Message-ID: <48363asstr$1088766605@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Mail-Format-Warning: No previous line for continuation: Wed Aug 14 16:30:23 2002Return-Path: <dai_wakizashi@hotmail.com> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Originating-Email: [dai_wakizashi@hotmail.com] From: "dai_wakizashi" <dai_wakizashi@hotmail.com> X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1409 X-Original-Message-ID: <BAY2-DAV17kvAdxaQ6s00032299@hotmail.com> X-OriginalArrivalTime: 01 Jul 2004 22:35:43.0507 (UTC) FILETIME=[BEA2A630:01C45FBB] x-no-archive: yes x-archive-expire: 2004-12-31 x-assm-no-berne-warning: no x-no-archive: yes x-archive-expire: 2004-12-31 x-assm-no-berne-warning: no x-no-archive: yes x-archive-expire: 2004-12-31 x-assm-no-berne-warning: no x-no-archive: yes x-archive-expire: 2004-12-31 x-assm-no-berne-warning: no x-no-archive: yes x-archive-expire: 2004-12-31 x-assm-no-berne-warning: no X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 2 Jul 2004 00:36:56 +0200 Subject: {ASSM} REV Tales from an Unknown Corner 01-20 {Dai_wakizashi} (MF, FF, MFF, cons, rom, an, or, toys, pet) Lines: 17651 Date: Fri, 2 Jul 2004 07:10:05 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2004/48363> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: hoisingr, IceAltar <1st attachment, "tfauc-pt-00.txt" begin> Author: Dai_wakizashi Title: Tales from an Unknown Corner Part: Intro Summary: Story of a young man trying to find a path, and love Keywords: MF, FF, MFF, oral, anal, toys, petting, romance, drama Revision: 2.0 Web Sites: ASSTR- http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/dai_wakizashi/www/ SOL- http://storiesonline.net/home.php EWP- http://www.ewpub.org/ewpub.html Discussion Forum: http://www.ewpub.org/messageboard/viewforum.php?f=76 ***************************************************************** STANDARD DISCLAIMER This piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment. It contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT read any further. All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to any persons, places, individuals or situations is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities described in this story. This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author, Dai_wakizashi (dai_wakizashiAThotmailDOTcom). This story may be freely distributed with this disclaimer attached. Copyright (c) 2003-2004 Dai_wakizashi. All rights reserved. ***************************************************************** AUTHOR'S NOTE *** Important Warning *** I urge any potential reader to READ this note before reading "Tales from an Unknown Corner." I went to the trouble of putting the following together to help you get more than you might by diving blindly into the story. Perhaps, the following might tell you, why I prepared this note: I'm, one of those impulsive people, who would rather tackle the job of setting up the new stereo without first consulting the bloody Manual, and I usually get burned for my fool-hardiness. If you want to move to the story without first reading these notes, then: "Good luck! Just don't come back whining or flaming me, because you've been warned!" ***************************************************************** FOREWORD Before I delve into some explanations, I want to make one thing very clear, so that readers with certain expectations are not disappointed! *** This is NOT a 'stroke' story! *** It contains some very explicit and--I'm told--hot scenes; but they are there for the purposes of a plot. Some of those are very short, some are very long, and their frequency varies a lot; nevertheless, they are there, as the story codes indicate! If you're looking for a story with people hopping from bed to bed, and getting it on with each other at every turn of the page, I suggest that you look elsewhere (there's an abundance of such). You might not get very much enjoyment from reading this story. Having said that, I have to note, I would like to be read by a wider audience--as any other author 'would'. However, I also know that the individual tastes vary 'a lot', and I don't want to waste the time of people with something they might not be interested in. To illustrate my point... I would like to invite the readers--who might still be 'skeptical' or think I'm being arrogant or presumptuous--to read the first two chapters, and compare them to the contents of, say, Chapter-7 (which contains an example of 'stroke' material) as an example. Please, do 'understand' that I'm not issuing a 'challenge', but trying as best as I can, to make my point. Of course, the apparent difference between those chapters might also serve to give you a feel for this story, and allow you to make up your mind--a chance for a somewhat 'informed' choice! Very early on, I've made certain decisions about how I want to 'write' and 'tell' this story, and I am not willing to compromise either on the style or on the plot line. What's more, I wrote it (and am writing it) for myself in the first place. And, I am just inviting you to a journey--please do keep in mind that I invite you, 'only', if you want 'to' take part in the journey--in the hopes that some of you might enjoy this particular trip. If you did not or do not enjoy the trip, I'd like to thank you for at least taking the time to give it a try and partake in it for a short time. And, I extend my best wishes to you in your search for something that is more to your liking. Having given this little heads up, and the warning out of the way, now, I can get back to what I wanted to say... I've said, "This is not a 'stroke' story." Then, what is it? *** This is a 'romance' story! *** This is a story with a plot, a mixture of complex characters, drama, romance, and a bit of action. It uses--what I believe--a somewhat unique style of narration; a very intimate, first person POV, that allows the reader a very direct view of the protagonist's inner world. I think some readers might even be inclined to call it an almost "in-your-face" kind of style, but I'm hoping that, once you've finished a few chapters, you might appreciate certain aspects of the narration. At times, it develops very slowly, and at times, it's fast paced. There are great variations in the tempo, and I would like to urge the reader to take his/her time, because there are small hints, and details that tie together to form a complex structure, filling in the pieces of a puzzle picture, and, some of those hints are very subtle, almost innocuous, and easy to miss. I'm not sure whether it would put off some of the readers, but my aim is to involve the reader in a journey, and get him/her invested in the story, and the characters. Thus, it requires a bit of work from the readers--No! Not like homework. I meant it in the sense that if you missed the pointers, you might not be able to connect the dots, consequently miss some parts of the picture I'm trying to paint, which might lessen your enjoyment. I'm hoping that, with this little warning, you might be inclined to look a bit below what's on the surface, and try to see the underlying currents--and if you're the kind of reader that enjoys little mysteries, solving puzzles, you might find some added spice, flavor in this particular story. After the first two chapters, the story changes dramatically, so do not expect the atmosphere of chapter-1 or chapter-2, to be the prevalent atmosphere. What's more, even though I explicitly stated in the narration and alluded to it (although somewhat innocuously) in chapter-2, there's a time gap of "one year" between the two chapters, which might take you by surprise if you miss it. Side note: some readers mentioned, in their feedback, that they missed that particular detail, and they had to go back and re-read chapter-2 to understand the sudden, almost abrupt changes taking place. Chapters 1 and 2 are introductions, and lay the ground work for what is to come--the basement, if you will--and even though I've been told those chapters were a bit of a difficult read for most of the readers, I've decided not to change them. Because, the majority of--my small but dedicated cadre of--readers acknowledge that, in the light of what's revealed in the later chapters, the first two chapters play a very pivotal role. ***************************************************************** SUMMARY of the STORY It is a story of an angry and hurt young man, who still carries that excess baggage with him, and his journey to find some answers, a path, and perhaps eventually friendship, love, and happiness. You'll learn about his past, and follow his journey at present. You'll get to meet the people around him, who cross his path, and sometimes, give shape to his journey. It's a long journey, filled with many twists and turns; momentary happiness, and times of hurt and anger, and at times contemplative. ***************************************************************** CREDITS Several people are involved with this work apart from me as the author. Two individuals, Rob and Terry, have been editing this work, and continue to do so. Earlier, there were a few more editors, who have begged off due to various other commitments. But, ALL of them have my sincere thanks and gratitude for their part in making this story what it is. Without their help, certainly, this project wouldn't even have taken off nor would have continued this far. For quite some time, I was planning to re-edit the older material (chapters 1-20), and having revised them I needed some help to get the text checked. Because my editors are already busy with new material, a few readers had been kind enough to respond to my request, and helped me. Kevin, and a few others who prefer to remain anonymous have my thanks and gratitude for a job well done. Guys, thank you, thank you very much! And finally, a quick word or two on availability... ***************************************************************** AVAILABILITY and PRESENTATION ASCII is not suited for this story, because the original text (in html) makes use of styles that makes it easier to read it. Italics and emphasis are very difficult to convey in the world of simple ASCII presentation. I have used "_" to indicate italic words (emphasis), and all-italics paragraphs (inner thoughts), which sometimes seem a bit visually cluttered or distracting (in ASCII). If you really want to experience the full flavor, and a better and comfortable read, I would recommend you to try the HTML version of this story at any one of the three web sites it is being published (with almost regular weekly posts). This story is being posted at three web sites; ASSTR: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/main.html SOL: http://storiesonline.net/home.php EWP: http://www.ewpub.org/ewpub.html Among the three, ASSTR gives me the most flexibility in controlling the presentation, and I genuinely believe that the copy being published at ASSTR might surprise you--I've tried to give a "book feel", to make your reading experience as enjoyable as possible. Of course, the others (SOL, and EWP) are also very good, but I don't have much control over the presentation. In addition, all the sites have facilities for anonymous communication; that is, if you ever feel like dropping a line or two after reading my rants here, or parts of the story! ;-p So... if you're still interested... why don't you turn the page to chapter-1? ;~p} Dai_wakizashi July 01, 2004, The Netherlands <1st attachment end> <2nd attachment, "tfauc-pt-01.txt" begin> Title: Tales from an Unknown Corner Chapters: 01-05 (of 20) Author: Dai_wakizashi Universe: Tfauc Summary: Journey of a troubled young man looking for a path and people around him, who, at times, give shape to his journey. Codes: MF, FF, MFF, oral, anal, toys, petting, romance, drama Status: in progress Revision: 2.0 Web Sites: ASSTR- http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/dai_wakizashi/www/ SOL- http://storiesonline.net/home.php EWP- http://www.ewpub.org/ewpub.html Discussion Forum: http://www.ewpub.org/messageboard/viewforum.php?f=76 ***************************************************************** STANDARD DISCLAIMER This piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment. It contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT read any further. All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to any persons, places, individuals or situations is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities described in this story. This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author, Dai_wakizashi (dai_wakizashiAThotmailDOTcom). This story may be freely distributed with this disclaimer attached. Copyright (c) 2003-2004 Dai_wakizashi. All rights reserved. ***************************************************************** TALES FROM AN UNKNOWN CORNER [Tfauc] CHAPTER - 1: A Little War Game _I don't need this shit!_ My anger was slow to rise but it sure was making steady progress. The same old argument... same discussions... it's always been the same thing. _What the fuck I was doing in this God-forsaken place?_ _Helllooo! That's what I do for a living. It's my job. This is where I work._ But it wasn't as simple as that. It never was. At the back of my mind, I knew that. I couldn't even say what I thought. Just, "Yes, Sir. I understand your concern. Yes, Ma'am. I know you are worried, but there is nothing to worry about." _Well... that didn't work this time, did it?_ How could it? All my explanations, and counter-arguments to placate them and still... they sounded hollow! Even to my ears. I stepped in my office cabin, slamming the door shut. I felt like tearing something to pieces. As I stood fuming there, my gaze systematically going over items in the room, categorizing them for suitability, my mind was still busy with the telephone call and the source of my anger. There was no way I could make them understand or convince them. Not with last week's attack. _Shit! That's never happened before._ Oil rigs, and production stations were almost exempt from all the attacks; private sector stuff, but especially the foreign investments. With last week's attack that changed. Everything changed. Nobody knew the rules of the game anymore, or if this was an entirely new game. My parents knew that as well. If not, they must have realized the change in trend after that attack. Why did I expect them to understand anything? They were parents! Of course, they were worried. Especially after this last incident. It was in the papers. Previously, it was soldiers ambushed, government officials attacked, civilians in government service killed. Now, an oil rig was attacked--private foreign investment. I didn't want them worried, but unless I packed and returned home, there was no way I could get them off my back. That was unacceptable. They had tried to run my life before, but not to this extent! That left several options; cut off my contact with them, or read them the riot act. Full confrontation; they could take it or leave it. _Is it time... to burn my remaining bridges?_ I didn't want to contemplate that. Not now. It was too early for that, and a plunge I didn't want to take. Their health was not what it used to be, and I didn't want to be the cause of something else--as if I didn't carry enough with me! However, in my current frame of mind my anger was taking over me. I was dangerously close to releasing my fury, unchecked, on whoever happened to be in my way, parents or not, and the temptation to do something like that had never been so great as now. I was trying to cope with it myself, trying to understand this new development; not that there was much to cope with it. After a while you get used to it, and don't think about it. And that was all there is to it. Nothing more, nothing less. You keep your eyes open, and carry on. Sometimes, there was a mild adrenaline rush associated with it, feeling alive, and pumped up. On very rare occasions I didn't care much, one way or another; when I was too tired to keep the anger burning, and my demons were visiting me, trying to invade the emptiness inside, but they were few and far between. _Damn it! Enough is enough. Don't you understand? I need some breathing room! I don't need this shit from you. I already have enough on my mind._ I was almost tempted to say these exact words on the phone, to my dad and mom. Jeeez!!! I don't know how I managed to keep my temper in check. I was sorely tempted to utter those very words to make them understand... _My job. My life. My decision. End of story! End of argument! That's the way things are!_ But, I knew that wouldn't help. They would never understand or accept it. They were worried sick, and in panic. They would have gone off the deep end. But, I had had enough of all the quarrels. How could they know what it was costing me every time I had to take their worries into consideration when I had to make a decision? When the hell was I going to be able to live my fucking life? When? It wasn't just frustrating, it was driving me nuts! And, it was very tiring, psychologically draining, as if I didn't have enough problems keeping my sanity. As if... as if I didn't feel like burning all my bridges. _Don't! Don't go there! Therein lay madness!_ _If I hadn't called them..._ But that was wishful thinking, wouldn't have solved anything. Worse, they would have been even more worried. Now, I understood what fighting with one hand tied meant. _Fuck! I've been fighting with both hands tied! It's been like that since the day I arrived here, three years ago. Uphill fight all along. Every bloody week the same question: "When are you going to leave that place and find a job here?"_ The problem wasn't finding a job back at home. I didn't fit in. Not there. Not in a 9-to-5 job, where people had regular schedules, regular lives, and socialized. There wasn't anything that could keep me busy, or challenge me to drive myself as hard in that world. Besides, I didn't want to be caged in an office, with harsh fluorescent lighting, stupid office politics, petty jealousies and the gossiping. I had too much excess baggage. I had too much hurt and pain. I just wanted to be away, far away from anything that had been familiar, away from the hurt and pain, anything that reminded... I knew that. They knew that, even if they didn't understand it. And, there was just too much emptiness inside me. What little warmth left inside me was within a protective shell--too fragile to be exposed to the ravages of the past. I didn't know how to deal with that. So, I filled the emptiness with anger, to keep the pain, and hurt at bay. I wasn't angry at people, or the world, although from outside, it probably looked like that-- _Wasn't it what some friends said at the time; "Why are you so angry?"_--I was angry at myself. It was the only thing that kept me moving. Smoldering inside me, always under tight control, and never allowed free reign, unless provoked. But, keeping busy helped, using up all the untapped energy of my anger. _Don't you get it? I have a job. One that I enjoy. Better yet, it keeps me busy, so I don't dwell on... past... history. It keeps me away from the pain and hurt. OK?_ _Do I have to spell it out?_ _You want to hear it?_ _OK! Here we go. Repeat after me, until you've got it crystal clear. I don't ever wanna set foot back there, not even at my beloved beach. Got it? It's history. I don't want any part of it. I just want to forget it all, forget it ever happened, erase it from my memory._ There was no way I was going to say it. Hell, they knew it. Well, parts of it, anyway. They saw some of it happen, but we never talked about it. Why talk about it? It happened in plain sight of most everybody. They just didn't know about the details... they didn't need to. Some things were better left where they are. Sometimes, saying "better leave some things where they are," hurt. The point is, it happened. They were willing to act as if it never happened... but of course, they never really understood it, did they? They thought it would blow over. I once thought as they did. Otherwise, why did I tell them it was a temporary job when I signed the contract. I thought it would be a matter of months, and I would be back. I thought I wouldn't be able to stay far away from that beach--my beloved beach--or for that matter any beach, and the sea for so long. Just a little bit of a time- out... to regroup. But I did. I was here. It had been three years, and I didn't see an end yet. Sand, and rock, and dusty wind beneath an angry sun, and knee deep in snow, in icy cold. There was a stark beauty in this desolate, empty expanse, but I seldom noticed that beauty; perhaps only on those rare occasions when my subconscious drew parallels between this empty expanse and the emptiness inside me. Most of the time, I didn't care much for the place. It wasn't home, never going to be one, and I wasn't looking for one. Winters were more bearable; the cold numbing me, and my senses, giving me a brief respite from dwelling on the emptiness inside me, or my anger, or all the other hurtful things I tried to keep at bay. The hypnotic quality of the softly falling snow, slowly covering the rig with a white blanket; the sound of engines and heavy machinery muffled by the large flakes that kept falling like confetti, drifting down like Autumn leaves on an October afternoon. I would stand outside my cabin, and watch it for hours on end, finding some kind of peace in the serenity of the scene-- if only for a while. Still, it was nothing like my beach, like that particular shore. At times, I missed my beach, any beach, something fierce. Those times, how I wished I could say, "I hardened my heart and forged on." _I just don't know how much of a heart I have. I don't even know if it would pass for one, or be called as such._ As my gaze kept looking for something to expel my anger and frustration, sadness filled me at the realization of how lonely I felt. Abandoned, even by the people who were supposed to... _Can it ever get lonelier than this? If they aren't willing to listen, if they aren't willing to understand what I feel, what I want._ _Just leave me alone, let me do what I want!_ And yet, I had to comfort and reassure them. _Why? Somebody, tell me why? It's their fucking job, not mine! Who's the parent, who's the child, anyway? Why in God's name they don't leave me be? Why do I even bother to talk to them when their minds are set?_ "Filial piety!" my inner voice whispered. "Fuck off! I don't need this shit!" was my response. I could taste my anger, bitter like bile... "There!" my eyes said, locating something I could direct my anger at. I reached to pull the big cardboard (with a bunch of 9-by-13 pictures taped on it) from the wall, ready to tear it into pieces. Finally, I had something to take out my anger on. But, when I realized what I was holding, I just couldn't... suddenly, I lost my steam. My eyes went over each picture; scenes from my beach at different seasons at different hours of the day. And, an empty spot for a missing picture--part of the past that I was still trying to put behind me. It had been there for a short while, until the color was indelibly etched in a small corner of my memory, burning bright as my anger at myself... my failure. These were the pictures that--every so often--kept me breathing, when I wanted to recall the cool morning breeze rich with iodine and salt. They accompanied me from location to location, from mountains to deserts. They were the only reminders that there was, somewhere, a cold blue sea, spread like a satin sheet early in the morning... the feel of wet sand under my feet, as I took my afternoon run along the shoreline, cutting through the gentle waves that swept in and out. The blue waters of an ancient sea... rich in legends, and myths... keeper of secrets, and lost souls. I didn't dare touch them. I'd never known when I would need their company. I gently placed the cardboard back on the wall. These pictures helped me remember the happiness. Whenever the anger started to overwhelm me, they had been there. Whenever I dared to check on that little warmth; to make sure it was still there, or to stroke and nurture it--like an infant--they had kept the demons at bay. _I left behind, enough... more than enough._ _Why is it easy to recall painful memories, when I have to work to recall the joyful moments?_ As I pondered that, something else swept those thoughts aside. _Why do I remember so much of everything, good or bad?_ The deadly silence of the cabin offered no answers. As usual. I knew I wasn't going to sleep. I checked my watch, and it was getting close to midnight. I decided to go to the bar cabin. I was off-shift for the next 36 hours... _Nope... make that 29 hrs._ _Shit! That's what I need! As if all that happened was not enough. 