning over too far and falling
out of bed to the ground, causing her to break up again.  She began to
leak and rolled out of bed with her hands stemming the flow, tripping
over him as they both went down in a heap, laughing again.  The lay on
the tile and he kissed her knee where she scraped it, drawing a little
blood.

   "Well, you're injured now, I guess we can't go," he said.

   "I think I'll survive, I see you're already packed."

   "Everything I can think of, let's stay up late tonight and eat a full
meal, and we can leave when we wake up."

   "Do you think we can make love again before we go?"

   "I think we can arrange that,"  he said, and they lay back on the patio,
embracing and kissing.


Chapter 19   


   They started off the next morning, a little later than they planned,
delayed by a particularly satisfying session on the bed.  Steve wore the
frame pack, and Pauline took the backpack, filled with jars for spores. 
They walked along the stream bed, stopping to check the generator,
before reaching the old house site on top of the hill.

   The work they had done together at the site was paying off, the cedar
comfortably surrounded by a large pad of clay, ground cover competing
for the sun, covering the old foundation.  It no longer looked forlorn, but
green and alive.  The plants of their world and the planet kept to their
own ground still, neither invading the soil of the other.  They looked up
the trunk of the cedar, admiring the foliage moving in the breeze a
hundred feet up.  The cedar was a beacon for miles around; it was
impossible to get lost here.

   They stood at the brink of the valley, looking north to the peak in the
distance.  Steve had never been more than a few valleys beyond, and
considered the terrain in front of them.

    "It seems to me that if we walk down the valley and over that ridge
the ground should be easy on our feet," he said, pointing out the route.

   "Let's keep to the streams as much as we can, that's where the pods
will be," she said.

   "Right, but we'll have to cross over a few valleys to come up the east
flanks of the mountain, the west is too wet.  By the end of today we
should be over two valleys I think, that would be a good goal for now."

   "I don't want to hurry, let's check all the pods."

   "No hurry at all, there may be other delays," he said, tweaking her
bum.  She slapped his hand away, laughing.

   "None of that for you now, you wore me out this morning.  Let's
walk."

   It turned out she wasn't quite as worn out as she claimed, as it was
Pauline who caused the first delay, stroking Steve's penis to attention as
they lay by a stream, after taking a nap in the afternoon.  Steve rolled her
over and loved her from above, holding her hands over her head and
gazing into her eyes.  

   So far all the pod trees they found were familiar varieties, a little
difference in the inside fluids, but nothing particularly interesting.  They
climbed up a hill through the jungle and entered the next valley over,
which wound uphill and to the east, in the direction they were generally
headed.  

   They had to put on shoes to climb up a rocky slope beside the stream
as it splashed its way down beside them, spread out on the rocks, the
water finding paths between them.  At the top of the slope they found a
small flat valley where the stream had divided, draining from a pond at
the far end.  Between the stream beds was a thick grove of pod trees,
forty or fifty at least.  For the first time they found recently fallen pods,
the coconut crabs thick as they competed for the rich food source.

   Steve rested and drank while Pauline ran among the pod trees, excited
by the variety.  He smiled as he watched her, delighted at the sight of her
breasts bobbing along through the trees.

   "Steve!  Come here, look!."

   He splashed through the stream bed, and ran through the trees, his
hand reaching for the pistol involuntarily.  She was kneeling down on the
ground as he found her.

   "Anything wrong?"

   "No, look!"

   She was kneeling over a pod that had fallen to the ground and had
been split open by the crabs.  He could see where they had torn the skin
with their claws.  The insides of the pod were partially spilled on the
ground, and he could see it was a type of flour pod.  It was inside of the
pod that had excited Pauline; part of the contents were wet and bubbles
showed on the surface.

   "Yes, I see, you think it's infected?"

   "It smells right; here, try it," she said, dipping a finger into the liquid
and holding it up to his nose.  It did indeed smell like sourdough.

   "That's great, looks like you got your wish."  