29 hrs of doing nothing but brooding._ But, before I could get back to brooding, I needed to make another call. _I hope he's not asleep. It's been a long time... since college. How in the hell did he survive the attack? If I hadn't seen his name in the paper, I wouldn't even know he had been there._ It took me a while to get connected, but I reached him. After wishing him a fast recovery, we went over the incident. I listened as he told me what happened. My anger returned. It didn't take longer than fifteen minutes to get the necessary details. As I put the handset down, my mind was already contemplating who was going to be the victim of my wrath among the assholes in the management. _Fucking lying bastards! Assholes! Never mind the fact that it was another company that got hit this last time. We've been saying this was coming, for 2 months already. They even tried to hide the details of the attack. They still haven't arranged protection for some of the installations. What if one of the unprotected stations was hit..._ Competitors or not, most companies exchanged information on general security and safety. There was no way they didn't know the exact details of this attack. They must have had gotten all the details, but they had downplayed the whole incident as an unfortunate happening. Several wounded, including one foreigner-- that was by mistake--and three dead; two of them engineers, and the last one a student from the college--barely 19 years old. _Jesus Christ on a fucking crutch! What a waste... 19 years old. Slaughtered like sheep._ Our rig was protected by a team of 30 heavily armed soldiers. However, the other facilities, like the production stations (where the oil was being collected), didn't have anything like we had, only patrols sweeping the area. I wondered what the management would do when the engineers in the stations got to hear the story I'd just been told. _Those bastards better get their fat asses in gear, and do something before it's too late... before something similar happened to us... if they don't want to be hit by accusations of gross negligence._ I needed to think about this carefully, but I was too angry to think clearly. No wonder my parents were scared. If they had known the truth... Well, parts of the attack were in the newspapers, but the details were sketchy, or completely wrong. However, one thing was obvious whatever way you looked at it; the whole ball game just changed! * * * * * I walked into the bar cabin, and after closing the door, scanned the room looking for a quiet corner. It was almost empty. One rig hand was nursing his beer on a stool, and a grizzly driller was standing behind the bar drinking some mixed stuff. Rig move time, when most of the off-shift personnel enjoyed some drinks. The driller had 24 hours off, his counterpart taking over. I hated that period of a few days. I wasn't involved in any of it. The idea of going to town for a day or two at the office didn't appeal at all. I picked up a can of Coke, and moved to the other side of the cabin; the entertainment center, with the TV, and the stereo. It was empty, and that suited me just fine. Finding a comfortable chair by a small table, I sat down. I wanted to ease my anger and cool off, before I got back to thinking about my options; with my parents and with the company. Well, I wasn't worried about the company. If I became too much of a headache, they could easily pay my severance, and cancel my contract. At this moment, I didn't give a damn about the money or the job. _When the time comes, I'll cross that particular bridge._ But, I wasn't going to let them fuck the few people I cared about. Most of them sitting at this moment in those stations. They were not friends, not really, but colleagues, some of them good people. I didn't have friends here. _That's a joke! You never tried to make friends with anybody here!_ _Yeah? Well, we both know why, don't we? So shut your trap! I don't need you bothering me with your stupid comments._ While I was lost in thought I didn't notice someone walking over. I heard the scraping sound of a chair being picked up. Then it was placed on the other side of my table. The rude interruption forced me to look up. It was the driller, and he sat down opposite me. Filling up two shot glasses from a bottle of whisky, he pushed one glass across the table, saying, "Drink up. It's celebration time. Rig move." I hated rig-moves. It was always messy, and it took almost all day to get the camp cabins moved and hooked up with electricity and water. _I would be better of at the office in town for a day._ I wasn't feeling like company, especially at this moment. I knew this guy. Big bear of a man, hard working, and sharp. He spoke very good English for a German. He had to, as everybody spoke English to varying degrees of fluency. He usually dropped by my office for reports, and discussed ongoing operations, and other details. I never socialized with him--well, almost with nobody-- so I was a bit ticked off and surprised that he sought my company. I always kept to myself when I was off-duty. Everybody knew that, and the new arrivals learned fast. Here, I could have that, but not when caged in an office somewhere in a city. _Loner! Not a very good reputation!_ _Yeah? As if I give a damn. Shut the fuck up!_ I pushed back the glass. "Thanks, but I already have a drink," I said, pointing to my can of Coke. He picked up his glass and downed it, and set his eyes on me, giving me an appraising look. I returned his gaze trying to make him understand I would rather be left alone. Ignoring my look, he filled his glass, and pushed the other glass back to me, urging me to take the drink. I was getting seriously ticked off with his attitude. I picked up my Coke, and sat back, telling him with my eyes to get lost. He wasn't drunk at all, I could see that, but he was ignoring the signals I was giving him that he wasn't welcome at the table. _What an asshole!_ I shook my head internally. He downed his glass, and setting it on the table gave me a look. "I heard you had a long phone call. Third call to home this week. Problems?" _What the... It's none of your fucking business. Why don't you fucking get lost and leave me alone, instead of butting your nose into my personal affairs?_ I chose to ignore the question. "I registered the time. I'll pay it... as usual." Long distance personal calls were always charged. Laughing, he said, "Hell, son. I'm not worried about the phone cost." Resentment flared up at his use of _son_, and I didn't even attempt to hide my displeasure--you could hardly call it displeasure, it was downright anger. There was no way he could mistake my look. He didn't even flinch... the _cocky bastard_! That made me more angry. Everything that had accumulated since the phone call was slowly coming up for a nice boil. I hadn't expelled even a bit of my anger up to now, only suppressed it. I was starting to enjoy the feeling of it simmering, so I chose to let it come out to the surface very slowly. It was such a sweet sensation, like a good red wine that you roll on your tongue, savoring the different flavors of spices, appreciating the rich texture, noting all the little details about the whole experience. It was warming my insides with its heat, and I wanted to feel its searing heat when it boiled over. "I think you should take a deep breath, and then take a sip of the whisky. That will ease your nerves," he said softly, taking me by surprise. He knew very well I wasn't nervous, but angry. But, after his pointed remark, I took a moment to go over why he said what he said, the way he said. I realized I was contemplating violence against this guy... in anger. I should have known better. I don't usually direct my anger at people, well, not exactly... I don't use violence in anger. They are two different things. I do use angry words against people when they have it coming, but I rarely used violence when angry. Now, I realized I was letting my anger control me, instead of the other way round. I had let my guard down, not expecting an immediate danger. But, danger lurked in the most unexpected corners, and came out in different shapes... like anger. _Has it been that long that I have forgotten the most basic lessons?_ Trying to collect myself, I thought off that beach... _my beach_... the water gently lapping between my toes, washing away the sand... a soft, cool breeze slithering across my chest, caressing me, giving me goose bumps where my skin was wet. As I felt each gentle sweep of the sea lap at my feet, I let it suck a piece of the anger that was welling up inside me. I could feel the heat inside me cooling off bit by bit. I didn't want to let it go, but I realized that this guy could make me do something I would regret. With a cold voice, I said, "I don't remember inviting you to the table." He gave me a long curious look, then filled up his glass. Nodding at my glass, he said, "I think you'll like it." I took a sip from my Coke, watching him finish his glass and wipe his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. "What are you brooding about? The attack last week?" he asked, when I didn't respond. I shook my head with an impassive face. He gave me a quizzical look. "You're not scared of something happening here, are you?" I almost laughed at that bit, the corner of my mouth barely curling... _If I did care about it I wouldn't be here, now, would I?_ Suddenly I was saddened by that thought... _Do I really not care? When did that happen?_ _Shit! I don't want to go there. That road leads to madness. I have other things to think about. If this asshole would leave me alone, maybe I could..._ "I thought not," he said, perhaps catching my amused expression, before he continued. "I was talking with the Captain, this evening." That would be the 30-something soldier who spoke some passable English. When I didn't respond, he continued, "He was impressed with your shooting. He told me you went with a few of his guys for target practice in the afternoon, after your shift." That was the only fun thing here to do to kill time. Nothing but rocks... and tin cans to shoot at. I wanted to see if I still had it after my time in the service, a few years ago. "Do you carry?" he asked. I shook my head again. _Why should I? Do I need it? I'm not as good with a pistol as I'm with an automatic rifle. What good is a pistol against Kalashnikovs?_ "I heard from your colleagues that it was easy to get a carry permit, and a pistol. I know some of them carry." _Shit man! You don't know what you're talking about._ I couldn't ignore this comment. "It's a couple hours work to get a regional carry permit and a handgun, but it's not worth it. In fact, you'll be making a target of yourself. If they know you're carrying, they'll try to get you. Probably when you're on a deserted section of the road, just to get your gun. And they would know who's carrying. The crew are all local people, and it's hard to keep a pistol a secret," I told him. "Besides I'm not good with a pistol." "And you trust the protection we have?" he asked, now that he got me talking. "Did you go with them to see how good they are, or how good you are?" _Oh, this is rich! This guy has ideas!_ I shrugged my shoulders, instead of answering. "You know, I know that military service is compulsory in this country, so you must have been in the service," he commented. "Yeah, I was. Nothing special. I know which end the bullets come out," I replied with another shrug. That drew a short laugh from him, that turned into a chuckle. "As I said, the Captain was impressed, and that makes me worry about them. Are they any good?" he asked, meaning the soldiers protecting the rig and the camp. Instead of answering him, I decided to rattle his cage. I was annoyed that he had drawn me into a conversation, when I wanted him to leave me alone. "You asked me if I was scared... I'm wondering if you're scared?" I asked. "Of course, I am scared. There may be very little chance of anything happening here, so I'm not worried... much! But, things happen. I've seen it happen at other places." "You don't have to worry about it. This is not _other_ places. They might attack, and shoot people, and blow up things, but they're very careful about who they shoot." "What do you mean?" "They don't shoot foreigners... ex-pats... That's bad business. They have their political wings active in several countries across the continent, and they will lose any support there if something happens to a foreigner here. Their offices will be closed, and any political activities will be stopped. They wouldn't risk it. They never have. On the other hand, my colleagues and I... well, let's just say we are fair game... in fact, the intended target." "That's bullshit," he flared. "How long have you been working in this country?" "Seven years." "Then I suggest you get your head out of your ass, buy a newspaper and read about the facts. It started first, by targeting the police and military personnel. Five years ago that changed; it escalated to include the government officials and facilities. There were isolated incidents of attacks to private sector facilities, but nothing serious. Two years ago, it moved onto teachers, doctors, and other civilians in government employ, and more attacks to private sector facilities. This last six months, it's any civilian. Mostly however, the engineers, technicians are killed, not the crew workers; the bunch of us that come from the big cities, not the locals. And, when they have targeted any private companies, especially the foreign companies, they always made sure no foreigners were harmed." There wasn't any reason to mention that one foreigner was wounded by mistake during last week's attack. _Shit happens when bullets start to fly. The other three hadn't been that fortunate._ "So that's why you were brooding... and that's why you're angry with me? Because I'm a foreigner?" "You believe that!" I exclaimed with an incredulous tone, losing my composure. After giving me a long look, he said, "No. You resent me, because I came to sit without being invited." I couldn't resist a quip. "You've got that right... pops." His eyes flared for a moment, at my response, _pops_, before he chuckled, perhaps remembering how he called me _son_. He took a moment to fill up his glass, then giving me a deliberate look, he said, "I like you, sonny. Come on, drink up!" I knew he was goading me with his _son_, and _sonny_, but I wasn't going to take the bait. However, he was getting under my skin. I tried to calm myself, visiting the beach, remembering the warm evenings with a cool breeze when I enjoyed a Bacardi-Coke, while I took sips from my Coke. Then, my mind got busy with another thought, and not the first time. Why did I recall memories so vividly, as if they were frames out of a filmstrip? But, this was more than that. It was a living, breathing experience. I could still recall the taste, the smell, the color... almost all the senses associated with each memory, each time I did take a stroll in the past, choosing a moment, a place or an incident. It was my curse. He was not going to let up on me, so after a few minutes of silence, he broke it with another question. "What is it that you practice, late in the afternoons?" _What the fuck are you talking about now?_ When I didn't respond, he elaborated. "I was checking the crown on the derrick, a few days ago. I usually have my binoculars with me when I go up the derrick, and take a look at the surrounding area when I'm finished. It's 120 feet up, so gives a good field of view. I saw you practicing. It didn't look like karate or anything." _There's no fucking privacy in this place!_ "It wouldn't. Karate is Japanese." "So what is it?" he asked. "It's something Chinese. Tai Chi Chuan." He filed this little bit somewhere, and then switched topics. "You were on another rig, as a student, couple of years ago." That would have been 4-5 years ago, when I was doing my industry training with another company. I didn't remember seeing this guy around that time. _How the fuck does he know me?_ "You had a run-in with one of the ex-pats, a tall Dutch guy," he continued, after a pause, to refresh my memory. _Tall Dutch guy... that describes most of the Dutch guys._ I jogged my memory... _Yeah! I remember that stupid asshole. Thought he could run shotgun over me, just because I was a student._ Seeing the recognition in my eyes, he leaned on the table and in a conspiratorial tone, he said, "Yeah, I heard the story. He was a serious pain in the ass, and stupid to boot." I knew the German and Dutch guys didn't like each other; something that lingered from history, but nothing serious. After all, the rig floor was a dangerous place, and everybody depended on each other doing their part and doing it properly. If not, you could end up either crippled or dead, but when the shift was over, they wouldn't socialize together, and formed their own cliques. "And you're not saying that because he's Dutch?" "Sonny, let's get one thing straight. When it's work related, there's no place for politics and bullshit. That was work related. He didn't know his job, and he had given a hard time to most of the contractors, but especially to us. It was bound to catch up with him. It was funny to hear it happen because of a student. That's all." _You fucking, asshole! Patronizing, ignorant son of a bitch. I should take your head--_ I'm not sure how, but I managed to clamp hard on my anger, when it flared again--dangerously so. For a short while, I let myself feel the cold breeze of the early morning by my beach, while I contemplated my response. "You know you're very good," I said with an icy calm and deliberation. I could see he was confused by my remark and tone, and I thought I caught something like unease on his part. After a momentary quiet, he said, "I know my job." His slight hesitation confirmed my suspicion, and I drew a bit of satisfaction from the knowledge, and now, it was time to let him have a piece of my mind! "I wasn't talking about how good you are at your job," I replied flashing him a cold smile. "You're very good at insulting people. First, you intrude. And then, you insult; with that quip about how funny it is that the guy got what was coming to him from a student. What you imply and meant was, 'a lowly student,' and _that,_ is not a compliment!" "Sonny, I didn't intend to insult--" he was saying, when I cut him off, before he could continue further. "That's enough of _sonnies... pops_!" I said softly, emphasizing my words. My voice might have been soft, but there was nothing soft in my delivery; a veiled threat--a promise of repercussions- -was very much present. "You wanna revise _that_?" I asked, giving him a cold stare. If my eyes could shoot icicles, he would have been already laying in a pool of his blood on the floor. _You must be really thick. You don't get any hints, do you?_ For a moment, I gave serious thought to giving my anger free reign. I knew better. That was when I noticed my fingers on my left hand were rigid, like a blade, in anticipation of something. I flexed and let them loosen up, and took a sip from my Coke. _Violence is not a solution. It's a last resort, and even then, there usually is very little justification for it... most times!_ As I remembered those words--they carried the same solemn warning as they had had, years ago, when I had heard them the first time- -I tried to let go of my anger. I just felt tired. I put my Coke on the table, and took off my reading glasses, laying them down. I could feel the beginnings of a headache coming, so I massaged the bridge of my nose, eyes, and temples. When I was finished easing the tension I felt, I turned my gaze back at him. He was watching me like a hawk, and behind his calm eyes, he seemed to be appraising me. "You have _fire_, lad. I noticed that about you when you first arrived here, three years ago. When I heard who had signed on, I kept my eyes open--after that run-in you had had... Do me a favor, down that glass, and talk to me," he said gently, urging me to reconsider with a soft expression on his face. _I don't like this stuff, what they call whisky... Johnny fucking Walker. He can walk the hell away from me for all I care._ While waiting for me to make up my mind, or respond in any other way, he filled his glass. _Fuck it! You wanna play, then let's play, pops! And maybe... just maybe, my runaway mind won't bother me when I hit the bed tonight... and maybe, I'll be able to sleep... I might even thank you tomorrow--if I'm still drunk!_ I took the glass and downed it. _Shiiiit!!! That's worse than I remember. What's this stuff anyway? Broken glass, or are you using tungsten carbide inserts from the used up drill bits?_ As soon as I put my glass down, he picked up the bottle and filled it again. _Bastard! You have 80 pounds over me, and a couple of inches._ With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I remembered Sun Tzu's eternal words on choosing the place and occasion for battle--and, that feeling had nothing to do with the spreading warmth from this shit I just downed! To gain time, I lit a cigarette. _No reason to rush it and get drunk like an amateur, is there? I'm not going to hand it to you so easy, pops. You're going to work for it!_ He downed his glass, and set it on the table, waiting for me. _Forget it! I'm not going to let you set the pace. You wanna get drunk, go ahead, be my guest._ After I took a long drag from my cigarette, I took a long swallow from my Coke. He didn't fill up his glass yet, just stared at me, waiting, challenging. When I ignored his challenge, he went back to _sonny_. "How old are you, sonny? 22-23?" "24." "You ain't gonna let me set the pace, are you?" _Very astute, pops._ I was almost starting to like this guy, but not yet. Quickly checking my watch, I did some mental arithmetic. "I reckon you have about 17 hours off-duty time. Plenty, for whatever you have in mind." That earned me another chuckle and an amused look. He sat back for a few seconds, looking at me, seemingly mulling something in his mind. Then, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Most guys your age would try to up the ante, relying on their youthful stamina. You didn't even give it a second thought to chase it with Coke. Nobody I know, young or old, would dare do something like that when they are being challenged." Ignoring his comment, I picked up my glass, and deliberately finished it in a few swallows, slowly, taking a drag from my cigarette in between sips. Putting the glass down, I picked up the bottle, and filled both our glasses. The point was made, so he didn't try the 'down the glass' act. He got off his chair, and went to the stereo, going over tapes and CDs. Choosing one CD, he put it in the player, and set the volume low--we could hear the music, but keep a conversation. I didn't recognize the song. The melody and the voice of the singer sounded disturbingly familiar, but I didn't have the patience to dig in my memory to recall the name, or the tune for such a trivial thing. It would eventually come on its own time, especially if there was a song that I knew on that CD. When he sat down, he said, "You know, you never answered my question." "And what question might that be?" "Are _they_ any good?" he asked, returning us back to the subject of protective detail. "What makes you think I would know something about that?" "Why do you evade a simple question?" he countered, in a businesslike manner. This was off-duty time, and I didn't have to answer any questions. But, there really wasn't such a thing as 100 percent off-time on a rig, not on serious business. Security constituted one such. I could still evade it; after all this was a personal assessment, and we both knew that I didn't qualify as a security expert, not in any way. I chose a middle ground. "Most of them are young and scared, but it's the healthy kind of scare. They won't slack off during guard duty. Quite a few of them have seen light action, so they know what they might be facing." "So you trust them?" "I stated the facts as I saw them. I didn't imply anything else." _They aren't bad. Not at all. Just young. Most of them. Younger than I was when I did my short spell. They'll probably be able to do what they are supposed to do. I'm not concerned about that. I'm concerned about mistakes, accidental shootings, and that usually happens at night. Sometimes shit happens, there's no avoiding it. I just need to be a tad bit more careful._ "Shit, son. What's your problem? If you don't trust them, why are you not scared?" "It's a four hour trek to the mountains, at a good running pace. The army will respond with helicopters in 45 minutes at the max. I don't think they'll attack in this area. They don't have an easy escape route." "And they had an easy escape route in last week's attack to that rig?" he asked, to which I nodded. "But we are moving closer to the mountains." When I didn't respond, he got pensive. "You don't carry, you don't trust the protective detail; yet, you're not scared." I took my glass and nursed on my drink, while contemplating the situation. _What's your problem, pops? It's not that I'm not scared. I just don't dwell on it. I could be hit by a truck tomorrow, or have an accident on the rig floor, or die in a plane crash while getting a ride back home. When your time is up, it's up. Although I reckon, it will be a very long time before I get my ticket punched. If my curse is what I think it is!_ "Is there something that scares you?" he asked. _Huh? What kinda question is that? Everybody is scared of something. I hate snakes._ "Snakes." "Snakes?" his eyebrows went up quizzically. "I figured, you're scared of living." _I don't like the sound of that. Not at all!