   "I don't know about that, but if I can keep this going, maybe I can
bake you some bread."  

    She set down her pack and scooped some of the goo into a jar, sealing
the lid.

   "Do you want to go back?" he asked.

   "No, it will keep, I'll take some of the flour stuff from the pod and
add it over the next few days as we walk," she said.  "You can keep a
bread starter going forever like that."

    He smiled at her concentration as she packed a jar with the flour stuff,
thinking about the find.  It couldn't have been a coincidence, nothing was
on this planet.  But had Landru responded to her wishes or his alone? 
It was possible that the machine had read his mind, wanting Pauline to
succeed in her bread-making experiments.  It was also possible that it was
reacting to Pauline.  There was something unsettling about that, but he
couldn't put his finger on it.  Maybe I'm being jealous, he thought.

    He helped her check more of the pods in the valley, and they found
another ridged citrus variety that had a different taste, a cross between an
orange and a lime maybe.  Another oil variety had flesh that decayed into
a soft yellow-green putty, like the flesh of a ripe avocado.  It didn't
really taste like a avocado, but it was good enough to keep, and Pauline
collected spores of both for planting.  

    There were still a few hours of daylight left, but not enough to
establish a better camp for the night, so they laid out their things by the
pond upstream, and Steve captured crabs for dinner while Pauline made
up some citrus drinks in jars from the new pod tree.  After he cleaned the
crabs he made a fire with decayed stems from the jungle, and cooked
them on a wire grill he brought in the pack, suspended on rocks.  They
ate crab to bursting and then swam in the pond, floating on their backs,
holding hands.

    They spent the night smoking pot, making love and watching the sky,
finally falling to sleep after a long session on top of the sleeping bag,
Steve entering her from the rear as they lay on their sides, rubbing
Pauline's back.  Pauline fell asleep with a wad of tree tissue between her
legs, Steve spooning her back, holding a breast with his arm draped over
her.

    The next day they climbed up to the head of the draw and again had
to resort to boots and shoes to climb over a ridge to the next valley.  By
the time they reached a stopping point later that morning, they had
climbed up nearly a thousand feet, and the streams and hills below them
now opened up to the sea beyond.  They stopped for awhile and smoked
a joint, admiring the view.

   "Wow, I should have come up here before, it's beautiful," he said.
"Look at our cedar down there."

   "I can't see the house, it's hidden by the hill, but I can see the ends of
the bay."

   "Let's walk up through the jungle here, over to the next valley while
we can.  I know where we're at now, the next couple of valleys will get
us up another thousand feet up the east side."

   "How far have we come, do you think?" she asked.

   "Maybe fifteen miles, as the crow flies, if there was a crow.  We're
making good time, faster than I thought."

   "Hmmm, then let's slow down a bit," she said, reaching for his cock.


Chapter 20


   Climbing became more difficult in the next valley, and they had to
scramble over a long slope of broken rock to get over the ridge.  Pauline
was suffering from the oversized Nike's, and they stopped often to let her
feet rest.  They hurried to get off the rock and into the jungle as a rain
band moved overhead.  The remainder of the day they spent in the tent,
with predictable results, making love until dark, the rain spattering on the
fabric above them.

   "Let me rub some oil into your feet, keep your calluses from splitting."

   Pauline shifted over, finished cleaning her pussy off and tossed the tree
tissue out the front of the tent into the rain.

   "You can rub my feet all you want," she said, "but I probably have
more calluses somewhere else."

   "Yeah, but I'm the foot massage master, got my technique down, don't
be tickling or nothing."

   Pauline laughed.  "Why the funny voice?" 

   "Sorry, it's from a movie I haven't shown you yet."

   "You do that a lot, you'll have to show me all of them so I'll know
what you're talking about."

   "Some of them are violent and ugly, you ready for that?"

   "Maybe, I don't know."

   "Tired?" he asked, "miss your movies and hair dryer?"

   "A little."

   "Want to go home?"

   "Not yet, as long as we're here let's go as far as we can."

   Steve found the jar of pod oil in the pack and lay next to her, working
on the soles of her feet.

   "We're stuck here tonight, it's too rocky to risk walking, but it will be
dry pretty soon."

   "I don't care," she said, "just keep doing that."

   He thought about the next few days as he rubbed her feet.  If he was
right, the next valley would lead them about as far as they could go
inland without doing some serious climbing.  The pod trees were thinning
out as they gained elevation, and it wasn't as warm.

   There wasn't much point in going on except for better views.  But
Pauline had been resolute about continuing on, and he couldn't think of
any reason not to humor her.  He was enjoying the climb himself, it was
novel to feel boots on his feet and a pack on his back, even if normally
he didn't hike with his penis hanging out back on earth.  Still, living in
tent city didn't compare with sleeping on the beach back at the bluff.

   They slept as much as they could until the rain passed, and spent the
rest of the night playing with each other, stopping a couple of times to
walk up the ridge to a small waterfall to clean off, Pauline shrieking from
the cold water.  They caught a few crabs, quite a bit smaller up this high,
and cooked them as the yellow sun brightened the sky.

   The next valley was indeed promising, and they could see it
meandering well up above them, petering out maybe five hundred feet in
elevation from where they stood.  They walked the ridge slope at a gentle
angle, keeping to soft ground, until they met another stream, splashing
down in cascades over the rocks.  The best walking appeared to be on the
other side, so they crossed the stream into the jungle, following it uphill
through the fern trees.  

   They made steady progress all day, stopping as they needed for
bathroom breaks or food.  They only saw one pod tree all day, but it was
a good one, a cream variety, that provided lunch and more.  By setting
out the broken pod they attracted a number of crabs, and caught the
biggest couple for roasting, enjoying the hot meat while sitting on a rock
looking down to the sea, twenty miles to the east.  Their own bay was
now blocked by hills to the south.  They were reaching the end of the
road.

   "Pauline, why don't we head back?  We're too high for pod trees, and
the crabs are running out.  It looks like tough climbing above."

   "We can still walk without shoes here," she said, "let's go on up this
valley, see what the top looks like, then we can decide."

   "Whatever pleases you . . ."

   ". . . just tickles you plumb to death, I know.  Another movie line,
right?"

   "Yeah, but I don't have it my collection, so you'll never know I'm
afraid."

   "Come on, the day's wasting," she said, urging him up.

   The walking turned out to be easy for another mile up the valley,
before it came to a plateau beneath a black rock wall, maybe four
hundred foot tall, laid back into the hill with the stream running down in
tendrils, the spray causing a shimmering rainbow in the air.  They stood
looking up above them from the edge of the jungle, panting from the
exertion of the last steep climb up.

   "Wow, that's something to see," he said, "but climbing it is out of the
question.  It's all a rock scramble, and it would be easy for one of us to
fall."

   "What about over to the right, it looks like jungle all the way to the
top."

   "Yeah, but it's bound to be as steep, look at how the top curves
around."

   The vegetation did run up the wall to their right, but it was easy to
make out the lip of a shelf that ran from a rock spur to their left all the
way over beyond their line of sight to the right.  It was likely that
climbing up a soil incline that steep would be more dangerous than rock. 
Landru looked after them, sure, but what if he broke a leg this far from
home?  How could Pauline get him down, or find enough food while he
healed?  It was foolish to go on.

   "Let's walk up to the foot of the hill at least, see what it looks like,"
she said.

   Steve didn't want to argue with her, so he followed behind as she led
the way, keeping to the vegetation at the side of the stream.  They
walked up a small incline to the right and came out into a flat space that
sloped gently up to the face of the slope.  This is where we camp tonight,
he thought, the end of the line.  It was a spectacular spot, the stream
leaping down the rocks to their left and the whole world spread out
below them.

   He sat down for a rest while Pauline continued up the jungle line.  She
yelled for him and he turned around quickly, seeing her waving her arms
and motioning him up.  He dropped the pack and walked up slope to
where she stood.