_ "And how did you arrive at that?" I asked, the distaste at his quip clearly visible on my face. I filled my glass and his, while waiting for him to answer my question. "As I said, when I heard you signed up, three years ago, and ever since then, I've kept an eye on you. The few people I talked to about the run-in, all told me that you were a good kid, and fun to work with. When you arrived, the first month, you were ill at ease. But, you had a fever burning inside you. You worked hard, but didn't enjoy it. No, I don't mean the work! The place. I got the feeling you'd rather be elsewhere. But, you kept at it, and over the months, settled into a routine. But, you never socialized much, always keeping to yourself. Once a week, you called home. It usually annoyed the hell out of you, and I did catch glimpses of anger hidden behind it. Now, the last several months, I just see anger after the calls." "And your point is?" I prompted him to continue. "My point is, you exercise a very strong control over yourself. Over your emotions, and perhaps thoughts." _Bullshit! If I did, I wouldn't have that emptiness inside me... a big fucking black hole. I wouldn't work so hard trying to forget the past--_ "Sonny, I may be lots of things, but I'm not blind. You were ready to resort to violence a while ago. And I know, you didn't give a second thought to consequences... like losing your job or criminal charges. You're not the type to shy away from violence... when it becomes necessary. Yet, you chose to rein in your anger, and took it under control. It was as if somebody had just turned a switch off. You're a ticking time-bomb." "If you think so, what the hell are you doing standing close to a ticking bomb?" I asked pointedly, but with deliberate calm. He ignored my question. "You're a hard worker, and have many skills. What are you doing here? You can easily find a job elsewhere, where you'll be much more happy. Two of your friends already resigned, and they needed the money. You don't seem to care or need the money. So, it can't be what's holding you here," he said. "It's the job." "It's just a job, like any other job. Unless..." When he didn't continue, I rose to the bait to see where he was going with that. "Unless?" "Unless, it's all that you've got." _Jesus! You're a dangerous man, pops. I underestimated you._ Instead of giving an answer, I shrugged noncommittally. He took a sip from his drink, but his eyes never left my face for a moment. "You know, I've been working in this country for seven years now. I know there are some very nice vacation spots. I never took the opportunity to take a vacation at one of those beautiful beaches," he said in a conversational tone, changing the subject swiftly. I was wary from the sudden shift, and perked up, which he noticed immediately. To distract him, I finished my glass, and filled it up. The bottle still in my hand, I waited to fill his half-empty glass. Taking the hint, he downed his glass with an amused smile, and set it down for a re-fill. That done, I lit another cigarette, offering him one and lighting it. After he took a drag, he responded, the amused smile never leaving his face. "Very good, sonny, very good. Was it from _Art of War_?" _Sheeesh! If I'm not careful, I might get to like you. You're one cool customer, pops._ "Sorry, pops, it's something else. From a Japanese book." He raised an eyebrow. "I figured you would be sticking with Sun Tzu." "Most of the time. But, a single school of thought doesn't give you flexibility." "Like any single martial art style, or weapon," he finished, as if reading my mind, before moving back to the previous subject. "I've seen the pictures of the beach you have in your office. Beautiful. Is it a vacation place or your hometown?" "I was born inland." "You like the sea, perhaps any place near water?" I shrugged. "And, yet... you choose to work here," he said with a contemplative tone. After a pause, he gave me a long look, and continued with a soft, almost sympathetic voice. "When did you burn your bridges, sonny?" I wasn't expecting the question. Not at all. _I-I-I... I didn't burn... any bridges... except..._ _I have so few of them that are still standing. I wish... I hadn't, that one time..._ _But sometimes, I wish... I just wish I could burn all... then, there won't be anything to stand in my way. I would be free to make my own path. And, I wouldn't have to fight every fucking inch of the way to make my own decisions._ _But... that's besides the point. I don't burn bridges. I learned that lesson the hard way. Once was... more than enough!_ Calming my shot nerves, I replied, "I don't burn bridges." But in my mind's eye I could hear the words, "not anymore," even if I hadn't uttered them. The thought burned my insides like acid eating away, like a flame burning bright, like the color of her dress in... _One stupid mistake! One failure! How did I let her--_ I didn't want to dwell on it. Not any more. And definitely, not now. I had learned that lesson. It was in the past, and had to stay there. My thoughts went back to that beach, my beloved beach. _At least, that's one anchor in my life. It doesn't matter if I did burn the bridges or not. That place will be there for me, always; bridges or no bridges._ As I ran through the whole gamut of thoughts, my ears pricked up at the melody that was playing... _Is... Is that Chris de Burgh playing?_ _Who listens to Chris de Burgh these days? And, this song is..._ _Oh, God, no! Not now! Not that one!_ I tried to tune the melody out, but it was insistent. I couldn't switch it off. Worse, it was taking me to places I rarely visited these last couple of years. _We never danced to that one song. Just because she was dressed in red at the time, and it felt... Well, it felt kinda awkward, as if making a statement. And she... the feel of her fingers on my arm... so hot, almost branding me, as we stood watching other couples. Clinging to me, as if she would never let me go. Ever. And I never thought I would let her._ _Well, we know different now, don't we?_ I felt the same heat as I had then, and I couldn't help but instinctively glance at my arm, expecting to see the hand that caused the sensation. That momentary slip into past filled me with an uneasy chill. I downed my glass hoping it would warm me up, and reached for the bottle to re-fill it. "If you haven't burned any bridges, what are you running from, why are you running away?" "I'm not running away. I was looking for a place, and I believe I found it here." "Your place is where a home is, where your heart is. And I see that your heart isn't in this place." I didn't have to respond to that. I watched him take a sip from his glass, and then a long drag from his cigarette. He exhaled the smoke slowly, his expression contemplative. As if coming to a decision, he leaned closer with his elbows on the table, and asked, "Does the missing picture have something to do with all your anger?" Sitting back, he continued. "I saw it the first time I was at your office. It was sticking out like a sore thumb among the pictures of that beach. A few weeks later, it wasn't there anymore. My guess is she hurt you." Instead of answering his question, I chose to respond to his previous comment. "It's not a matter of place or where home is or where your heart is. It's a question of time." "You mean you're taking time-off until you decide to do whatever you want to do?" "Nope. I'm not talking about time healing wounds. Time has no bearing, none at all on healing wounds." What I had said, to a large degree, was true. Waiting for my wounds to heal played only so much in my decision to stay and work in this place. There was so little left inside me, I didn't know if any healing was possible. He pondered what I said, while I caught the ending notes of _Lady in Red_. For some things, you could be late and miss the chance. For other things, you could be too early, as they hadn't ripened for picking. Timing was... is... of the essence. Always has been. I should know. It formed the most basic tenet of my training. In my case, I had been... a heartbeat too early... and too late... for _her_. The cost... I didn't want to think about the cost. What's more I was scared of... living an eternity. It sounds like an exaggeration or a complete fabrication, but it was neither. The point was brought home by the death of that 19 year old student a week ago. He had been at the wrong place, at the wrong time, like I had been, once, several years ago. And yet, I had survived it. Maybe it was luck, but I had survived several scrapes since then. When I thought back to those times, _charmed_ didn't even come close to describe it--I'm not adding the last three years to all that, because nothing major happened, but somewhere along the way, the ball drops on the red instead of black, doesn't it? It just never happened! I felt cursed with the Methuselah syndrome. Intellectually I knew that was impossible, and it was more like the ignorance of youth, talking with a big mouth. However, that never changed the way I felt about it. That didn't mean that I was completely unaware of my mortality. The point is, I wasn't overly concerned about it. I never understood that part about me. Was it because I was some kinda sociopath? But, sociopaths never felt anything. I felt... I feel, more than I care. No, I just wasn't obsessed about my mortality. Death came and claimed young and old without any discrimination. Here, in this place, it was part of daily reality, and I've just grown used to it. That was what it was. If I worried about it every waking moment, I wouldn't be able to function. So I ignored it. This place reminded me that I was alive, despite the emptiness inside me, which at times, made me feel like I was dead inside--perhaps, it was a subconscious need of affirmation... of my existence... that, I wasn't dead. Did I care if something happened? Yeah. I did. I was careful. I never took risks. Was I suicidal? I didn't think so. I knew I didn't want to die. _Not in this Goddamn place! And, not by the hands of a fucking sixteen year old toting an AK-47. Not when I still miss that beautiful beach and the sea!_ Since the very first day I discovered the sea, I was irresistibly drawn to it. Yet, I was here. Only rocks and sand and desert sun, desolate, empty of life. And water was life, where life sprung first. "We are given a certain amount of time, and what we do with it is up to us. Sometimes, we miss chances, opportunities. It's no use crying over spilt milk; brood over past or worry about future. You have to be always in the moment and in the place. Not to miss life itself and what it offers to you," he said, taking me out of my reverie. _Really? I guess, you're not a student of history, pops. History is what teaches us the lessons, so that they aren't repeated. History and past is what makes us, shapes us. I agree, there's no use to worry about future, except be prepared for any eventuality. And to your other point... Being in the moment... I think I know someth--_ Suddenly, my breath caught in my throat, when his words really percolated through my train of thought, reminding me of something else, forcing me to reconsider and reflect on what he said. I didn't agree with some of it, but still, I liked it, especially the last point. To my regret, I realized it left a sour taste. I just couldn't shake the feeling that up to now, all the offerings had been bitter, even though I knew better than that. _Being in the moment... Is that the problem? Wasn't I in the moment? Why is that? Why couldn't I be in the moment? That's what I was supposed to have learned in my training. It was all about timing and being in the moment. Am I so lost to forget even the basics?_ I wanted to think about this, but I was getting agitated, and quickly downed my drink, re-filling and downing it again, letting the warmth spread. Slowly, I washed the taste with my Coke, and lit a cigarette. I took a second shot at the problem. _Why was I not in the moment?_ I didn't have an answer. _OK! Let's try something else. What did usually happen when I was in the moment?_ Every time I was in the moment... I collected detailed sensory data... sorting them, categorizing them, analyzing them, acting on them, and... I filed all that sensory input for later reference. _Shiiittt! They made up all my... recollections. My memories!_ _Fuck!_ That's why my recall had always been so vivid. That's why some of the memories hurt so bad, as if it was the first time I experienced them. I didn't dare look at him. His last point sounded so simple at first, and I liked that simplicity, that's why I latched onto it. But, it was more than that. This wasn't a simple fatherly lecture about the challenges one faced in life. That short trip, as I worked around the idea, had been fascinating. My head was spinning with the implications. _What kind of a path did you set me on, pops? What kinda ride are you taking me on?_ I pondered on that little bit I had worked out. In the end, most of it came in bits and pieces. There were gaps but... _In a way, you're right, pops. This job is all I've got left. It kept me busy enough, so I didn't have to think about much, especially about the past. And, it kept me so physically tired that I could sleep at night._ I've known it all along. I just hadn't looked at it from that perspective. I didn't want to be in the moment, because it would add to the collection. And, I didn't want to have more painful memories in a growing list of recollections. I had more than I cared to carry around. _If that's what you meant by being scared of living, perhaps you have a point you old grizzly bear. Perhaps, you have a point, after all._ I picked up the bottle and after checking his glass to find it half-empty, I topped it up, and filled mine. I had some stuff to think about, and I knew it would take time to find some more answers. Time, I had. Plenty. _If nothing happens in the meantime!_ _I'll cross that bridge when the time comes!_ I felt relaxed. With a small smile--the first warm one, since the start of our conversation--I raised my glass. "One last night-cap, pops?" "Sure, sonny. Why the hell not?" he replied with a laugh. * * * * * CHAPTER - 2: Encounter and Requiem "Sonny?" I opened my eyes, blinking them to clear my vision. "You better get a cup of coffee and a cigarette. This will take more time. I'll call when we're ready," said the driller. _Yeah? Why didn't you say so? Like an hour and a half ago? All I heard was, "We'll be ready in ten minutes."_ It wasn't his fault. Sometimes, when something went wrong, it was followed by a flood of other problems. There's nothing you can do about that but deal with it. It just took time and effort, but when you've been on your feet for 30-something hours, even a minute delay seems like an hour. They had been busy with the high-pressure lines and the pumps for the last two hours. The pipes kept freezing or leaking. Then, one of the pumps broke a piston. We had a standby pump, but if something happened with that, we would be caught with our pants down. Not a good thing in the middle of a critical operation. By the time both pumps were checked and operational, the lines had frozen again. In the meantime, I had been standing in the cold, expecting to get on with the operation in the next ten minutes. I could have gotten at least a catnap. But, that's the way things went. _You never know when Murphy would come for a visit!_ I chuckled at the thought. The strange sense of humor that was prevalent among the drilling bunch had grown on me from the first day I had stepped on a rig floor as a visiting student. And, I never lost it, even through my anger. I didn't feel like a chuckle let alone laugh--I was just too tired--but I could still appreciate the humor. Without that I wouldn't have lasted here this long. You can't run on empty or on anger only. I was dead tired. I just wanted to find a warm bed and crawl inside. Every joint was stiff from not moving and I was cold to my bones. It wasn't that cold, perhaps -8 C, but the lack of sleep, and the tiredness took its toll. I didn't think a cup of coffee or a cigarette would help. I've been going on that for the last seven hours, taking ten minute breaks every two hours or so. I just needed the sleep. Instead of answering, I nodded, and tried to loosen my muscles. That done, I took a couple of tentative steps to test my legs. I had been leaning back against a wooden panel with my knees locked stiff and trying to sleep on my feet. Well, you wouldn't call it a sleep. I was resting my eyes, and had been following the progress with my ears; listening to the banging of hammers, and yelling and shouting. I walked down the stairs, and headed to the kitchen. Once inside, I grabbed a couple of chocolate bars from the fridge and a jar of honey. I needed some sugar. Filling up a large mug with coffee, I added five large spoonfuls of honey, stirring the mix. That was a trick I learned from the German driller. I used to dump 10-15 lumps of sugar to my coffee. I was young enough not to feel the effects of too much sugar, but it wasn't a healthy thing to do--young or old. Honey was a much better replacement. However, that was my only concession. Chocolate bars were non-negotiable, when I didn't have something to eat. If I hadn't forgotten to arrange some egg sandwiches and soup with the cook for the late night operation, I wouldn't have to settle for chocolate bars. Back at my office cabin, I ate the bars, chasing them with the coffee, and lit a cigarette, keeping an eye on the rig floor from the open door. A few minutes later, I was feeling much better. The chair looked inviting, but if I sat, I wasn't sure I would be able to get back on my feet--not even with the assistance of a forklift--so, I kept pacing the small space. By the time I finished my coffee and half way through my second cigarette, there was a sharp whistle. When I looked at the rig floor, I saw the driller signing me, "We're ready!" Putting out my cigarette, I left the cabin, and headed for the rig floor at a brisk pace. _Here we go. Come on, Murphy! Why don't you take a fucking hike and let us get on with it?_ * * * * * Two and half hours later, I was sitting in my office. The casings were in place and cemented, and the crew was busy making the preparations for drilling the next hole section. There was some more work to do, such as changing the blow out preventers, and slipping and cutting the drilling line, and preparing the new mud, while waiting on cement to set. All I had to do was type in my report and fax it to the office. Easier said than done. I could hardly see the characters on the little five inch orange screen of the IBM portable. With a sigh, I put on my glasses and started to peck at the keyboard. Half hour later the information was saved and printed out. I checked my watch and was surprised to find it was already 5:30. Just then, the driller walked in. "Shit son, why do you keep your door open? It's cold in here," he said. I always kept the door open and the heater off when we had a night operation going on. Otherwise, I had to take off my jacket and the thermal coveralls every time I stepped inside--pain in the neck. What's more, it was easy to catch cold if you moved between cold and warm frequently. Besides, cold kept me awake when I was tired. "Trying to stay awake, chief," I said tiredly. "Report ready?" "Yep." "You look like hell, son. Catch some shut eye," he said taking the printout. That was a nice idea, but not practical. In two hours time I would be on the phone, talking to the Operations guy back in town, going over the morning report. I was starting to feel perky again. That's what usually happened when I reached a threshold with all that coffee, sugar and nicotine. However, in a few hours time, I would be down--and I mean, really down. But, that was OK. I could catch 4-5 hours sleep, do the handover to my counterpart who will be arriving around lunch time, and then hit the road. I had a flight back home late in the afternoon. There was nothing special going on until late evening, when they would start drilling again, so my counterpart would have no trouble picking up where I left off. "Later, chief. I just need some coffee, and a smoke. I can sleep after the report." He gave me a disapproving look. "You're going to run yourself into the ground, kid, if you keep that up." "Well, I know somebody who can scrape me off the floor," I quipped with a grin. "Where is the fun in that? I'd rather wait until the rig move, and drink you under the table," he retorted. That had been couple of months ago, when we were both off-duty during a rig move. It had been good. No, it had been better than what happened a year ago, when we had had our first encounter. After that little episode, things improved, and we had developed a certain rapport. I still kept to myself most of the time, and we weren't close, but there was a rapport. A few months ago, during another rig move, we didn't have to parry, and just went straight for the bottle. It had been fun, both of us letting off some steam, and trying to relax, taking some time off from the demands of the work, and other responsibilities. In the end, I had to concede defeat, before I lost my mobility to make my way back to the bed on my own. Back in the cabin, I had taken a few aspirins and chased them with four big glasses of water, so that next morning I wouldn't feel like a dish-rag. It had helped, but not much. I had to wear my shades all day long to keep the blaring sun away, and he would snicker every time he saw me rubbing my temples. "Shit, pops! You know how to hurt a guy." Despite my response, I was looking for a repeat of the drinking bout. It had been a nice diversion. "Well, if you get your head out of your ass, and keep to your lessons, you wouldn't give me the opportunity, would you?" "Ouch!" "Come on, let's get a cup. It's freezing in here." "I'll be right behind you, chief. I want to get rid off the thermals," I replied, standing up. His office was usually very warm. After he left, I changed into jeans and a shirt, and checked the thermostat in the bedroom to make sure it wasn't too cold or hot. I wanted to have a decent four hours sleep at the minimum. I set the heater in the office as well, and closing the door, I went to his office. While he was busy with his paperwork, I quickly updated my handover notes for my counterpart, and then we faxed our respective reports to our offices. "When is your flight?" he asked, as he took a sip from his cup, relaxing in his chair. "Late in the afternoon." "Going to your parents?" "Yeah, for a few days, and then I'll pick up my car and hit the road." "Somewhere nice?" "I don't know. Somewhere along the coast I guess," I said, my thoughts going to that beach. _I might drop by there for a few days. It will be empty, with only a few year-round residents. I want to see it again. I want to know if it's still there for me._ I realized--and not the first time--I had mixed feelings when I thought about that beach, _my_ beach. I had always believed that it would be there for me, but sometimes, there was an uncertainty associated with that belief, making me uneasy, however much I tried to ignore it. I had too many good memories in that place, and at times, when uncertainty crept in, I was scared I would lose one of my anchors--perhaps my only anchor. It was time to put the theory to test, and know for sure if that beach was still my beach. I also wanted to check out a few towns along the coast, where they had good bars, and perhaps, some chicks getting away from the big cities for the weekend or some tourists. In some of those places, there were always tourists, summer or winter, and it wasn't winter yet, _just_ mid-October. Here in this place, it was getting below zero at night, but day-time it was a comfortable mid to upper 20s. It would be slightly milder in the west coast, where my beach was located. _If it's too cold for my taste I can always drive down to somewhere along the south coast. It's always warm there._ "When are you heading to town?" "Around two. Depends on when the other guy arrives. I need to go over a few things with him." "You ain't sitting in the office until your flight, are you?" _Heh! You know me well, pops!_ "Nope. I want to get a haircut, and get this wild growth on my face trimmed. Then, some shopping for Sis; a nice silver necklace." He nodded in agreement. "They have some good stuff in the town. I bought a pair of gold earrings for my daughter." After a slight hesitation, he asked, "Any reason silver?" "She likes antique looking stuff, plus when she tans, she really has a tan, so the silver looks much better." "Strange girl. Most women would go for gold." I laughed. "Yeah, I know. But, she already has enough of that, and doesn't wear it much. We went shopping the last time I was back home, and I saw her look at silver necklaces. They weren't as good as what they have here, handcrafted, so I stopped her from buying it." "She's also patient enough to wait," he quipped. "Well... It's not the same thing if she buys it herself, or receives a gift from her brother, is it?" I retorted. "You have a point there," he chuckled. "So, she knows you'll be bringing a gift." "She's not really expecting something, but you know how women are. I think she sensed what I was planning." He let out a groan. "Tell me about it! It gets worse when you're married. In a few years, they get to know everything." We carefully avoided my parents as a subject matter. It wasn't because it was a sore point. He just knew I didn't like to talk about them, and he had seen the change--the telephone calls--it had gotten better. I had gone back home at the first opportunity last year. They had tried, but when I didn't respond, and refused to be drawn into any discussion, they eased up. After a few days of subtle prodding, they stopped all together. It hadn't been easy; for any of us. But, I guess they sensed the distance that was growing between us, and realized they were running the risk of pushing me away. I should have done that long ago, but I had too much respect for them, and didn't want to hurt their feelings at the time. This time, I just gave them the cold shoulder when they got insistent. It was better than a full confrontation, and that was the end of it. Over time, the uneasy peace turned into comfortable coexistence. I guess they had seen the subtle changes in me. At least, they could see that I wasn't so sullen, or my anger and hurt wasn't as obvious as before, and I kept visiting them more often despite my frequent travels to various places. I did a lot of sight seeing, and told them about the places I had been to, and they probably realized I was starting to enjoy life to a degree. They still worried about what might happen, here, but there wasn't much any of us could do about that. To have some peace at the home front helped a lot; I didn't have to be preoccupied with what was going on there all the time. By the time our conversation came to an end, the sky was lighting up. I stepped out for half an hour to watch the horizon change color. That was one of the rare things I enjoyed. How the dim stars slowly disappeared from view, as the dark mass took on a lighter hue, the distant end looking like somebody lit a slow burning fire. First a pinkish tint, that slowly turned red, and the few clouds changing from orange to a translucent silver color, to eventually white, before the sun showed its face. The ground was still hard. It would take several hours before it would heat up and soften. I could almost hear the soft groan--the sky finally waking up from its deep sleep. I just let the feelings wash over me, as if floating somewhere beyond the horizon, getting warmed up, even though it was below zero as I stood in front of the cabin, without a jacket. I didn't stay long though. Once the sun was up, my sleepy eyes would start to hurt, and I knew I would hardly be able to keep them open. When I stepped in the cabin, it was time for the morning report. The telephone wasn't working. Damn! We had to use the radio. At least, we had the reports faxed before the telephone quit on us. Sometimes that happened. Either the relay stations had problems, or our microwave antenna failed. When that happened, it was a pain in the neck to dictate the report over the radio, and then we still had to go through the details. "You better go first, son. You need to get some sleep," he said. "Thanks, chief," I said. Then, I saw the opportunity to get back at him, and with a wicked smile, I asked, "You sure you don't mind sloppy seconds?" He let out a long, rumbling laugh, shaking his head. "The coffee must have helped more than I thought. You've been hanging with us too long, son. Save that energy for your vacation and the chicks, will you?" The drilling bunch was a bawdy group. There were rarely any women around, so the jokes were always off-color, if not downright dirty. I guess it was no different than any other industry where women were a rarity. "Whatever you say, pops. I'll be good," I retorted. "I don't doubt that; just don't do anything I wouldn't do," he replied with a knowing grin. He had once told me a story about one of the guys he had in his crew. An electrician, about 20-21, and recently married, working a schedule of four weeks on and four weeks off. After two tours of duty, the electrician requested his tour to be shifted a week- -before or after his current schedule. When he was asked the reason, the guy couldn't give a satisfactory answer, so Pops had refused the request. After another tour, the electrician had made the same request. After a lot of prodding and pushing, the electrician explained his _little_ problem--with a lot of embarrassment. Every time he got back home, his wife was having her--well, I don't have to spell it out, do I? You get the idea-- It was funny as hell, but Pops understood the situation, and granted the request, making the young man a very happy man. When he had told the story, I was on the floor, laughing my ass off. With a chuckle, he gently admonished me; "Yeah, son. It sounds funny as hell, but not when you're on the receiving end of it... or not receiving, as the case might be... so, keep that in mind." _Yep! It's an interesting mix of people and stories. There's always something, and that's what I like about this work and the people._ Before I could call the office, we heard the Ops guy calling us on the radio, so I took the mike, and replied. After covering the major points, he started to ask questions about the delays. After I explained the problems, he kept on it, mostly about the length of downtime. I got the feeling he was trying to blame the drilling contractor, and that was starting to piss me off. _What part of frozen lines, broken piston don't you get? You've been on the rigs, waiting for repairs, because something is broken or something is frozen. It takes time to fix it. This isn't a lab where everybody works in lab coats, where everything is clean, and you have heating and air conditioning. I had to wait in the fucking cold, so don't tell me it's a long delay, sitting at your comfortable chair._ The last was a result of resentment rather than envy. I would have been the first to accuse the drilling contractor if I thought they were screwing around, since I was at the receiving end of the delays. He had no idea. In a way that was normal. The Ops guys--I was ostensibly an Ops guy, but had started to think and act more like a drilling guy--didn't really get involved with the tiny details about how a rig runs. They--well... we--were responsible for the technical side, the engineering calculations, and looking at the overall picture, and making decisions on the problems, and going over the operational steps, discussing them with the drilling contractor. The driller then went over the operational steps, and took care of the micro-details of each operational step. Ops guys were not involved in micromanagement such as ordering oil for the engines. That was the responsibility of the drilling contractor. The point is I had gotten involved in the hands-on side of it more than I was supposed to be. About eight months ago, there had been a labor dispute. The crews went on a slow down. Each shift was missing a few guys--sick. Sometimes there were only one or two guys showing up for their shift. All the other personnel--the foreigners--that were assigned to the rig (like mechanics, electricians, etc) took on additional workload. I, on the other hand, didn't have much to do. First, because I wasn't qualified for doing anything on the rig floor, and the only help I could lend was dumping sacks of chemicals while preparing the drilling mud, measuring the pipes, and other simple manual labor. Another major problem was my contract. It didn't cover the other work and that meant I didn't have any insurance coverage in case I had an accident. I was covered in case some accident happened, but my insurance would be void if I did something like operating equipment, or working with the equipment on the rig floor for which I wasn't qualified. I was willing to learn and do the work on the rig floor. However I wasn't going to risk it. Rig floor work looks simple; just heavy labor, but it's potentially dangerous, especially for a rank beginner. I knew that. It was obvious that they could use an extra hand, so I had a quick discussion with my boss, and suggested they make an addendum to my contract for additional work (for which I retained the sole right to refuse anytime I chose to do so) with specific insurance and disability coverage. I wasn't going to let the Company use those additional work clauses to take advantage of me at a later date... especially if I ever had to take a position against the company for one reason or another. Later, I heard that some people didn't like that clause--me retaining the sole right to refuse the particular work added to my contract. Heh! Tough shit! I didn't have to offer the help I was offering. Instead of saying "Thank you," they were whining. It was probably the few assholes in the management--I had stepped on some toes several times--and the Legal Department. _Pricks_! A couple months after the labor dispute was resolved, I had gotten an extra check and a "Thank you," and I think the drilling contractor, and my boss might have had a hand in that. But, my offer had been attractive. I didn't demand extra pay or anything else; I just wanted to have proper coverage for any unfortunate eventuality. A few phone calls and faxes between the office and the family lawyer, and everything was settled. I worked on the rig floor, I worked on the pumps, I helped the rig mechanic and the electrician. Basically, I did a lot of the manual work that the crews did, getting my hands dirty, and I enjoyed it. Thus, I had a different view of things, and developed an appreciation of what was really going on. I didn't know everything, but I was very much interested in learning. I would never break speed records for changing gaskets, or driving a forklift, or handling other equipment, but I had done all those things, and more. I was almost tempted to give the Ops guy a snappy reply, before I realized we were on the radio. Just then, the driller tapped me on my arm. I shook my head indicating that I wasn't going to do anything rash, and he nodded his understanding. In my tired state, my patience was wearing thin, and he had noticed that. _You're a good man, pops. Every other rig in the vicinity that tuned into the frequency for their morning report are listening in! It would have been rather tacky to let the whole world hear the exchange. If we were on the phone... well, that would have been something else._ Taking a deep breath, I told him I would be in town in the afternoon, and suggested we go over the questions then. I followed it with a remark about not wanting to tie up the radio traffic discussing a non-critical item. Basically, I was telling him to quit nitpicking and move onto something important, like getting the reports from other rigs--in a polite manner. He got the hint, and since we had covered everything else, he signed off, and called up another rig. "Sorry, chief. I almost blew my top," I said. "It happens. I don't think it would have been that bad, just embarrassing for him. You don't go out of your way to embarrass people in public. You're tired, but still managed to remember that you were on the radio." "Yeah, but thanks anyway. And I'll be patient with him when I go over the stuff." "You do that, sonny. Maybe next time they'll be more appreciative, and won't start nit-picking." "I hope so. Some of them think they aren't doing their job if they don't ask questions or try to make a point. It gets worse on the radio. Once, I had a real prima-donna on the radio." He nodded with a tired but knowing grin. He had had his share of the same people. "I know what you mean. You give it a try in private and see if he gets it. Some do, and some don't. When you're working in the office, don't forget the field people and this experience." "I don't want to work in the office. But, if I did end up there, do you think I would forget?" "It's a matter of time and keeping in touch with the field hands. I doubt you'll forget it, after all you've seen and done, but it happens to the best of them." Yep. More often than not, that was what happened. People forgot how it used to be in the field, once they moved to the office. The good ones kept visiting the field, and tried not to lose touch. He was busy switching to another frequency to call his office to give his report. "Well, I'm outta here. I'll grab a bite and then it's nap time. See you 'round lunch," I said, before leaving the cabin. The first business of the day was to grab a quick shower. Next, the dining room. When I walked in, the cook was busy in the kitchen making some eggs and pancakes. After the usual pleasantries, he asked, "Pancakes with honey?" _God, no! I don't want any more sugar._ "Nope, just scrambled eggs and sausages. You don't have soup by any chance, do you?" "So, you were the one who raided the fridge, last night?" he asked. Every time I raided his kitchen at night, the next morning I asked the same question, "Do you have any soup?" "Yeah. Sorry. I had forgotten to ask for sandwiches and soup last night." "Why didn't you check the dinner cabin? There was some cake, and rice pudding in the small fridge. Better than those chocolate bars." _Damn! I didn't think of that. Rice pudding. That would have been great._ "What's for lunch?" I asked, as if I didn't know, receiving an annoyed look. It usually was steak with potatoes and some vegetables. There wasn't much variation. Sometimes he made an Irish stew or hot curry, but it was always meat. Well, that was to be expected, with a drilling crew. The night shift personnel usually had their dinner in the morning, so it was steak, fries and fried onions. I had that several times, too, when I had to work night and the following day, but it's not something I was used to. When you start working late at night and have to continue during the day, it was normal to have dinner instead of a light breakfast in the morning. I rushed through my breakfast and 20 minutes later, I was having a cup of tea. I didn't eat much, but that little bit of food eased my hunger, and I was getting sleepy. _Time to hit the sack._ * * * * * When the alarm clock went off, I barely managed to get myself out of bed. A cold shower did help, but I was still groggy. The short sleep wasn't enough, I could have gone on for an additional ten hours. _Well, tonight, I could and would sleep better._ For the first three years, I was constantly fighting the memories and dreams, especially when I wasn't tired enough to fall asleep. Sometimes, I would stay up much of the night, reading or doing some paper work or studying. Night operations helped. I could catch on my sleep with short naps during the day. The last year, it was better. Most of the time I could sleep, but it was uneasy, mostly due to the fact that I would be listening to the heartbeat of the rig. A lot of the drilling people suffer from that. Your brain recognizes a distinct pattern of sound that defines the activities that are taking place outside your cabin. After a while, these patterns are filed and catalogued, so you know what each means in your subconscious. If the pattern changed, it usually indicated a problem. When you're sleeping, your brain is still aware of what's going on, and notices the changes in the sounds, and wakes you up. Most often than not, a few minutes later, you'll hear the knock on the door. Problem! That also acts as a positive feedback loop, firming up the conditioning. The most distinct pattern is when everything suddenly goes quiet when you expect the regular squeak of the brake while drilling. Those are the times every driller and engineer hates. If you wake up to that, you better get your ass out of the bed, and start getting dressed. Mr. Murphy and a bunch of his relatives are probably paying an unscheduled visit that will turn your night into something of a major hell. No need to wait for somebody to knock on the door. The whole experience was Pavlovian, and unfortunately, it made for a restless sleep. I guess the only time I had a good sleep on the rig-site was when I was tired and dead to the world. After the shower, I packed my suitcase, and stored my rig related paraphernalia (boots, coverall, thermals, etc) in the closet. I caught my counterpart at lunch, and gave him a quick summary of what had been done, and what was coming next while we ate. Back in the office, I gave him the handover notes, and answered his questions. Then we went over the well program and the progress made until now. There wasn't much. He just had to read the reports of the past few days, and he had plenty of time to go over them before they commenced drilling later in the night. The next few days they would be drilling, so basically he was ready, and I was ready to go to town to catch my flight. After putting my suitcase in the car, I did my rounds to say goodbye to the people, and hit the road to the accompaniment of Chris Rea on the stereo. As he was singing _Looking for the Summer_ my mind was busy with my vacation plans, which route to take, what towns to check out and so on. I was planning to spend most of my time in the south coast, after listening to the weather forecast, with a short visit to the west coast to visit my beach. As I had expected there was quite a bit of temperature difference between the two coasts. _It will be a welcome difference to drive along the coast. On one side the Mediterranean, and on the other side the mountains, the air filled with the smell of pine trees. After the dust and sandy roads here, and the desolate scenery, finally I will see something nice._ * * * * * Back in town, I went to the town center, and checked out the jewelry stores. In one shop, I finally found what I was looking for. Instead of silver, I ended up buying a platinum plated necklace, handcrafted with a very delicate design. It looked great, and I hoped my sis would like it as well. My next stop was the barber shop. I got my hair cut, and my beard and mustache trimmed. When I looked at the mirror, I had the shock of my life. Around my temples there was a distinct grey and white strip. With the long hair I hadn't noticed it, but when the hair was cut short... _Jeeez. When did that happen? I'm just 25. My dad had his gray hair when he was 37. Shit! Mom and Sis will definitely notice it._ I looked five if not ten years older than I was, especially with the beard and mustache. I thought about getting it shaved off, but that would have looked ridiculous with all the suntan I had. My eyes were bloodshot, and sunken from lack of sleep. I hate to admit it, but I looked bad. On the way to the office I contemplated postponing my flight, and getting a goodnight's sleep, before going back home to see my parents. But in the end, I just didn't want to waste my time here. I missed good home cooking--_All right!_ I miss Sis, and the folks back home as well--and I wanted to get on with the program, and have my vacation. When I walked into the office, the secretary gave me a strange look. I knew what she was thinking after I had had a good look at myself on the mirror. _Don't say a word!_ "You look... umm... tired. Was it that bad?" she asked. _Heh! . I look tired? Understatement of the year... Lady, I look like shit!_ I felt like that as well. I was running on pure nerves, and the excitement of getting the hell out of here. "It got busy frequently, and I had only four hours rest in the last 37 hours or so," I replied, trying to form a smile. I don't know if I pulled off a smile or a grimace. "I better get you a cup of coffee. You look like you could do with one," she said with a sympathetic smile. "Ah, thanks, but no coffee please. If there's tea or something cold, that's OK." Few minutes later, she returned with a big mug of tea. We chatted for a short while and she gave me my tickets. That done, I went looking for the Ops guy, to go over the stuff he wanted to discuss. It didn't take long to cover the various points, and I explained the problems patiently without getting sarcastic. However, I hinted that he wasn't there in the office to nitpick, but deal with serious problems and give us technical support. I don't know if he got it, but I was hopeful. I handed over the electronic copies of the files on diskettes, so they could keep their computers updated with the information. Unfortunately, the com lines were not reliable to do it via modem, so every time somebody was heading to the town, they would have copies of files from our computer on the rig-site on diskettes, and drop them at the office. He offered to drive me to the airport for my flight, and I accepted. * * * * * The waiting room at the airport wasn't crowded. It was a mid- week, late afternoon flight, so that was normal. This was a small airport, with two strips, and the airplane was parked some distance away from the gates, with the fuel truck next to it. I was starting to have a queasy feeling in my stomach, which was strange. I enjoyed flying and I wasn't afraid of air travel. At first, I thought something I had eaten was giving me the problem, but that wasn't it. This was more like a signal, a quiet alarm bell going off--little flutters in my stomach. I tried to figure out what exactly was causing the signals. The more I tried, the more evasive it got. I was giving serious consideration to skipping the flight, thinking perhaps, I shouldn't be on a plane that might... but that didn't help. I let my mind wander instead of listening to what my body was trying to tell me, so I could take an indirect peek, and understand the nature of the signals, and the possible cause of them. After a few deep breaths, and loosening my muscles, I managed to get a better read. It was only little flutters in my belly, as if expecting a surprise. I didn't have the muscle ticks, or the tingling at the back of my neck, or the ants crawling on my spine. There wasn't a sense of unease, and I didn't have the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me something wasn't right. It wasn't a danger signal, just a small blip; sort of an expectation for something to happen--like a premonition. That piqued my curiosity, but I couldn't figure out what the surprise might be. Every time I took a look at the airplane, my heart was skipping a beat, and that was strange. If there was going to be an accident, I would have the danger signals. My body was telling me, there was no danger. I had come to trust my instincts on those matters, as they had served me well countless times before. While I was busy trying to figure out this puzzle, they called the flight, and people started to head for the apron through the open doors. As I made my way to the plane, behind the other passengers, the flutters increased in frequency, and that gave me a pause, so I slowed down my pace. _There's something in that plane! What can it be?_ _What's usually in the plane?_ _The cleaning crew already left, so... the pilots... the flight crew..._ _Flight crew? Flight attendants..._ _Shiit! No... can it be?_ The last I remembered, she was a flight attendant and flying the international routes. She could be on a domestic flight, but... _This isn't even a major domestic route. That can't be..._ As soon as I had hit on the thought, my flutters were replaced by a tugging feeling. As I slowed my pace further, I went to overdrive, checking everything I felt. _Yeah. It feels like she's here! There's no mistaking that. I know this feeling._ I knew this feeling... spinning out of control... the tug... the pull... every time she had been around... ever since that very first moment I had seen her... it had been there... always... I had felt that in my belly... even when my heart ignored the pull... _Jesus! Out of hundreds of flights, among major domestic routes, could she be on this minor route, on this particular flight? What are the chances of that? Why? Why now?_ I faltered. There were still some people walking ahead of me, and some on the stairs boarding the plane. I stopped, and taking off my shades, spent a few minutes cleaning them with the hem of my shirt, while trying to calm myself. If she was there, I didn't want to face her without being ready in some way. I went through my routine to center myself. While taking deep breaths, I imagined the beach. _Stepping into the water, and feeling the cold on my ankles. My feet trying to get a good purchase on the soft sandy floor, becoming anchors. Sinking, sinking into the ground. The tug of water. Moving with the water. Fluid, swaying. The waves wetting the rolled up legs of my jeans. My jeans getting heavy, pulling on my hips. Feeling each wave tug at my hips. Sinking more to the ground. Catching the rhythm of the waves. Matching my breath to each pull and push. Empty and full. Deep in the belly. Pull and push. The fluid motion of water. The great mass behind it. Deep in the belly. The power in the mass. Absorbing and filling it inside my belly. Calm. Becoming one with the water. Calm. Becoming the sea. I am the water._ The flutters in my stomach ceased, being replaced with a warm feeling of energy. I resumed my walk with sure steps, feeling connected to the ground in some inexplicable manner. _I hope she is not he--_ _Why am I lying to myself? I-I... I missed her. I still miss her._ That admission filled me with unease, and I felt the tug that I had always felt when she was around me, like the oceans felt the pull of the moon, like the tidal waves. It was there, and was getting urgent, insistent, threatening to overcome the calm and peace. It was very distracting. _I guess it's been too long._ There was a certain comfort even in the chaos it caused in me, perhaps a comfort born out of familiarity. Worse, there was the longing; the longing to be sucked into the crazy maelstrom, swirling and spinning uncontrolled, letting go of all control. It had always been such a dichotomy: my struggle for control, and the influence she exerted on me, pulling me into chaos. How she felt in my arms, the feel of her body, her hot juncture pressed against my leg as we danced. Her fingers busy at my neck, with my hair, as we kissed. And how she had exerted the same pull without a touch, as if we were connected by an invisible cord. I had never been able to fend off her influence successfully. After all this time, those feelings were rising to the surface, trying to answer the call of the _Siren's Song_. _God, it's been long... so long since I've felt this... I missed it... but she couldn't be here, could she? And, I'm so tired. I don't know if I could handle it. I've never been able to. Will it be any different this time?