   "Look at this," she said as he reached her, "it may be a way up."   

   "Well, I'll be damned, look at that."

    It was cut in the wall that ran up a good hundred feet, paved with soft
vegetation and a series of broken rock every few yards.  Water had
obviously flowed down the cut, and the tops of the rocks were smooth
and covered with puddles.  The bottom of the channel entered a cut in
the rock face directly below their feet, the water flowing off to join the
stream below. 

   "It looks like an overflow channel," he said, "active whenever it rains. 
There must be a pool up above that floods after a storm."

   "Let's go up," she said, practically bouncing in excitement.

   Steve was subdued as he looked into the cut.  There was something he
didn't like about it.  He turned around as Pauline was running downhill
to retrieve the pack.  There's no way you could just find this, he thought. 
The opening couldn't even be seen from the ground below.  You would
have to be standing just exactly on this spot.  Four foot over one way or
the other and it would be completely missed.

   He walked down a few feet and observed how the cut disappeared in
the jungle.  It was easier to stand off to the left or right, the footing was
much better, and in neither location could the cut be seen.  You could
spend a day here and never find it.

   He took the pack from Pauline as she ran up, out of breath, stepping
carefully over the crack in the rocks where the water ran out, helping her
across.

   "Why don't you go up first," he said, "I'll follow behind to catch you
if you slip."

   "You just want to watch my bottom," she laughed.

   "That too," he smiled back briefly.

   She looked at him as if she had something to say, but turned and
moved up the cut, following it up the rock face using her hands on either
wall to support her.  Steve followed a step or two behind, watching her
steps.  The cut sloped up to the right, cutting into and across the rock
face, and the walls grew steeper around them.  It was spooky, like
walking into a cave.  

   Finally they came to a bend and had to squeeze between a couple of
rocks before stepping out into a hole in the rock filled with water, a wall
in front of them fifty foot away, water dripping over the edge.  There
was no way up now, the wall was completely vertical, undercut a little
at the bottom where the water had splashed.

   "Sorry, dear, nice try," he said, "but it looks like a dead end."  He was
actually relieved for some reason that the cut hadn't worked.

   "What about over to the right, there might be a way."

   Steve looked to where she was pointing, but there didn't appear to be
anything but rock and vegetation climbing up above them.

   "I don't see anything," he said.

   "Let's walk around the pond and see."

   He didn't say anything in reply, but followed her around the edge of
the pond.  During the rain storm this must have been a surging cauldron
of water, he thought, noting the smooth stone wall to his right.  Where
was she going?  He followed her along the wall until it broke up into
jumble rock, covered with jungle.

   "Look, I told you," she said, pointing in front of them.  She ran over
the last ten foot and turned to the right, disappearing between two rocks.

   "Wait, slow down," he said, rushing to where she had entered the rock. 
He looked up and could see her naked bottom ten foot above him,
climbing a smooth series of rocks between two walls, leading all the way
up to blue sky at the top.  She was already at the top by the time he was
half way, whooping and hollering at him to hurry up.

   He came up the last few steps and looked out above him, Pauline
pulling him up.  What he saw took his breath away.  They were standing
at the rocky shore of a lake, probably three miles long, leading back into
the arms of the mountain above them.  At the end of the lake a waterfall
cascaded from a rock cut above, five hundred feet at least.  Walls of rock
sloped up above them on either side of the lake, making it dark in the
afternoon light, the sun already down in the west over the peak.  A small
island stood out in the middle, a quarter mile from where they stood.

   "Isn't it beautiful," she said, "look at the view."

   He turned around and looked behind him, the eastern valleys below
leading to the sea in a haze of mist below from the overflow stream. 
Pauline was bouncing around, pulling at him, excited by her find.  

   "It's grand, Pauline, you were lucky to find this."  

   Very lucky, he thought.


Chapter 21

   
   They camped on a soft bit of ground above the lake, giving them
views back up to the waterfall and to the east.  The day had warmed up
after the residual clouds and mist from the rain band dissipated, but the
elevation and the afternoon shade combined for a cool evening.  They
huddled together around a small fire, roasting the few small crabs they
had been able to find.  They had to dip into their supply of dried conch
they brought along in case of emergencies, soaking them first and then
grilling the strips.  It was far less luxurious than their usual fare, but food
didn't seem important to either of them.

   Pauline was in a bright mood, excited to have found the lake, taking
pictures with his digital camera until the battery charge gave out.  Steve
however was subdued, letting Pauline do most of the talking, having to
be coaxed into a chilly swim in the lake.  Pauline started to play with
him after they dried off, but he wasn't in the mood and didn't respond. 
She gave up after a minute and lay next to him, looking up at the stars
beginning to show.

   "Steve, you okay?"

   "Sure, just tired, that's all, we didn't sleep much today."

   "It's too bad there's no food here, we'll have to go down tomorrow I
suppose," she said.  "Steve, you awake?"

   "Hmm?  Sorry, woolgathering.  Yeah, it's pretty but the crabs like the
heat.  They died out pretty quickly as I went north."

   "I suppose we should get some sleep, it should be quite a sight later
tonight."

   "I'll unzip the sleeping bag and we can use the tent fabric as a cover.
It should be warm enough."

   Steve laid out the bag as a pad and covered Pauline up with the fabric,
crawling underneath and giving her a quick peck on the cheek.  He could
see that Pauline was uneasy about his mood, but she was tired from the
hike and went to sleep soon enough, while he looked up at the sky,
thinking.

   After awhile he eased himself from under the tarp and tucked it around
her, walking down the shore through some bush-like plants to stand on
the edge of the rock lip, the noise from the stream off to his right.  The
breeze lifted air from below up the side of the rock, and he was warmer
here than back by the lake.  He brushed some loose rocks from the
ground and sat down, going through the day in his head.

   Eliminate the impossible and the remaining solution is the truth, he
thought, basic Sherlock Holmes.  It was possible, barely, that Pauline
could have found the first passage through the rock below.  But not only
was the second cut invisible from the pool below, she had lied to him
about seeing it.  He had stood where she claimed to have seen the cut,
and there was nothing, just vegetation and rock.  You had to walk right
over to the opening to see it.

   Then there was her insistence on climbing the valley in the first place. 
If she was interested in hunting for pods, the place to do so was in the
valleys below, to the east, where they hadn't explored, not up high on the
mountain.  The views were nice, sure, but nothing had really changed
from the lower vantages.  

   She knew the lake was here, he thought.  How?  The simplest
explanation was usually correct.  He shuddered as he considered the
possibilities.  There was one explanation that fit the circumstances, and
it made him sick at heart; Pauline wasn't real.  She was like a pod tree,
something the machine had given him, a salve for his despair.

   Something had been troubling him from the start, but he had buried it
deep inside.  He had to accept that it was possible for Landru to move
him physically through space, he was here after all, and felt real enough. 
But time travel, that just wasn't possible, so far as he recalled.  It made
a great fantasy for him.  He imagined what life would be like with a
female from his time; educated, aware, self-confident, maybe even
dominant.  There wouldn't have been any of the long seduction dance
that had frustrated but thrilled him at the same time.

    Was it possible that Pauline was real, snatched from time somehow,
and that the knowledge of the this place had been instilled by Landru? 
Yes, that was possible.  Was it likely that it would do so, somehow beat
time for him?  Or was it more likely it had spent the time building a
construct, a playmate for him.  She was after all his ideal in a woman,
blonde, very busty, beautiful, short, compliant by nature.  Was Landru in
Pauline?  The thought of their love making suddenly made him feel sick.

   He was turning over these thoughts when he heard the bushes rustle
behind him, and turned around to see what he knew he would, Pauline
standing in the starlight, staring at him with a worried look.  She walked
over and sat down next to him, looking out over the cliff, avoiding his
face.

   "You have something to say," he said.

   "It's beautiful, the night and the stars."