_ When I stepped inside the plane, I saw the first flight attendant, standing by the galley. There was another on my left towards the pilot's cabin. Taking off my shades, I turned right towards the passenger cabin. About mid-way, another flight attendant was busy with the overhead compartment, picking up a pillow for a passenger. _There she is!_ For a moment I considered putting my shades back on, but decided against it. _Why hide behind anything... we never had to before... did we?_ She hadn't seen me yet, as I made my way looking for my seat. A quick scan revealed that the plane was more than half empty, with most of the passengers in their seats in the front half, except a few who were busy placing their briefcases, personal belongings to the overboard compartments. As I neared her, she finished helping the passenger, and straightened up, turning to face the corridor to help the remaining passengers. That's when our eyes met. _She's changed. Why did she cut her hair? Short hair doesn't suit her. She... she looks old and... tired. Too much make up... She never used so much make up before..._ At first, she was surprised to see me there, standing and looking at her. Suddenly her face lit up with a smile--as if she was genuinely pleased to see me. "What a pleasant surprise!" she said. _Is it?_ "Hi," I said, not able to respond in any other way, even though I had prepared myself to face her. That warm smile, the look in her eyes, and the melodic sound of her voice cut through my carefully erected defenses. For a brief moment I wondered if that's how it felt when you were cut with a katana--at first no pain, then an intense searing heat that overtook all other senses. "You look tired. Let's get you comfortable," she said, while leading me to the seats towards the very back of the cabin, away from all the other passengers. I could see several heads turn in our direction, their eyes following us, wondering about the treatment I was getting from this pretty flight attendant, but I was too busy trying to collect myself to be concerned about such things. She showed me to one of the seats, and leaning, she asked, "Once we take off, I have to help the others with the service. Do you need anything until then?" "No, I'm fine. Thank you. It's... it's nice to see you." "It is nice to see you, too. Get comfortable. After the service is finished, we can chat... It's been too long," she said with another warm smile, before leaving me to help her colleagues with pre-flight preparations. I found myself watching her departure. The almost sinuous quality to her moves in whatever she did, reminding me of things I didn't want to think about. I was losing the battle I had been fighting, and already felt as if I was falling into a deep abyss, pulled by invisible strings. The timing couldn't have been worse, when I was so tired. Now, this unexpected encounter was threatening me, and what little I had accomplished in fighting my past. I was hanging onto the last reserves inside me to keep myself centered, but it was a slippery and treacherous slope. As soon as I tried to recall that beach and the sea, other images started to force themselves in, breaking my concentration. The scenes when she was part of the beach, and of me... I picked the airline magazine, knowing I would not read a single word or pay attention to even the pictures. Once we were airborne, the in-flight service started and--since the plane was half-empty--it was over a half hour later. Her colleagues took the two seats at the very back of the cabin, just few rows behind me, and I saw her making her way to me. She motioned me to take the window seat, and then moved into my seat. _She's still beautiful... her smile is still warm as her eyes... how could she? Is this an act? And, she looks tired and old... older than her 23 years... Where did that 19 year old girl go?_ I didn't even try to give a comforting grin. I was just too confused. She gave me a long, inquisitive look, and hesitated before speaking up. "Are you... are you angry at me?" she asked hesitantly. _Angry... at you? Why should I be angry? Do I look angry?_ _Maybe I do... I'm used to being left alone, so I don't notice it. But perhaps, that's what people think or see... an angry young man. As your friends once said... angriest of all the angry young men... Yeah, I was angry at the time... angry at you, maybe a bit... but mostly angry at myself._ "You _are_ angry at me!" she said. I had taken too long to reply, and she had drawn her conclusion. I wasn't angry at her, but didn't know how to tell her or make her see it. "Do you remember how you trusted me? You know I never told you a lie..." I said. She nodded. "Then, please trust me when I say I'm not angry with you or at you. There was a time, I was angry at you... a very short time... but I wasn't really angry at you, and I'm not now... It's just..." I said. Then with a tired sigh, I gave up, "It's difficult to explain." She spent a few minutes mulling it over in her mind, thinking about what I said and not said, but her eyes never left my face a moment. "You've changed... changed a lot," she said, softly, her voice tinged with something I couldn't put my finger on... something like sadness, but not exactly. _As you did, baby girl... as you did, apparently. Where is that carefree laughter, those bright eyes? The wild 19 year old? You look older than your years. Why? It was only a few years ago... four and a half years to be precise._ "You've not changed much. You've cut your hair," I replied. "It's easier to keep. So, you are going home now?" "Not really. Just a few days visiting parents and Sis, and then I'll take a vacation." "Isn't it a bit late for vacation? It's mid October." "I work an unusual schedule. A couple of weeks work, couple of weeks off. So you could say I work only half the year... roughly." "It must be nice... but also tiring, if they allow so much time off," she said giving me a critical look. "You don't have to mince words. I know how I look at the moment... Yes, it can get tiring at times," I replied. _But I like to be tired... I like to be busy... It helped... It helps... most of the time._ "Ummm... don't have much time left. This is a short flight, so I need to get back to work. I have about an hour till my next flight. Would you like to catch a cup of coffee with me when we land?" she asked. I grimaced at the thought of coffee. _I don't want to hear about coffee. I had enough coffee to last me a lifetime!_ She must have taken my expression the wrong way, because she hastily added, "Unless you have other plans..." "No, I don't have any plans. I was thinking about coffee. I think I had more than enough coffee the last few days," I said with a small smile. "Oh!" "I'd love to join you for a drink." "OK. I'll catch you at the baggage claim area then," and with that she stood up and joined her colleagues who were getting ready for the last minute checks on passengers. Just then, the pilot announced that we would be landing in ten minutes. * * * * * Twenty minutes later, I was waiting for my suitcase at the baggage claim area when she showed up, pulling a small overnight bag on rollers. We waited for my suitcase to appear on the baggage carousel, both of us lost in thought. It wasn't uneasy, but it wasn't comfortable either. After an eternity of waiting, I had my suitcase, and we made our way to one of the cafeteria/bars, and found an empty table. Even though I had had enough of it, I ordered coffee, which brought an amused smile and a raised eyebrow from her. "One more or less won't hurt anymore than it already had," I said, shrugging my shoulders. For a split second, her eyes tightened, and she froze, and with an effort she recovered herself. I didn't understand her reaction at all. Why would she react like that? "Did I say something wrong?" I asked her. My mind was running a hundred miles an hour, going over the scene from a moment ago, trying to figure out, and then I stumbled on it. "I didn't mean anything... I'm sorry. I was talking about coffee," I mumbled. "It's OK! I know you were talking about coffee," she said. Then reaching out with her hand she put it on top of my hand. If I hadn't seen her move, I would have reacted, but even then, it took a lot to steel myself for her touch. I felt that invisible cord tug, tug hard to pull me into the abyss, almost turning my insides to water. _You don't know what you're doing to me girl... or maybe you do..._ "I never wanted to... I didn't want to hurt you," she said, her eyes luminous, almost moist. "You were the best friend I ever had." "I know. I understood that when you first said it," I replied. "Maybe you did... maybe not," she replied. Her eyes kept searching my face, trying to determine if I did. _And what friends we had been. Friends don't dance the way we did... or kiss... or make lo--_ _Don't go there. It's past! It's over._ "You always tried to tell me before I made my mistakes. Sometimes I knew it... sometimes I didn't, until later. But you were right. We both knew it. And you still tried to help. Unlike others. That's what I valued most... your friendship," she said gently. "But..." I said, and then I changed my mind. I didn't want to get into what I knew was still going on. I knew she had changed, but not much. I could see it in her eyes. She just couldn't stay alone. She hated being alone. She always needed to be with someone. She always wanted attention, if she couldn't get love. Yet, she turned her back to the ones that really loved her. "But..." she said, urging me to continue with an insistent stare. _Don't make me say it... It's going to hurt you, and you know I don't want to hurt you. Don't you get it? Whatever you do, I love you. And I don't want to hurt you._ "People change. It's what happens given time," I said. That wasn't what I had in mind though. I just said it to keep her from pursuing that particular line, but she knew me well. "You were a good friend. Are you not a _friend_... anymore? Was that what you were going to say?" I know my eyes were almost pleading her not to go there, but she kept her gaze steady. I tried desperately another route. "You know how I felt about you. How can you trust my judgment, when it's colored by personal feelings, involvement?" "Because that's not you," she said, giving a squeeze to my hand. "You can't protect me from myself. You think it will hurt me, but _this_... hurts more!" _Damn you... damn you..._ With reluctance, I said, "Let me guess... Instead of the usual guys, you're with a pilot... Late thirties, early forties... perhaps still married or divorced?" She lowered her eyes in answer. "And you feel secure, because he clings to you. Now, you don't have to worry about being cast aside or being alone. What's more, you can keep him in line... with all the young guys around you, he has every reason to be jealous and pay attention to you, if he doesn't want to lose you. You stroke his ego, and he pays attention to you. He might even be in love with you." She nodded. "But do you love him? Don't answer me. I don't need to know the answer. You need to know the answer for yourself," I said, too tired to continue. _You have hardened... some part of you is gone... you've changed, but now, you have become more of a user. And still, you let yourself be used even if you don't recognize that. What happened to that 19 year old who knew something about love? But you were already hurt, and lost some part of you even then, didn't you?_ _I was too early to be able to recognize it, and too late to help... really help, that time. I realized that later, but then it was... it was over!_ _And now?_ Her earlier wildness was just a show. When she was like that, people flocked to her, but it was a tiring performance. Now, a couple of years older, she knew she couldn't keep it up indefinitely. Not with the kind of work she was doing. It was already tough enough, the irregular hours, the different places. I suspected the usual nightlife and partying that went on with the flight crews gave more than enough opportunity to keep part of her wild ways, but I have my doubts whether she was as wild as she was at 19. I had made it my business to learn some things about flight crews and their lives when I heard she had joined an airline as a flight attendant. Her tired and older look hidden behind the heavy layer of makeup confirmed my suspicions, as her nonverbal responses to my guesses. She had never used makeup when I first knew her, just a little bit of lipstick or gloss. Still, in all that, I could feel the pain, and hurt, and the loneliness she felt. I could feel the pull of all her emotions, and I was losing my balance. I tried to take couple of deep breaths to clear up my mind and calm myself, but it was a loosing battle. _The innocence lost..._ She hadn't been innocent then, not in any sense of the word-- including the biblical sense--but there had been a little piece of innocence. Now, I suspected that was gone, too. _What a loss... what a waste... are you ever going to find some happiness?_ She broke the silence. "You're right on most accounts. This time it's different though. He loves me, and it's comforting." _Oh, God! The question is, do you love him? Are you happy? You used to know what love is. You used to know how to love, if what I had seen wasn't an act... if what we did, what we had wasn't..._ I was stunned by her statement, and her ignorance. I looked in her eyes, trying to find some hidden answers there, and she averted her eyes. _Why? What are you hiding? You don't really believe what you said, do you? Then, why did you say it?_ The sadness I felt was overwhelming me. I was too tired to be able to deal with it, or control my emotions effectively. I wanted to move to some distance and find a private place to pull myself together. Hastily, I said, "Excuse me. I think all that coffee caught up with me," and left to use the facilities. I was ready to cry, and I hadn't cried in many years, even when I was a young child I had rarely cried. Now, I was fighting very hard the urge to cry. Once in the rest room, I washed my face, hoping the cold water would help, but it didn't. As I concentrated on my breathing, I tried to recall a good memory. Not of the beach, because she had been part of that beach for a while, and I didn't want her to intrude and break my concentration, but some place else, where I had found beauty, comfort, and peace; where she hadn't been a part of the scenery. I remembered a trip I had made to a small town by the Mediterranean coast, before I went to the boot camp. A couple of miles outside the town there was a beautiful picnic area with a small waterfall, feeding a large pond. It was one of the nicest, most beautiful places I had ever visited. I pulled the memory of that place; sitting by the pond, and watching the waterfall, listening to the sound of birds, and crickets, feeling at peace. I started to calm down, but the urge to cry didn't leave me. However, I couldn't bring myself to cry, so I did the next best thing. I let the waterfall cry the tears I couldn't. I knew I had a hangup about crying... something about weakness. Intellectually, I knew it was a natural reaction of the body to extreme emotion or other stimuli, and the body needed to have some release. I wondered if this little episode would eventually catch up with me, later on. However, at that moment, I just didn't want to return to the table with any traces of having cried, thus I sought the alternative, and it helped. Back at the table, I had a semblance of control. I took a sip from my cup, and grimaced at the taste of cold coffee. "I think I'll get orange juice or something. You want something?" "Juice is fine," she replied. After picking up the glasses, I returned to the table. She was lost in thought, her eyes distant, and I didn't like the way she looked. I just didn't know what to do to comfort her, so I took her hand in mine, and when she looked up, I tried a smile. "Where are you flying?" "Tonight is my last flight. Tomorrow is Rome, with an overnight stay." "Nice. So, you'll have time to do some sight seeing." "Yeah. It will be my tenth time there. Well, with an overnight stay that is. We usually make a short stop there. What about you?" "Nothing concrete. Few days seeing the parents, and my sis, and I need the car checked. After that, I don't know. Probably the South coast. I might drive up to the Aegean coastline as well." "Have you been to..." she hesitated for a moment, then continued, "to the summer place?" "Once. A few years ago. In November, when I had a week off after boot camp. Before I got transferred to my new unit." "November? That place?" she asked, with a quizzical look. "Yep. It was on my way." "What did you do? It must have been cold." "It was, when I arrived... late in the evening. I had bought a small bottle of cognac and some sandwiches, so they helped... with two heavy blankets. Next day was great though." "Really?" she asked, curious and a bit skeptical, but somehow relaxed. "Oh, yeah. It was sunny, and warm. Went to the town, and looked up a friend. We went to the little island for a bite and a mid- day drink... Ouzo and some fresh fish. God, how I had missed that stuff, when I was in the boot-camp. The next day, I took a bus to my unit," I said with a laugh, remembering that beautiful day and how I had gotten tipsy with a small bottle of Ouzo. "It must have been something," she commented, giving me an amused look. I realized how we seemed to settle into the conversation, as we had done so many times before. For the first time, the uneasiness had left me, and I guess she was feeling comfortable as well from the way she responded. "Was that too obvious?" That earned me a genuine laughter, and she said, "Kinda," making me laugh again. Then her expression softened, as if she was getting ready to say something, but then changed her mind, and kept smiling. For a moment, there was that girl from a few years ago... the same smile, the same laughter, the same soft eyes. My heart ached... something fierce. _God, I missed this. Missed hearing your laughter, and laughing with you._ "I missed your laughter, and smile. You should smile more. It suits you," I said, instinctively. "You always said that." "But it's the truth. You don't believe me?" "Thank you. You're still... a good friend," she said, then waited as if expecting a response. _Don't... don't do this to me. What do you mean a friend? A friend or a lover? I can't be either. You've changed, and lost something, along the way. I've changed._ _I want that girl back. I loved that girl and still love her. But she is gone, isn't she?_ _I don't know if I love this woman sitting across me. Not when you're not sure you mean it. I'm just barely managing. I don't know if I can survive a second time._ "I-I... I try to be... but I know... I haven't always been..." "Don't say _that_!" she cut me off heatedly, then more gently, repeated it again. "Don't ever say that." _Why? In the end, I quit trying. Maybe I could have tried harder. Sure, you didn't listen, or help the situation, but..._ _I burned the bridge. Did I not?_ "Thank you, but--" I said, but she cut me off gently with a shake of her head, not letting me finish what I wanted to say. "You did the right thing. At least, one of us knew it was the right thing," she said. _Huh? Right thing? Breaking up was the right thing, instead of fighting for what we seemed to have?_ "I'm not sure if any of us knew what the right thing was," I replied, my mind taking a stroll in the past, taking an inventory of all the little things we had shared and done. "I wasn't ready for a commitment, and you saw it," she reminded gently. "You saw... what I was like..." "Why are you putting yourself down? I know what I had seen... what I felt... Was I wrong in assuming you felt the same?" She gave me a pained look before lowering her gaze to the table, and picked up her glass. "I told you then, I wasn't in love," she said before taking a sip. _You mean what we did was just a... fuck? Nothing more?_ _That cannot be. I had seen your eyes. How happy and content you looked. It wasn't just good sex. We were connected. I know what a one-night stand is. That wasn't a one-night stand or a casual fuck._ _Why did you take me to your bed? Why do you keep denying it? You denied it then, and you're still denying it._ I jogged my memory going over the times we had been together. Walking along the beach... the long talks in the evening... how we held each other as we danced... how she kissed and touched me... making love... and how she changed later, growing distant and pushing me away... "I didn't know what I was doing. I'm sorry that I hurt you," she said. _At least I had some happy moments. I could say I had loved. That's more than some people had or could say..._ "Why? I'm not sorry, and you didn't hurt me," I replied. She gave me a sad smile. "You are kind... you shouldn't dwell on the past. One day a girl will be very lucky to find you. If you don't know that yet, I know it." _Well... there was that girl, once... and... there's that woman who might find her way one day..._ As the thought ran through my mind, I knew it was wishful thinking, and when my eyes settled on her, she shook her head slightly, as if reading my mind--almost saying "don't go there." "I didn't want to dredge up the past. It's just..." I tried to say, but couldn't continue. "It's been a long time. I know," she said, with a soft, sympathetic smile. "I needed to talk as much as you did. I still remember how we used to sit and talk. I'm glad we had this chance." I saw her check her watch, and surreptitiously checked mine. "You need to go?" I asked. She nodded, then reached out with her hand caressing my cheek. "Get rid off that beard and moustache, will you? It doesn't suit you," she said with an affectionate smile. I caught her hand, and brought her palm to my lips giving a kiss. "I will... if you let your hair grow long," I replied, with a smile. She laughed, her eyes bright with joy. She knew I loved her long hair, even when it was stringy with sweat, after we finished... We both stood up, and she moved into my arms, hugging each other. Her hand moved to my neck, caressing, and playing with my hair, pulling me for a kiss, and I leaned in instinctively. At the last moment we both realized what we were about to do, and froze for a long second, our eyes locking. Then she gave a kiss to my cheek, and I tightened my arms around her. I knew she didn't want to kiss. Not because we were in a public place, but perhaps it would have been too much, at least for me, even though I longed to kiss her one more time... after so long... Resting her cheek against my chest, she let her body sag, hanging on my neck. How I missed the feel of her, of her body in my arms. I don't know how long we stayed like that rocking each other gently, remembering happier moments. Reluctantly, she let go of my neck, and stepped back. She tried to compose her face, but her eyes were big, and luminous. "Take care of yourself, will you?" she said. "You know I will. You make sure you do too, OK?" "I will. Don't worry about me... and... thank you," she said. When I tried to help with her bag to accompany her to the flight- crew lounge, she waved me away, saying, "It would be better if you stayed here." With that she took the handle of her overnight bag. Then, with a tight smile, she said, "I don't like goodbyes... Till next time?" I nodded. "Till next time." As she walked away, I whispered after her, "and I love you... too." She had taken only a few steps, when she stopped and turned to take one last look, with a happy smile on her face. For a moment, I wondered how much of that smile was for my benefit and how much of it was for her. "Friends?" she asked. "Always," I said, blowing a kiss with a smile I could hardly manage. I watched her turn and walk away to the crew lounge, with a heavy heart. That invisible cord between us was pulling and tugging at me. It was still there. Suddenly, I felt drained, and sunk into the chair, not able to stand there to watch her disappear among the crowds. I knew this was the end. Maybe one day she would change, but it was already too late... Time had a way of bringing on the finality of a situation, and that was what I felt. _Is this closure?_ I didn't know. If this was closure, why did I still feel her presence, and the invisible cord that bound us? I lit a cigarette, not wanting to head home yet. I went over the conversation we had. There was still something, if I was reading her correctly. Yet, she was unwilling to pursue it or let me pursue. That was clear. She had made that very clear. I didn't hurt, not as much as I had a few years ago. I was just sad. We were like two celestial objects with different trajectories. At one point in time, our paths had crossed for a brief period, before moving away. The strange thing was, the gravitational pull was still there, as strong as before. It didn't feel like a goodbye. It felt more like I was attending the burial ceremony. Perhaps that was true; that 19 year old girl with the bright smile, carefree laughter, and soft eyes was dead. She had been already a victim of time and youthful stupidity then, and now... Was she gone forever, or was there still a small piece left inside her? I didn't know, and I was too tired to be able to think clearly, so I let it go. Maybe some other time I would go over it, if ever. I just wanted to bask in the aurora she had left at the table, absorb and make it a permanent part of my memories. After all this was a goodbye--or a funeral. Right on cue, the soft music that was coming from the PA speakers changed to _Who Wants to Live Forever_ by Queen. _Thanks Freddie! I owe you one._ * * * * * CHAPTER - 3: Angels Watching Over I don't know how long I sat there... a half hour... an hour. It was getting late, and I needed to head home, but I couldn't bring myself to leave the table--even after her presence faded away. Eventually, I marshaled enough strength to get myself off the chair. Towing my suitcase on its rollers, I walked to the main hall with the view of the aprons. For some reason I wanted to linger in this place. I didn't want to admit it, but I was scared; scared that if I stepped out of this building, I would lose my soul. Turn into just an empty carcass, wandering aimlessly... a mindless creature that would fade away... in time. Looking out the panoramic windows, I watched the planes taking off and landing, but my eyes were not really seeing much. I was gazing at the past. Was it my stubborn side that didn't want to let it go, or was I not ready to come to terms with... with loss? For almost five years, she had been a part of me, however much I had tried to forget her... or convince myself that it was over. And now, this encounter brought home that I had never let go of her... she was, still, very much a part... I was in a bubble, cut off from my surroundings, enveloped by her aurora, the past, and how she felt in my arms a while ago. What's more, for a brief period, the emptiness inside me had been filled with the warmth of her smile, her laughter, and all the other feelings she had evoked in me. Even the sadness I had felt during our conversation had been a welcome relief from the constant emptiness, or the anger that had been part of me for so long. Now, it was back to emptiness. I didn't have the energy or the inclination to muster anger, or any other emotion. I felt like a ship without any wind behind its sails, cast adrift, lost in the middle of the ocean, without a port of call. This wasn't closure, contrary to any notion I might have or cling to. "Excuse me... Excuse me... Sir?" I heard a female voice far away, calling out, intruding... "Sir? Are you all right?" _Was somebody talking to me?_ Then, I felt a hand touch my arm, followed by an insistent and concerned, "Are you all right?" As I broke out of my haze, I saw a woman in uniform, standing by my side. My mind was sluggish, but eventually I recognized the airline uniform. When my eyes settled on her face, she looked familiar, but I couldn't place where I had seen her or recall a name. "I'm sorry... What did you say?" I asked, struggling to pull myself together, and get my bearings. "Are you all right? Do you need a doctor or something?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern. "I-I... I'm all right... Do I know you?" I blurted. She hesitated for a moment, giving me a quizzical look, then decided to answer. "I was on the flight." Drawing a blank look from me, she elaborated. "I was one of the flight attendants on your flight." "Ahhh... That's why you looked familiar..." My mind skipped a gear, and I was puzzled why she would be here, when... "You don't have a flight?" I asked. "No. My flight was cancelled, so I get to spend the night here." "Aahh..." _Your flight is cancelled... Is she..._ The wheels started to turn faster, and I debated whether to ask her about that. Before I could come to a decision, she asked, "Can we take a seat there?" pointing at the row of seats a few meters away from where we were standing. Without waiting for a response, she gently guided us there. After we took our seat, I remembered to introduce myself. "I'm sorry. Where are my manners... Mitchell Tanner." "That's OK. You were, pre-occupied... Dana Conor," she replied pleasantly. I was starting to feel a headache come, as if my tiredness wasn't enough. I closed my eyes, rubbing them, massaging my temples. When I felt the tension leave, I opened my eyes to find her watching me. "I'm sorry... I'm pretty beat up... I guess it shows," I offered as a way of explanation. She just waved it off as if to say 'it's all right,' but kept watching me. She waited patiently as I tried to gather a semblance of myself. Once I felt a bit more human, I was curious about her. A thousand questions rushed in, all at once: what was she doing here, why did she think I needed help, where was... I guess it must have showed on my face, so she said, "I was on my way to the exit, when I saw you standing there, and recognized you from the flight. You know what happened on the flight... my colleague was paying extra attention to you, so it was kind of hard not to recognize you." I nodded. "I guess... Pretty unusual wasn't it?" "It happens, but not very frequently." "So what made you..." I prompted, my curiosity getting the better of me. She was reluctant to answer, and I could see she felt uncomfortable. "I understand... We just met, and don't know each other. And I think I have an idea how I look at the moment," I said with a sigh. "You... You were like a statue, cut out of stone... I couldn't see if you were breathing. I thought, maybe I should call for some medical help." "That bad, eh?" She nodded, concern written on her face. However, she kept her curiosity in check, not wanting to intrude. In a way, it was a strange situation. She might know I was a friend of her colleague, but she didn't know me. "You seem to be OK now, are you?" she asked, breaking the silence. "I guess... I was..." I tried to say, but my mind was preoccupied by the thoughts of _her_, if she was still here... "Do you mind if I smoke?" she asked. "Not at all... I'm sorry, I didn't ask, but I am not holding you up, am I? I am sorry if I caused you any concern," I replied, while lighting her cigarette. "It's all right. Don't worry about it," she replied with a short wave of her hand dismissing my concern. Then, with a smile she added, "We help passengers, and you are in an airport." I couldn't help but smile. She was good at what she was doing. "Thank you. I really appreciate it," I said, lighting a cigarette myself. I was starting to feel more comfortable in her presence, and that was surprising considering we didn't know each other. Somehow, she had managed to create a relaxing atmosphere, and I was debating seriously how I could ask the questions I had in my mind... of a complete stranger. "Umm... She has..." she said. When I looked at her, she continued. "She left an hour ago on her flight. I was assigned to another flight, which was cancelled later." "I see." _Well, she's gone! What were you going to do if she was still around? Go after her?_ Could I have? Would I? I didn't know... She was gone, and the only thing I felt was desolation... a sense of being lost. Completely lost. I just wanted her by my side. For the first time in many years, I felt a desperate need for her presence--the likes of which I had rarely felt before. And that scared me. I had always been independent. "Mitchell?" "Hmm..." "Mitchell?" she called out gently, trying to get my attention. I tried to fight off the desperation, still lost in the troublesome maze of my mind, chasing endless thoughts and questions. I felt her hand on my arm. When I looked at her, she asked, "You want to talk about it? About what's troubling you? Maybe it would help." "I... I'm terribly sorry... I didn't want to be such a burden. I'm OK... You've been a tremendous help," I replied, the words coming out with a mechanical monotony, while trying to shake my mind clear of thoughts of her. "Nonsense. I didn't do anything, and you are no trouble at all," she responded. I felt embarrassed, and guilty of keeping her from doing whatever she was going to do. I took a long drag from my cigarette, trying to gather my wits. She kept her gaze on me. She seemed to be mulling something in her mind. Coming to a decision, she said, "You two have a history, don't you?" At that, the air whooshed out of me like a deflating balloon, and I slumped in my seat. "I guessed as much..." she said, patting my arm to comfort me. "How? Is it that obvious?" I asked after I caught my breath. She took a long pause, considering her answer carefully. "Is it that difficult a question?" I prompted. "No, it's not. But... it's more complicated than that. I don't want to be the cause of further pain... to either of you... Maybe I shouldn't have opened my mouth," she replied, clearly disturbed at something. _Either of--_ _What happened? Is something wrong with her?_ "Why? What's wrong? Was she OK? Did she say something?" My questions came out in a rush, the urgency unmistakable. "She was quiet... lost in thought. I don't know her very well, but we have worked together on many flights. She's always been bubbly... But today, she disappeared for a while... I am guessing she visited the rest room. When she returned her makeup was refreshed, but her eyes were red. What happened between you two?" "It's... it's a long story... " _She was smiling when she left... Why did she cry? I didn't want to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt her. She knew that, didn't she?_ "I'm not going anywhere... do you have plans?" she said, taking me by surprise. "Why would you do something like that? You hardly know me..." I found myself saying. I realized it wasn't a very polite thing to do, and I was abashed by my lack of self-control. I was at my wit's end, but that was no excuse to be tactless. Before I could apologize, she gently patted my arm, trying to reassure me, and said, "Mitchell. I understand your concerns... Let's say I have a soft spot for... for lovers... I may not know her very well and you not at all, but... I watched you two on the airplane. I saw her when she came into the crew lounge. And, I saw you standing here... I think you need to talk, and I'm willing to listen. Where's the harm in that?" That earned her a look of gratitude, because at that moment I was feeling like a drowning man, completely helpless. "Thank you. You are very kind." Checking my watch, I found it was getting close to dinnertime. "It's almost dinnertime. Would you join me for dinner... here or in town? I don't know what your plans were, but if I have to take you up on your offer, I must insist. That's the least I can do." "Dinner would be fine. In fact, the hotel I'm staying has a good restaurant, so we can share a taxi downtown and have dinner there. I don't have any plans, so don't concern yourself about that," she said. Giving me a gentle and sympathetic look, she ran her hand on my arm, and added, "I would really like to hear this... Mitch." Now that the immediate course of action was decided, my mind switched its attention to details. I had people expecting me, and I was already late. I didn't know if I wanted to face them, tonight. I had to cover any eventuality, keeping my options open. Working on a practical problem was better than being directionless, feeling lost and helpless. It helped take my mind off the feelings that were plaguing me. "Thank you. Ummm... I need to make a call. Some people are expecting me. They might get worried. If you excuse me for a moment, I'll be right back." I was considering taking a room at her hotel to spend the night, and face the family next day, with a fresh face rather than the way I looked. I wasn't planning to sleep with Dana--come on, we've just met--and I wasn't over my encounter to jump into bed with a woman. I went to the public telephones, and made a call to my sis. She wasn't at home, so I tried my parents. Mom answered at the third ring, and as soon as she recognized my voice, I was under a barrage of questions. Once I calmed her, I told her I ran into an old friend and we lost track of time trying to catch up, that's why I was late. Then I added that I might be held up until late at night or perhaps tomorrow, so they shouldn't wait on me. She wasn't happy, but she didn't make an issue of it. That done, I went back to Dana, and collecting our belongings, we headed out to the taxi stand. * * * * * In the taxi, Dana gave the directions to the hotel, and half an hour later, we were at its doorstep. At the reception desk, I felt a bit awkward. I was trying to figure out a way to get a room discretely, so that I wouldn't give Dana the wrong idea, but she noticed my unease, and pulled me aside. "Mitchell, is something wrong? Are you having second thoughts?" she asked. "It's nothing." "Come on Mitch. Something's bothering you. What is it?" "Ummm... I was thinking of getting a room... I wanted to take a quick shower, and get a good night's sleep before facing people tomorrow. I wanted to look fresh when I met them. I didn't want to give you the wrong idea. I just realized, I didn't even stop to consider whether you'd like to be seen with me in public... considering the way I must look at the moment," I replied, feeling very self-conscious. When she heard that, her eyes widened, then she reached out with her hand and brushed my cheek with her fingertips affectionately. "You _are_ sweet, you know that? You look like you're ready to collapse... I can't imagine what kind of emotional stress you're under... and you think about all these things. I really need to get to know you," she said with a sympathetic smile. Thinking over something, she continued. "I have a better idea. It's a bit unconventional and I don't want to embarrass you, but I want you to think about it. We are going to have dinner, and we'll talk and I don't know how long that will take, but we need privacy and a comfortable, relaxing place. You may not agree... but you need company. I think it would be better if we get a room with double beds--or a suite to share--rather than two single rooms. You and I both know we will not be doing anything, don't we?" At that last, she gave me a comforting smile. She had a way with words, and a genuine sincerity that put me at ease, and make me see her point of view. If I had had this proposal from anybody else, I would have refused it offhand, unless it was part of a seduction, and I was willing to participate. I didn't know why, but in the short period of time since we met, she had my trust. I couldn't help but wonder who was watching over me, and had placed Dana in my path. Still, I was a bit uncomfortable, but before I could state any objections, she beat me to it. "Mitch, really... It's no big deal. I could use the company myself, and I would feel better knowing that you are OK. You're not imposing at all. What's more, we wouldn't have to rush, and would have all the time we need to talk. My next flight is mid- day tomorrow, so we can stay up late. What do you say?" "Dana... I don't know what to say... I'm flabbergasted. I'm just wondering if this is a dream, or if you're an angel... I won't be shot by an angry husband or a boyfriend, will I?" "No to all your questions," she replied with a laugh. "No, this isn't a dream, and no, I'm not an angel, and there are no husbands or boyfriends..." "Umm... OK. It sounds like a plan. Maybe we should get a suite, so you will have some privacy. I'm an uneasy sleeper, and don't want to deprive you of a decent rest." "All right. Let's do it," she said. Hooking her arm in mine, she steered us back to the concierge. We asked what was available. In the end, we settled for a small suite--two interconnected rooms with a shared bath. The rooms were big and pleasant, and the bath had a nice big tub and a shower. I asked Dana when she would like to have dinner, and she suggested we call for room service, in an hour or so. That gave us plenty time to take a shower and clean-up. Dana went first to shower, then 20 minutes later, knocked on my door, telling me the shower was available. I picked up my toiletries, and a hotel towel, and entered the bath. After brushing my teeth, I stepped into the tub, and pulled the shower curtain. Setting the water temperature to colder than lukewarm, I stepped under the high-pressure spray. With my hands on the tiles, leaning against the wall, I let the water beat on my tired body, washing away the grime of travel, and the stress. I'm not sure what happened next, though. One moment I was standing, and the next I was shaking. It wasn't the cold water, although it was cold. It was more like after-shocks. I had that before, when I had survived my first serious scrape... _Serious scrape? Really? You don't know how lucky you had been to survive... and without a scratch to show for it..._ Couple of years ago, I was driving on the country road to the rig-site, in a rush. The roads were bad: loose sand, gravel and compacted clay. Parts of the road were still wet and muddy from recent rains, and I was driving pretty fast, about 80-90 km/hr, because I had driven this road a few times and was familiar with it. I was approaching a curve, still on a dry portion and didn't slow down. I guess I was preoccupied and wasn't paying attention. I just felt the steering wheel getting a bit lighter, and took my foot off the gas pedal. The car slowed down, but because I didn't brake, it didn't slow down much, and what's more, I felt it was losing traction. By then, I was approaching the curve, and I went from DEFCON 4 to DEFCON 1. But, the damage had already been done. I didn't use the brakes, because the surface was muddy again, and I tried to steer the car gently from the middle towards the inner part of the curve, hoping the tires would sink in the soft mud and perhaps slow down the car a bit. I distinctly remember the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, as the car failed to respond, and started to slip towards the outer edge. Beyond the edge, it was a pretty steep slope of 25-30 meters to a flatter but somewhat rocky surface. The whole thing had a surreal quality; time seemed to slow down, and I remember thinking, 'so, this is it... no chance to say goodbye... in a few seconds it will be over... so stupid... such a stupid way to go!' The next thing I experienced was the slow tumbling and rolling of the car over the edge. I had my arms up trying to protect my face from the shattering window, and to keep my head safe from hitting the roof, and generally trying not to be thrown out of the seat. I remember the roof crunching down, and my head hitting it during the roll, my body held by the seat belt. I felt disjointed from the whole thing, despite the adrenalin rush... not exactly scared, but angry at my stupidity. The whole event was over in a matter of seconds. I remember feeling helpless, and caught in a violent whirlpool, the sound of metal being torn and buckling, and wondering when it's going to end, when death is going to claim me. Then, suddenly, everything came to a stop. I was upside down, with a bump or two on my head, but still breathing, and still alive. I was dazed by the violence of the whole experience. After several minutes hanging still, frozen in shock, I did a quick check of my joints and extremities; luckily, I wasn't hurt or wounded. However, I was pretty much disoriented viewing the world upside down. I carefully freed myself from the seat belt, taking care not to get hurt. Since the roof was partly collapsed, there wasn't much chance of a fall down on my head. After I rolled over on my belly, I looked for a way out. The front windshield seemed to offer the best opportunity, so I kicked out the remaining glass, and carefully crawled out. Once I was outside, I took careful inventory of myself, taking my time. Nothing was broken, and apart from the two painful bumps on my head, I had no injuries. That done, I carefully inspected the slope, curious to determine the path the car took while rolling down. I was surprised to see how it missed several out-cropping rocks and intrusions on its way down. If the driver's side had hit some of these, I would have serious injuries, and might have been killed instantly. Metal had torn, but mostly the rear doors, or the back of the roof. _Lucky?_ _More like charmed!_ I don't remember how long I stood there, looking at the slope up and down in stunned silence. I know that I had taken a few steps away from the car and lit a cigarette, trying to comprehend what and how it happened, running the whole incident in my mind in slow motion replay. After a while, I started to walk to find a way to the road, and look for help. Several hours later, I was on the rig-site, being checked by the medic. Later, they had me sent to the hospital for X-rays, fearing concussion, etc. but they didn't find anything and I was given a clean bill of health. Two days later, I was back at the rig-site, sipping my coffee and chatting with the guys about the preparations for an upcoming operation, when I had the shakes. It started slowly, and caught me with surprise. I didn't understand what was happening, and just managed to put my cup on the table, before the shakes intensified. One of the guys rushed out for the medic, and another pulled me to one of the benches, trying to calm me down. It just took maybe a minute or so, then it was over. Medic said I was having after-shocks. That was the shakes... and not the last time. I had several other scrapes since then, and every time they were followed by a delayed reaction... So, here I was, standing under the running water in the tub, when the shakes hit me. I was caught unawares, because there wasn't any possible reason for this to happen. I hadn't had a life- threatening experience. As the shakes intensified, I almost collapsed. Before I slipped and fell down, I dropped down to my knees with a thud, and kneeling, I grabbed the edge of the tub to steady myself. Next thing I know, I was sitting in the tub, cowering, and shaking... and... crying. Crying like a baby for Christ's sake... After a while, I raised my face up to the spray to stop crying, but I couldn't, although I was calming down, albeit very slowly. "Mitch... Mitch, are you OK?" Dana was calling from the outside of the bath, but I was unable to respond. She knocked on the door a few times, and when she didn't hear me respond, she knocked harder. _Jeeez... Get a hold of yourself. You don't wanna be caught like this, do you?_ "Mitchell, is everything all right there?" Her voice was high pitched, worried. _Shit! Come on... control yourself and respond..._ I heard the door open a fraction and she called out again, "Mitchell, are you OK?" "Yeah!" Luckily the running water was making a lot of noise, so she might think I hadn't heard her. "Are you all right? I thought..." "Almost slipped," I managed to get out, trying to control my crying. "Uhh... OK... Sorry... Be careful," she said, then closed the door. _Pheeeww! That was close..._ If she had walked in on me, I didn't know what I would have done. The scare she gave me, and the possibility of embarrassment helped me to gain a semblance of control. I sat there a few more minutes, letting out the tears that needed to come out. When I calmed down, I stood up, turned on the hot water tap more, and started to wash myself. By the time I was washing the suds away, I was functioning at some level of normalcy, and my mind was busy trying to figure out why it happened. While I was toweling myself, I remembered my trip to the rest rooms at the airport, and how I had fought my urge to cry. I had been successful then, but in reality, it was bottled up inside me. With all the other things that happened later, the realization of my loss and the associated emptiness, it had finally caught up with me in the shower. A part of me was disgusted with my weakness, but I was feeling much better than an hour ago, as if a heavy burden had been lifted off my shoulders. _Maybe what they say is true. Crying cleanses the soul..._ When I looked at myself on the mirror, I was surprised to see that I looked much better than a couple of hours ago. My eyes were slightly red, and a bit sunken, but I didn't look like death warmed over. What's more, I wasn't feeling as tired or desolate as before. Back in my room, I put on a clean pair of jeans and a shirt, and a comfortable pair of moccasins. Usually I go with socks or bare feet, wanting to feel the floor or ground. I never liked heels in shoes. Even my cowboy boots, which normally came with heels of more than an inch, didn't have much in the way of heels--about a quarter of an inch. I was feeling pretty good, and wanted to bring myself up a bit more. I wanted to be ready for the dinner, Dana's company, and our eventual talk. I didn't want to break down as I had in the shower. I sat on the thick-carpeted floor, legs crossed in a comfortable manner--not exactly the Lotus position--resting my hands palm down on my legs. I went through slow breathing exercises, relaxing my muscles, and letting my mind wander. I didn't try to chase thoughts or hook onto a particular one. I just let them come and go. In about fifteen minutes, I was feeling rejuvenated, and ready to face the world again. * * * * * CHAPTER - 4: Opening Vaults I knocked on the door interconnecting our rooms. "It's not locked, come on in," I heard her call out. When I walked in, she was putting her uniform in the closet. Finished with that, she turned and picked up the clothes on her bed to place them in the drawers. She glanced at me and faltered; almost dropping the bundle she had in her arms. She put them back on the bed, and took a few steps closer to give me a critical look, making me queasy. "Is something wrong?" I asked. She ignored my question, and instead asked, "Are you using drugs?" with a serious tone. _Huh! Drugs? Where the hell did that come from?