   "Are they real, Pauline?"

   "I don't know what you mean," she said, but her eyes looked away.

   "I think you do.  You knew about this place."  He looked over at her,
and when she didn't reply, he turned her face to him.  "You knew about
this place."

   "No, please," she cried, turning away and burying her face in her
hands, sobbing.  "You mustn't think of me that way."

   He grabbed her roughly and turned her around, shaking her, "who are
you, what are you?"

   Her eyes flew open, streaming tears.  "I'm Pauline, what do you
mean?"

   "You're Pauline?  A simple farm girl from my past.  Then how did
you know this lake existed?  Why did you lie to me?"

   "I didn't . . . I guessed, I saw it, before."

   "Before?"

   "Before you were here. He showed me, it showed me."

   She broke down in sobs and he let her go, sitting back in wonder at
her words.  After a moment he cradled her in his arms, and let her finish
crying. 

   "Alright, I'm sorry Pauline, take your time, tell me about it."

   "I wanted to before, when I remembered.  It didn't come back all at
once, it was like a dream.  I didn't want to hurt you."

   "How could you hurt me?  Just tell me what happened to you."   He
was intensely curious now; had she met the mysterious overseer, the thing
he called Landru?

   "It was just like I told you.  One minute I was walking and then I was
here.  But I wasn't where you found me, I don't know where I was."  

   Her eyes looked puzzled, but peering into them Steve believed she was
being truthful.  "Go on."

   "I wasn't awake and I wasn't asleep.  I don't know where I was, I
never saw anything, except . . . in my mind, like a dream.  It spoke to
me."

   "It?"

   "Just a voice, or not a voice, like a thought.  It told me things, showed
me things, about this place, everything here.  I remembered it all after a
few weeks.  It was . . . a long time.  A very long time.  It didn't want
me to be alone"

   He let her sit for a minute, rocking her in his arms.  "Why, Pauline,
why did it bring you to this planet, did it tell you?''

   "Yes, the book."

   An uncomfortable feeling began gnawing at Steve's guts.  "What
book?"

   "Typee," she said.  "It was my favorite.  I used to dream about it,
being on a tropical island."

   
    Steve knew the book well.  It was Herman Melville's first book, a
sensation in its day.  During Pauline's time every library was likely to
have a copy, but hardly any would carry his most famous work, Moby
Dick, a book that was ignored until long after the author's death. 
Melville had described in the book a sailor's time spent in a near paradise
in the South Seas, championing what was called paganism, and scourging
missionaries and the blight of civilization.

   She dreamed about a tropical island, he thought.  And running water,
electricity, moving pictures and - a man.

   "Let me get this straight," he said.  "You dreamed of being in a
tropical paradise, instead of being a farm wife in Iowa.  The machine, the
caretaker, he found you, through your dreams?"

   "It wanted to make me happy.  It had what I wanted, or could make
it so."

   "And me, where do I fit in?"

   She looked up at him, grabbing his arms.  "I'm sorry.  I'm responsible
for you being here, I guess.  It didn't bring me here for you . . ."

   "It brought me here, for you," he said.  He laughed out loud, falling
back on the ground.  "Time travel," he said, getting hold of himself,
"isn't possible.  I should have known, it was all there."

   Pauline looked on with concern, but Steve sat up and kissed her.  "I'm
sorry for what I said, I was a fool."

   "You're not angry with me?"

   "Of course not.  You're not responsible for the whims of an alien
machine.  It held you, didn't it, in a kind of suspended animation."

   "I don't know what you mean," she said.

   "Like the space movies we've seen, the crew of the spaceship in a
chamber, sleeping."  

   Pauline nodded her head, thinking about the movies.  "Like that, but
not asleep, not really."

   "What else do you remember?  Tell me everything." 

   She sat for a moment, considering the time she had spent with the
thing Steve called Landru.  "There isn't much to tell.  It told me why I
was here, and gave me a choice."

   "To stay or return home?"