_ "Drugs?" I was confused, and that was saying little. Her eyes were critically examining me, but especially my eyes. "You... You are looking good. Compared to a while ago, you're looking better than good. I just thought you had taken something," she responded in an apologetic manner. I didn't have a response to that. I didn't think I was looking as good as she made me out to be. "You mean I don't look like death warmed over?" I tried to joke. "A shower can do wonders." "Yeah... something like that," she said with soft laugh. "Are you sure it was just a shower? You have to tell me your trick, whatever it is. I could certainly use it." "You don't need any tricks. You're looking great," I replied. She _was_ looking great, dressed in tight jeans and a form- hugging sweater that accentuated her shapely body. She had her long blonde hair loose on her shoulders, making her look younger than her years--I estimated her to be around early 30s, but she didn't look a day over 25. "A woman can always use help when it comes to looks, and I'm dying to know how you managed what you did." _I didn't do anything... I just broke down and cried like a baby!_ The thought made me cringe and I searched for a probable explanation. However, before I could give her a reply, she moved in closer and looked up in my eyes. Caressing my cheek, she said, "It's all right, Mitch." _Does she know--_ _Of course, you fool! Women always know things like that._ With that thought, I tensed up. "Don't be embarrassed. You needed to get it out of your system. It's as good as any other way... and sometimes, much better. From the looks of it, it did a world of good," she said, trying to put me at ease and succeeding. She was a remarkable person. Especially, how she managed to appease my unease with her sweet talk and soothing manners. "Shall we order?" she asked, changing the subject. After we made our choices, I placed the order with room service. I prepared a gin and tonic for her, while taking a beer for myself. We talked about neutral subjects, trying to get to know each other, until the dinner arrived. During dinner, we continued our talk, and I learned that she had been a flight attendant for 12 years. She had a brief, 2-year marriage--no kids--ending in an amicable divorce. Now, she was seeing a colleague in the office at the airport back in her hometown. She moved the subject to me; what I did for work, and other general things. I glossed over most of the details--they were pretty boring--and gave her a general outline. However, she was well aware of the problems in that region, and she had a fairly good idea of the dangers involved. That was to be expected. Hardly a day passed without an incident being reported in the papers or on the TV. Although she probed, she was very careful, understanding my reluctance to talk about it except in general terms, but I had a growing suspicion that she had learned more than I gave her credit for. After dinner, she kicked off her shoes, and putting up the pillows, she got comfortable on her bed. I pulled a comfortable looking armchair next to the bed, and settled in. We were both feeling mellow with the food, and we continued with a nice red wine, enjoying the moment. At first, I was reluctant to drink more alcohol. But the wine was good, and I wasn't feeling sleepy or tired, strange as that might be. She was really good company, and I couldn't help but wonder why she didn't have a man in her life--yes, she was dating somebody, but she gave me the impression that it wasn't yet in a serious stage. I was also curious why she had this interest in me. I wasn't satisfied with her 'soft spot for lovers' explanation. She was not only beautiful but a very kind and generous person, and very interesting. "What's on your mind?" she broke through my wandering mind. "You said that you have a soft spot for lovers, but the more I get to know you, the more I'm..." "Confused? Curious?" I nodded. "That's really a question for another time, and is related to her. We can visit that later. However, I need to know something. How well do you know her, or do you think you know her?" she asked. _What's she getting at?_ I pondered that question, going over several possibilities. After a while, I sensed what she was getting at... the men in her life. "I figure she has... perhaps, a _reputation_?" I replied, choosing my words carefully. She gave me a long look, trying to get a measure of me, and to make sure we were working from the same page. Satisfied with what she had seen, she asked, "_That_... doesn't bother you?" _Does it? Did it?_ _I don't think so... No, I'm not jealous of her other men. If we were committed to each other, it would have been different._ _I'm bothered by her frequently indiscriminate and casual attitude towards her relations. I'm more concerned for her well being and about her general unhappiness._ "It does, but not in the sense you think. I'm not jealous of her men. I'm more concerned about her unhappiness." "And you still love her?" "I do," I replied. Thinking over about my feelings, I clarified my response. "Umm... I know, I still carry something inside me... for her... but, I've changed... and she's changed, too... I think..." She nodded, and took a few minutes trying to digest what I said, and make some sense of it. I could see she had come up with a question, but was hesitant to ask, and I wondered what she had stumbled on. "It's OK! Ask away. If I can't answer or don't want to answer, we'll skip it," I said to put her at ease. "Mitchell, this is a very personal question," she said. "And if you can answer, then you have to be truthful... and that might be very difficult." The warning in her tone was unmistakable. _I think I know what's coming... Did we ever..._ "I think I have a fairly good idea. You're wondering if my feelings are a result of..." I paused trying to find the right expression, and finished with, "an unconsummated relationship?" She gave a tight smile and nodded. "No, that's not it. We di--" I caught myself, rephrasing what I was going to say. "We'd been intimate... a few times." She didn't respond, instead she waited patiently, letting me decide if I wanted to continue and elaborate. _God, this is embarrassing. This is private stuff. I don't talk about it. Especially when it's related to her._ I started hesitantly, clearly ill at ease to talk about such a personal thing. "We enjoyed it. She... she was happy. It's difficult to explain these things... I've been with a few girls before her... casual stuff. I know I'm not very experienced, not something special in bed. But, I think what we experienced was... more than sex. Don't ask me how I know. She was more experienced than me... it was unmistakable. I came to learn that she enjoyed sex--nothing wrong with that. I'm not scared of a woman who knows how to take her pleasure--I'm not talking about orgasms... women can fake that and fool a man easily. I am not going to claim I can't be fooled... what I'm talking about is the afterwards... what I had seen... what I felt... what we felt... and it wasn't just after- sex glow or something. She was another person... It was as if there was only the two of us... no barriers... and for a day or two she would be much more... loving... closer, caring, happy, content..." I said, searching for the right words, and having difficulty expressing myself. I took a deep breath, trying to clear the images that were trickling into my mind. "Am I making any sense?" I asked. "I know this has been difficult for you, but I appreciate your candor. Not every man is willing to admit... Well... you know what I mean," she replied gently. Giving an apologetic smile, she continued, "This is not really pertinent, but I'm curious... Do you have casual sex?" "I'm not sure I understand the question... I've already said I had." "Let me rephrase that. Do you just go to bed with a complete stranger, or do you first get to know them... at least to a certain degree... where you have some kind of connection?" That question surprised me, and I thought about my answer. "Mitchell..." "Mmmm?" "Mitchell, you don't have to answer that question. You already have." "Huh?" Seeing me completely lost, she gave me a sympathetic smile, and tried to explain. "From what you had already told me, and your reaction to my question, I know that you're not really casual about sex. You pick your partner and establish a connection. If there's no connection of some sort, you don't sleep with them. Isn't that right?" "I-I... I guess... unless I'm intoxicated at the time." She nodded her understanding, then followed up with another question. "And your partner's pleasure comes first?" I nodded. "If nobody has told you before, I'll tell you now. You have the right attitude... the attitude that women look for in men--and find infrequently. You care about your partner, even if you're not in love with the person. You try to make it nice for your partner. Now, if that person is somebody you are in love with... well, I don't have to state the obvious..." "Thank you... but..." "Mitch, don't try to sell yourself short. You may be young, and lacking some experience, but you care about your partners. As long as you make sure they're happy, you don't have anything to worry about. Experience comes with time, and opportunity. You may not have had too many opportunities, but you're way ahead of other players. Trust me. I was married and I've known some men." She gave me a look that said she would not accept any objections on her verdict, and I tried to accept it as humbly as possible. "So, we know something... You really loved her, and still do. Now, I can answer your question... I know her. I'm sorry if I misled you when I said I don't know her very well. But in a way, that's true. I didn't say I don't know her at all. We aren't close or intimate friends, but we've been together on many flights, and it's a small world among the flight crews. So, I got to know her quite a bit. You are unlike any of her... friends," she said. "You don't have to be diplomatic on my account. I saw it before." She gave me a sympathetic smile, and continued. "She is pretty lively, which is normal. Especially on long hauls with overnight stays or longer. The crews get to enjoy the places and they like to party. That's what draws the young girls to the profession. Seeing different, exotic places, and meeting people, perhaps a potential husband or something. Once they get in, they realize it's also hard work, and some quit. Some stick around enjoying the work and the opportunities. She enjoys the work, but enjoys the partying as well. Nothing excessive, otherwise your work starts to suffer. And yes, she has a reputation. Not as an easy girl, but she goes through relationships pretty quickly. Sometimes it's a regular passenger on one of the routes, sometimes a pilot or somebody else from the crew." "I guessed as much." "Mitch, what I'm getting at is, you don't fit the pattern." "What do you mean?" "You are different from her other guys. Some of them were only interested in bedding a girl, any girl. You know the kind of men who are interested in _flight attendants_, and what they are really interested in. She knew their reputation, but she took them up." She gave me a pointed look, to get her meaning across. "Then, there were the semi-serious and serious relations. A few wanted to marry her, but some dropped her when they didn't like what they had seen. Sometimes she broke it off," she said. Collecting her thoughts she continued. "She was never concerned about any of her relations. She was angry with a few, but they were assholes. From what I've seen and heard she never gave a second thought to any of the guys. She moved on. She doesn't fit any pattern I had seen before. She's not shopping for a husband. Some girls who go through frequent relations are really shopping, but... she's not." "I know a bit about that... I think... She wanted attention and to be loved. She couldn't handle being alone. If somebody showed a bit of attention, she would be there. She said as much once, that her biggest fear was being alone. She was also a bit of a wild girl. Heart of the party... and people flocked. Somehow, I always thought that it was an act, perhaps to grab attention. I'm not sure, but I think she was hurt early on... before I met her. I know she went through some guys before me, and there were others when we were breaking up. In the end I was just another one on her list," I told her. "What else did you do? You two must have had something going?" "Well, at first we were wary. At least, I was. Compared to how quickly she became friendly with new people, she was very reserved when we first met. We were introduced by a mutual friend and, that first moment, I fell in love with her. Sounds corny, doesn't it?" "Why do you say that?" "I don't know. It's... It was something I never felt before. It wasn't because she was beautiful. No. I just felt drawn to her. Later, I would come to realize there was... umm... this is difficult to explain, and I don't know how to put it... but I felt a bond... sort of like an invisible cord. She had an influence on me. She didn't even have to touch me to exert that influence. It was something deep in my belly. Whenever she was near me, I felt like I was being pulled into a maelstrom, spinning, losing control... Does this make any sense?" She nodded. "Anyways... I tried to keep myself under control and fight that feeling. I don't like to lose control. We started to see each other, mostly within a group of friends, and over a matter of days we were talking, opening up to each other. This was before I started my senior year. I wasn't experienced enough to see some things. I didn't see she wasn't innocent, if you know what I mean. Part of my mind was busy trying to figure out how to finish school, the military service, and find a good job so I could settle down. I knew I wanted to marry her. That was another reason I held myself off from getting intimate with her. I didn't want us to be caught in a... situation," I said, with an embarrassed grin. "It's understandable, Mitch. Your intentions were honorable," she assured me, then nodded at me to continue. "There was also a vulnerable side to her. She tried to keep it hidden, but as we talked more I could see glimpses of it. Sometimes she would hint at things, and immediately move onto something else, never allowing me to dig deeper. There was some thing in her eyes; they were... misty... with... dark clouds... most of the time. From the first moment I noticed that, and later, it felt like... like there was an eternal sorrow, somewhere deep inside her. I know that sounds a bit melodramatic, or cliché, but that's what her eyes evoked in me... I didn't realize it at the time, but she had some deep wounds. I was just not experienced enough to read the signs. I did whatever I could to help, from what I could see, but... Anyways, we started to go out together, but still usually in a group with friends. After a while, we got pretty close. She started the intimacy; first a bit of flirting, and then the touching, kissing, and teasing. When we danced, it was really something. She was subtle, but very intimate. Necking followed. Then we had these long walks in the evening along the shore. We would talk, and make out. I could see she was no scared virgin. When she invited me into her bed... Well, then I knew it." "You said before, she was another person after... you were intimate..." "She was... When we were with friends, she would flirt and do all that stuff on the dance floor. Sometimes she would be slightly restrained. But, she always seemed restless, and at times would fall back into her party mode and get really wild. Sometimes I felt tired, just watching her." As I continued, the memories started to trickle from the wells of past. "When we had our long walks, she was reluctant to talk about her past, like high school and stuff. Sometimes she would be open, the next moment she would be reticent, moody. I didn't realize it till later, but she had masks she hid behind, and her party mode was one of them. In bed, she was passionate... but afterwards... that's when she was content, and perhaps really happy. The façade or mask would be gone. Her happiness was genuine. She looked at peace and happy. And those are the moments I could see her forget whatever that was bothering her. And, her eyes would clear, the clouds gone... I could also see her fragile side; she didn't try to hide it... I don't know how to explain it," I finished with a tired sigh. I took a deep breath, and added, "Perhaps, it doesn't apply, but I know how I felt. I felt like I was home, belonging to her, right there by her side. Somehow, that's the impression I got from her as well, in those moments." The past was coming awake from its uneasy sleep, the old feelings stirring up, reminding me what was, once. I took another deep breath, trying to cleanse my mind, my soul, but... I closed my eyes, letting my mind wander instead of fighting the images. Somehow Dana's presence had a calming effect, giving me strength to face the past... what I had left behind. When I opened my eyes, I saw Dana swirling the wine in her glass, giving me time to collect myself. Gathering my thoughts, I said, "For a while she would get clingy, if that's the right word. This was right after we had been intimate a few times. She would try to be with me all the time. We would be watching other couples dance, and she would be holding onto my arm... I remember those scenes very clearly... When we had our talks, she would cuddle. If we had some real privacy, she would sit on my lap, with her arm around my neck... things she didn't do before. She would be more loving and caring. But in a day or two it would fade away, and she would be back to wearing her mask, in the party mode, wild." "What happened... later?" "I'm not sure. I probed her a few times about her future plans and explained what I had to do; finish school, the military service, and then a job. She didn't want to talk about it, and over a matter of days, she started to push me away. She would be warm and loving, the next instant she would be cold and distant. We would still talk, or get together for a dance, but it wasn't the same. When we were going through that period--we'd been intimate twice more--the last times, and her response had not changed. We were still close on those two occasions. That really confused me. Her body and soul was saying something, and her mouth was saying something else." "When did you break up?" "Well... During that cooling off period, she was flirting with other guys, pushing me away or ignoring me, and then becoming loving again. I thought she was trying to make me jealous, so I ignored it. Since we weren't committed to each other, I didn't see a reason to make it an issue. I would still be there when she came for a talk, or for anything else. That's how she got me to her bed the last two times. But, I was getting tired of her mood changes, and she was getting more blatant, so I tried to talk with her. She ignored my attempts. One day I confronted her, told her I wanted to marry her, and asked what she wanted from our relationship. She replied she wasn't in love with me, but saw me as a good friend. I reminded her about our intimate moments, and things we used to do, share and enjoy... before things started to change. She just shrugged her shoulders, and replied she enjoyed our times together. We didn't have a fight, but I didn't want to play her game. It was getting pretty painful, and I suggested that we stop seeing each other." The memories started to flood in, as I went back in time, to the days when things really took on a turn for the worse. "We always had a lot of friends, so we would be in a group, but ignore each other. She would flirt with some of the guys, but... I don't know... I got the impression, she wasn't enjoying herself as much as before... I mean, it was as if she was stepping up her wildness... her behavior was beyond her party mode act... I don't know why, but seeing her like that saddened me more than our breakup." "Do you think she was using the other guys?" she asked. "I don't know. That's the impression I got. I'm not talking as a jilted lover. There was a definite step-up in her wildness, and I could sense she wasn't happy. After a while, I didn't stick around. Dropped from the group scene. I didn't want to see her like that, and... I don't know... I got the feeling she didn't want me around... as if somehow I was hurting her or making her unhappy just by being there... What I heard from other friends kind of makes me think that might be the case. They said she wasn't as wild as she used to be, and that coincides with when I left the group scene." The trip down the memory lane had taken its toll, and I felt drained, but also restless. I wanted to stretch my legs, move; I didn't want to sit. Perhaps, it was a reminder from earlier lessons, teachings from a different era of my life. _Death is in the stillness, life is in the movement!_ That was what Miyamoto Musashi, _Kensei_--the Great Sword Saint-- had written 400 years ago in his treatise; a book I had to study as part of my teachings in a martial art I hadn't been able to master completely. I didn't want to think about Musashi. But, as with all other memories, these memories got recalled, sometimes at the most inopportune moments. I stood up and picked the wine bottle from the table. After topping up her glass, I filled up mine and set the bottle on the floor next to the armchair. I realized Dana was watching me carefully, feeling my restlessness. Not to alarm her further, I sat down, and went through my shallow breathing exercises, while sipping my wine. From the outside, nobody would be able to see what I was doing, except perhaps another adept. I didn't want to draw undue attention from her. In a few minutes I was feeling better. For all appearances we were both in a contemplative mood. When I looked at Dana, she took it as a signal, starting the conversation again. "She hasn't changed... it seems. She's still moving from relationship to relationship," Dana said. "I know... well, I'm kinda guessing... It just doesn't make sense. It never did. Was she ever happy in these last few years?" I asked, curious how she had been the last four years or so. "I don't know her that intimately, but if I have to take a guess... no, she hasn't been. You're right about that." "I guess I was just one of a pretty long list. Later, I realized that she must have been hurt... badly, before she met me. I think she was using people, including me. I wasn't experienced enough to see that, and now, in hindsight, it's kinda obvious. I loved her other side, the loving, caring side, and the vulnerability she tried to hide. Perhaps, that was what made me fall in love with her... there was this fragile beauty, her vulnerable side, like a delicate flower." I took a sip from my glass, collecting my thoughts. "For a short while, I was angry... at her. Angry that she pushed me away, but I got over that quickly. Much later--after our break-up--I figured out how much she must have been hurt. I didn't know how or by whom. That's when I got angry with myself... First, I had failed to see her hurt, and second, I hadn't been able to... help. Worse, I had given up, quit on her. That anger helped me over the years... to survive the emptiness..." I finished with a tired sigh. I let my head rest on the back of the armchair, looking at the ceiling for a few seconds, then closed my eyes. Dana was quiet for quite some time, going over what I told her. "Mitch?" "Mmmm..." "What happened this afternoon?" "Huh?" "What happened this afternoon? You two were together. What did you talk about?" I ran the whole episode in my mind trying to recall every detail, before I answered her. I finished telling my little guessing game about her relationship with the older pilot and her response, and was going to continue with the rest of what happened, when Dana interrupted me. "She said... _what_?" "She said that 'he loves her and she finds it comforting'." "Who loves her?" "One of the pilots she is currently involved with? Somebody quite a bit older than her?" I replied. I was going to get on with my tale, but Dana interrupted me again. "Mitch? Do you recall her exact words?" "Is that important?" "I'm not sure... humor me, will you?" she said, with a half serious, half joking tone. "Ummm... I asked her if she loved him and told her that I didn't need an answer, but she needed to find the answer for herself. She ignored me and told me that I was almost right on my guess. Then she said: 'This time it's different; he loves me and it is comforting'," I replied, recalling the moment with an uncanny clarity. How could I forget? It was the moment that brought the point home... that she hadn't changed! "I remember it clearly, because it was the moment that made it clear she hadn't changed, confirming my suspicions. I was almost- -" I barely caught myself in time. "You were almost?" Dana insisted. "It's nothing." "Mitch, please tell me. This might be important. On this one, trust me... please?" "It saddened me. I felt like crying and I didn't know if I could control myself. I didn't want to break into tears in front of her. So, I excused myself from the table and went to the rest- rooms. There, I managed to control myself, and after washing my face I came back." "You did not cry?" "No. I did not. Is it important whether I cried or not? You guessed that I cried a while ago... Well, it caught up with me eventually... here in the hotel," I replied, getting upset. "Mitch, I wasn't trying to embarrass you," Dana said, softly. "I was trying to figure out what happened, and both of your reactions. You're forgetting something... I told you that when she came to the crew lounge she disappeared for a short while, then returned with fresh make up and red eyes. I am pretty sure she had been crying." "I'm sorry... It's been a long day..." "I understand... I really do... I don't know how to ask this, but I need to ask something. I don't want you to get upset about it, OK?" After taking a deep breath and letting it out, I nodded. "Good, Mitch, try to relax. I studied nursing for a year--quit before I became a flight attendant--so I know something about trauma, extreme stress, and reactions. If the crying that caught up with you here was bottled up from that moment at the airport, you must have had a very significant emotional stress. How did you manage to keep it under control at the time?" "I don't like to talk about that." "Why?" "I am sorry." "It's a medical curiosity, not a personal one. I remember how you looked in the airport, and how you looked after the shower when you walked into this room." "It's... something like meditation... Does that help?" "I see... Yes, that does answer some questions. Thank you. So... what happened next?" I wasn't aware of what I was doing. Almost on autopilot, I recalled the memory of the afternoon, and what we talked about, and the final point of our goodbye. While I went through the scenes in my mind's eye, I gave her an almost verbatim account. When I managed to pull myself from the past and return to the present, she didn't say anything. I looked at her, and found her taking occasional sips from her wine glass, while giving me curious glances. "Is... is there something wrong?" I asked. "No, nothing's wrong... It's..." She hesitated for a few seconds, before asking, "How do you do that?" "Do what?" "The things you told me... the afternoon, as if watching from a distance, and with so much clarity?" _Ahh! My curse._ "It's... It's part of that meditation thing. I can recall a lot if I pay attention. Certain things are easier to remember... like hurt, or happiness." _Especially if I had been in the moment!