   "Yes.  It made me aware of the beach, the mountain, the rivers.  It was
when you showed me the bluff, your home, that I first began to
remember.  I had seen it before, or rather I knew it.  Later when you
showed me the pictures of your boat trip, I knew what I would see, the
ice."

   "Why didn't you say something at the time?"

   "I don't know.  Something held me back.  You believed I came for
you."

   "When actually my role was the bringer of running water and moving
pictures, the handyman, the jack of all trades, the gardener."  Steve
laughed again.  "Men are self centered creatures, even at the ends of the
universe."

   "Those things aren't important," she said.  "I wanted you here."

   "I'm glad.  But tell me more, what else did it show you?"

   She sat and thought for a moment.  "Just thoughts.  I felt the years
passing and it seemed to be forever, I felt trapped and desperate.  It came
and showed me time, how long it had been sleeping, and from that
moment to the day I came here seemed to pass in an instant.  It was
horrible to be alone, all those years.  It's not something I want to think
about."

   "But what about it, where is it, what is it?  Did it show you the
machinery, the space it lives in, anything?"

   "No, I'm sorry.  I lived in a dream, just thoughts, no pictures, not even
the beach or this place, just thoughts about them.  I knew these places,
but I never really saw them."

   Steve sat for awhile, holding Pauline against his chest, caressing her
hair and back.  So here we are, he thought, back to square one.  Aside
from the cosmic joke my ego played on me, we know no more about
Landru than my guesses.  At least I understand the size of my unit a little
better, he laughed to himself.  

   They held each other without speaking for a time, and then walked
back through the bushes and up the shore of the lake to where their bed
lay.  The air was warmer now than earlier in the evening, the warm
jungle air washing back up the peak.  He pulled her down and lay by her
side, and she regained her mood slowly, brushing back her hair.

   "Hmmm, it's warm," she said. "Are you okay?"

   "Never better, but I'm tired, I didn't sleep."  His penis had brushed up
against her as he moved an arm over her to fondle her breast.

   "Part of you isn't tired anyway, come here."  

   She rolled over on her back and pulled his face to hers, and they
kissed with passion.  He pulled himself up and entered her, finding her
moist and ready.  They made love by the lake as the galaxy shown
overhead onto the planet, onto her planet, Planet Pauline.



The end. 



About Pauline:

   The girl in my mind for this story is the great Pauline Hickey, a big
bust model from the 80's.  Pretty girls with really large natural breasts
are very rare, and to convince those girls to pose nude at the height of
their ripeness, rarer still.  You can count the really spectacular girls of the
modern age of men's magazines on one or two hands; Roberta Pedon
definitely, Mary Waters and Karen Brown if you're into plump women
(oh yeah), and then there's Pauline - wisps of blonde hair, the prettiest
face of any girl next door, a good bottom, nice legs and tummy - and
huge globular breasts to provide a shelf for a few waves of her tresses. 
   
   She was a "Page Three" girl discovered by a photographer from Gent
magazine, and the bulk of her work, no more than five or six layouts,
appeared there.  At first she wouldn't take off her knickers, and the only
surviving film of her (two loops, and the "Kiss-O-Gram Girls") was from
her shy period.  Before she disappeared, the photographer talked her out
of her panties, and she produced a couple of memorable photo sets that
still stir my fantasies.  Where is she now?  Happy I hope, fortyish,
probably married with kids and bobbed breasts, I would guess, that kind
of beauty doesn't last long before gravity takes it toll.  All I know is that
men will be dreaming of her when the pyramids are dust.  But you can
find her all over the net.  Here's a link to a free set of pictures, if you'd
like to have an image to go along with the story:


http://www.carl2.connectfree.co.uk/MAG%20THUMB(PAULINE%20
HICKEY).htm



This story carries the codes: (MF cons rom scifi)

The code, "MF", means that an adult man has sex with an adult female,
and "cons" means that the sex is consensual.  "Rom" means romantic. 

For other codes, and how they can help you find the stories you 
want, see: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/code/scfr.htm


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