_ "And you also remember the times with her? The shared moments, happiness, hurt?" she asked. I nodded. "What a burden," she said softly, her tone sad and sympathetic as well. If I didn't know better I would have agreed with her. But, nothing is simple; nothing is black and white. Yes, those memories had been a huge burden at times, but they had given me relief as well. The happy memories, they were treasures. The painful memories, they gave a meaning by contrasting the happiness. I have come to realize the duality of its nature. Yin and Yang. On the other hand, nobody needed that kind of recall-- including me. "A rose is not a rose without thorns," I said to give her a different perspective. She nodded her understanding. "But you're right; nobody needs that kind of recall. I know I benefited from that as much as I got hurt. I don't know if I could do without the ability. It's very much part of me, and I've come to accept it." "Mitch, how clear is your mind? How tired are you?" she asked, suddenly with a businesslike tone. I perked up at the sudden change in her tone, and the question she posed. "I'm feeling all right. A bit drained, but that's all. Why?" "Do you need to have some coffee, or a smoke to make yourself... I don't know... calm and alert?" "I can do with a coffee and a smoke. I'm doing fine. Really." "OK. Let me open a window while you order some coffee. There's something we need to talk about," she replied with a cryptic tone. I could sense her excitement at something, but I had no idea what it could be. After I ordered coffee, I went to the bathroom to relieve myself, and brushed my teeth. I like red wine, but I don't like the way it stains the teeth. That done, I washed my face, feeling refreshed. * * * * * CHAPTER - 5: Revelations When I returned to the room, Dana was by the window--smoking-- with a cup of coffee on the window sill. I filled a cup for myself, and lighting a cigarette, took a position next to her, watching the city lights, and listening to the traffic. After a few sips, I finished my coffee, and placed it next to her cup. There was something nagging at the back of my mind about Dana... That kept me coming back to why she was trying to help me, help us... But, it kept evading me. It was Dana, who broke the silence. "Mitchell, since you seem to have a very good memory, I want to check something. Are you sure she was talking about the present time, when she talked about the pilot she was involved with?" "Well, I'm very sure she said 'He loves me'. There was no mistaking that... She meant, now. Also, she didn't talk as if she was talking about the past. At least that's the impression I got. Why? Is it important?" At my question, she flashed a strained smile, and said, "Let's finish our smoke and coffee, then talk about it. There's no need to rush things." I accepted her reasoning, and changed the subject. "You know, you're very good. Is it nursing training that makes you so good?" "Partly, I guess." "I think, you are a remarkable woman. You're kind, and you care about people. What made you quit?" I asked. "You are an interesting young man, Mitch. You see things others don't. Why did I quit nursing school? I guess, I couldn't handle the misery and suffering. I wanted to help but... After talking to a few nurses, and spending time in the hospitals--observing--I realized the pay was lousy, the hours were long, and the emotional burden was overwhelming. I was too young to be able to deal with it. Now, I get to see the world, different people, and sometimes I'm able to do something nice, and help people. Best of both worlds." "I have to say, you're doing a very good job of it. I don't talk... about things... and yet..." As I was saying those words, my mind got busy with her words as they seem to ring a bell... the things that were nagging at me since the airport... There was a faint glimpse of something... but what? "You are reserved. You don't make friends easily, do you?" "I used to... well, to a certain degree... But in the last few years..." "I understand... It must have been a difficult period." "We all carry our own wounds..." I told her, and then on a hunch, I added, "You seem to cope with yours very well." Her eyes shot wide open in shock. I took a step, and pulled her against my chest, gathering her in my arms, before she had a chance to react. I hugged her to me firmly, trying to make her feel safe, secure, sheltered. Leaning in to smell her fragrant hair, I whispered, "It's all right, Dana. It's all right. Tell me about it." I kept rocking her, and after her initial shock was over, she relaxed into my arms. She looked up to ask, "How did you know?" "I'm not sure. It was something nagging at the back of my mind. How things happened in the airport, then here in the hotel. Your apparent concern. And how you seem to understand and how we seem to connect... Little things that didn't fit. You are a very beautiful and caring person. Very kind and generous. And you don't hide those qualities. But, you don't seem to have anybody in your life. I couldn't see why, unless... you didn't want them. That made me think." She seemed to accept my explanation. She laid her head on my chest, and wrapped her arms around me, relaxing herself into my embrace. It felt good to hold her in my arms, and I couldn't help but wonder about the differences between two women... and the similarities... _Come on, pay attention. She's not here. Don't day dream! Dana's here and she needs you. Now! You know she's worth it. Be in the moment._ My inner voice was right. I needed to be with her, right this moment. After several minutes, she extracted herself from my arms, giving me a rueful smile. "I think it's my turn to ask; do you want to talk about it?" I said, trying to lighten the mood. Her smile was much warmer, but she replied, "Not yet." Seeing the disapproving look on my face, she added, "But I promise, I will... OK?" "I will hold you to that." That earned me a laugh, "Somehow I know you will, so I won't even attempt to evade." I took hold of her hand and gave it a kiss, sharing a tender and special moment. Picking our cups, we took our respective seats, me on the armchair and she on her bed. "You said she was hurt," Dana said, "and perhaps using the men. I think you are right. From what I had seen of her relations, she moved on without a second thought, but..." She paused to think about what she wanted to say next, and continued with a question. "Did you ever wonder if she was self-destructive, perhaps punishing herself?" _Huh?_ I wasn't expecting that question, because it came from left field, without any warning at all. I could hear the gears turning in my mind to assess the question, looking for clues, trying to come up with an analysis. "Stop! Mitch, stop. Don't rush it." As soon as she had my attention, she urged me to calm down. "Easy Mitch, take your time." "You caught me with that question. What made you ask that?" "I'll explain, but you need to be calm. There's something you don't know. It kind of changes the picture. I don't want you to get worked up, and lose concentration or... get your hopes up." _Hope? Get my hopes up? For what?_ I was getting agitated by her cryptic words, but remembering her warning, I tried to calm myself. I closed my eyes, and took a walk along the beach, doing my shallow breathing, and watching the sunset. Strangely enough, I managed to do my exercise very quickly, maybe because I was with a friend, and in a place where I felt comfortable, safe and secure. When I opened my eyes, I saw her watching me. She got off the bed, and knelt by my side. Taking hold of my wrist, she found my pulse... and measured it. When she was finished, she was chuckling. "Strong and steady pulse. Lower than normal, as if you're resting. Is it difficult to learn?" "The basic part isn't. It's a matter of breathing evenly, and conjuring a place you feel comfortable, relaxed, and safe. There are advanced levels of breathing exercises, and techniques to empty your mind, or help you conjure up a place. I haven't learned all the mental techniques, I just know a bit about how they are supposed to work. But, I have good memories of places that I can recall and concentrate on. I know some of the breathing exercises. You might want to pick up Yoga. It teaches you how to relax your muscles, and how to breathe." I knew some advanced mental techniques, but I didn't want to talk about them. I had experimented when my training required, but I hadn't felt comfortable. I had put them aside long time ago, and never picked them up since then. "Did you practice Yoga?" "Uhh.. No... not really." _Go, it was long ago! It had scared the shit out of me that first time, when I had touched 'it.' The second time hadn't been bad. At least, I had discovered its true nature..._ _But, what use is it to go there? Unless, I need the edge. Perhaps, Sensei was right when he said I would find it if I ever need it._ I had kept at it a few times more, practicing, getting to know _it_, but still, I had been reluctant in my forays, before I finally quit all together. She gave me a quizzical look, but decided not to delve further. Picking up an ashtray, she placed it on the nightstand, where she could reach. She lit a cigarette, passed it to me, and lit another one for herself. I wondered if the gesture was to make me feel more comfortable. If it was, she was doing a very good job of it. "Are you afraid of shocking me?" I asked. "Was I that obvious?" she responded, amused. "No, not really. I think I'm recognizing patterns." "I see... Well, it isn't really shocking, though it might give you a surprise. Mitch, what I'm getting at is, she was lying when she said she was involved with a pilot. We've been flying together frequently over the last several months, and she hasn't been involved with anybody... definitely not anybody from the crews. She doesn't flaunt her relations, but she doesn't hide them either. With the amount of time we've spent together lately, I don't see how she could keep a relationship so secret. She was keeping busy with the work, and that didn't leave her much free time. Come to think of it, she wasn't partying as much as she did, and her last fling was almost half a year ago or so." That was indeed a surprising revelation. "So, what do you think is happening?" I asked. "There is definitely a break in the pattern. She never went more than a month or two without getting involved with somebody. I had seen that myself, and I hear things. It's a small world. Everybody knows everybody." "She might have one-night-stands in the meantime, but the general pattern seems to have changed." I was thinking out loud, without realizing what I said. "Yes, I would say so. There is another thing," she said, grabbing my attention immediately with the tone of her voice. "You remember that I told you she probably cried when she returned to the lounge?" I nodded. "I haven't seen her cry over anybody. She would shrug, and say it was fun while it lasted, and move on to the next relation. Most of the time, she was the one who broke off relations. Her reaction to you, lying about a non-existent relationship, and her later behavior in the lounge are contradictory, unless... Considering all I've heard from you and what I know about her, if I had to take a guess, I would say she has feelings for you, Mitch. She probably has had them for a long time." "I'm not sure I follow your reasoning. I know I felt something from her, but her signals were clear. She wasn't interested in pursuing _us_, and she didn't want me to pursue _us_. I think we both know that she knew how I felt about her then, and still do now, even though we didn't talk about it." "That's where it gets a bit... complicated. I think it has everything to do with her past, and your earlier history. You were correct when you said she was hurt, and that made her change, become a user." "We agree on that, but how does that relate to what you said?" I asked. "In the dance of mating, the male is supposed to be the initiator, the hunter, and the female is the hunted. In reality, the female decides whether she'll take a male as a partner or not. However this doesn't change the fact that male is the aggressor, so to speak, whether he'll be successful or not. Are you with me so far?" I nodded. "Now, in most cases the dance is more complicated. Both partners step forward and backward, testing the waters, and the chemistry between them, trying to find a suitable rhythm if there's one to be found. In her other relations, she allowed herself to be chased and captured. In your case, she was doing the chasing. From what I heard about your earlier history, she was the initiator. She decided when to move to the next step. That means she was interested in you. Of course, you must have chased her, but you were taking a more passive approach, whereas she was taking a more active role. This happens, but not so regularly and consistently. There's always a role reversal along the way, sometimes several role reversals. In your case, that never happened, at least until very late." "So you're saying, because I never took the initiative, she lost interest, and moved onto other men..." "That could happen, but I don't think that's the case here. You are forgetting she was a user before you, and she continued to be a user. She might have used you, but I don't believe that. First of all, she seems to recognize that you two had some kind of a chemistry. Her mood change indicates that. Second, letting her take the lead, you forced her to take the initiative. She could have easily moved onto somebody else; give another guy a signal, then let him chase her. That was more her style. If she saw you as an interesting challenge, then of course, she would go after you, taking the initiative. The thing is, she knew you were interested in her, and serious about her. In a way, you were chasing her but not actively. Are you with me so far?" she asked. "Yes, I see what you're saying. But, she changed as soon as I got serious, so in a way, as soon as I took the initiative she started to push me away," I said. "Yes, she did. The thing is you never changed. When she was flirting with other guys, you didn't judge her. When she turned her attention back to you, you were there but letting her be. She initiated the intimacy and decided how you two interacted. That was one constant. The other constant is her reaction to you. You said, the very first moment you two met she took it slow, almost cautious, compared to how she was with other people when she met them the first time. I think she recognized the chemistry, and you both come to realize that. And, that _chemistry_ didn't change. You said that the last two times when things were cooling off were as good as before, and afterwards she was loving, until she put her mask back on." "Yes. They were." "I think she loved you, Mitch. She discovered that she could love and not be used. She was definitely not used by you. Whether she was using you or not, she was using the other men, but she was also letting herself be used. That's another thing you got right. And I believe she must have realized the difference." "OK. I understand what you're saying. Let's assume she felt something for me. But she chose to ignore it, and she kept on doing what she used to do... until now." "Think, Mitchell. I asked you if you ever thought she was self- destructive," she admonished me sharply. "You're saying... she wasn't ready for it, or she was scared?" "Most probably, but there's another possibility. In fact, it complements what you said. You told me that she told you she wasn't ready for commitment. I guess she was also scared of the things you evoked in her... the chemistry. I think that's a real possibility. If I hadn't come to know you a bit, I would have discarded the description you gave about your intimate moments as a figment of your imagination. But, you seem to have a firm grasp of what's real and what's imagined. And you are very sensitive, however reserved you might act," she said, pausing dramatically to make her point. When I tried to shrug it off, she immediately seized upon it. "Don't give me that, Mitch. Give yourself some credit. I think I have an idea of what you're capable of. What's more, I suspect I might be only scratching the surface." That last remark made me blush with embarrassment. "No need to be embarrassed about something like that. Just don't let that remark go to your head, OK?" I nodded. "Where were we? Oh, yes. Scared... That's a real possibility. Complementing all that however, is her love for you. I think she loved you enough to let you go. When you broke up, she didn't chase you back. Do you think you could have resisted if she chased you?" I shook my head. "Maybe I could have resisted for a short while, but I think she would have succeeded. Very easily. I loved her." "And she knew that. She could have used it. Why didn't she?" she asked, making her point. I went over all the things we discussed and what she told me. "She loved me, and she wasn't ready for commitment. She let me go, because she didn't want to hurt me. Hurt me more than she already had," I replied. "Precisely." "She was already self-destructive, and she felt... guilty... about us. So, she kept on punishing herself... Is that what you're saying?" "Something like that. If she didn't feel guilty then, she probably did later. I think in the airport, today, she must have. Why else would she lie, and try to keep you away, trying to make sure you are OK? She still felt something for you," she said. "She may have broken with her earlier patterns. Six months is a long time for her... and the encounter today, brought things home?" I added. "I think so. We might be wrong about some things, but I think it's safe to say she loved you and she still has feelings for you. Now, she had the chance to pick up the game, and play it again. She didn't. The question is, what could you do about it, and if she would be willing to participate. There's a real danger she might be scared of being hurt, being hurt worse than before, and unwilling to take any risks." Then she gave me a grave look, mixed with apprehension. "Mitchell... this is very important! It carries an immense responsibility! If you decide to take the initiative... it might not only destroy her, but yourself as well," she said, her voice laden with sadness and sympathy. "I know," I said, my voice reflecting the same heaviness. With a tired sigh, I continued, "But there's no helping it. I can, of course, walk away from it. Considering the alternative and the possibilities, that might be best. I have to think this through carefully and, now is not the right time for it." I stood up stretching my legs, then held out my hand to Dana, and helped her to her feet. Picking our cups, we made our way to the table for a re-fill from the thermos. I offered a cigarette to her and lit it, and lit another one for myself. Taking a sip from my coffee, I left my cup on the table, and went to the window. I opened it wider to get some fresh air. A few minutes later, Dana was standing by my side, watching the lights of the city. Some twenty floors up, we had a good view. Although I was watching the view, I was well aware of her presence. She was taking care not to invade my personal space, even though I could sense her need for contact-- a touch, perhaps a hug. She was a remarkable woman, and I gave a silent thanks to whoever was watching over me. I went back to the nightstand to pick up the ashtray, and returned with it. After putting out my cigarette, I asked, "It's cold, isn't it?" "Not very," she replied. I stepped behind her, and wrapped my arms around her belly, pulling her to my chest. "There. I think you'll feel better." She sighed and relaxed. I waited until she finished her cigarette, but did not release her. "You know what's coming next, don't you?" "I think I have an idea... Dr. Mitchell!" she retorted in an amused tone, making me laugh. "Good. So, you know how doctor patient relations work. Now, this doctor prescribes a glass of wine. The patient doesn't complain and takes her medicine," I replied falling into the role. When she turned and looked up, I gave her soft kiss on her forehead, and guided her to the bed. Once she was comfortably settled there, I took the bottle from the floor and filling her glass, I handed it to her. She patted the side of the bed, asking me to sit by her side. Then, she told me the story. It was bad. About six years ago, she had been dating a guy. Over a period of ten months they had fallen in love with each other and decided to get married. One night, while he had been away for a business trip, she was assaulted and raped by a burglar. Aside from the trauma of rape, the doctors had told her she had little chance of having a baby. At first, her fiancé had been very understanding, and helped her through psychological counseling and therapy. However, once she pulled herself through and managed to get her life back, he broke up with her, because he had wanted to have kids, or so he said. In actuality, that was only one of the reasons, because he hadn't touched her since the rape. After the break-up, she fell into depression for a while, but managed to gather herself again. Since then she had had a few relations, but none of them had worked out. "What about your current boyfriend?" I asked. "It's not serious yet. It's pretty new, and he knows about my past." "How did he take it?" "He took it better than most others. He's not concerned about my inability to have a child. We're getting to know each other, and I get the feeling he is serious, but I'm being cautious." "That's understandable, Dana. Do you love him?" "It's too early to say anything. But, yes; I have feelings for him. I think he loves me as well. He's been very understanding and patient with me," she said pointedly. "You have not..." I asked. She shook her head. "We haven't been seeing each other very long." "Are you afraid he'll turn into one of those bastards? Is that why you keep him at arms' length?" "Maybe... I'm tired of relations that don't go anywhere..." She started to cry. I quickly gathered her in my arms, trying to sooth and calm her. Slowly, she quieted down to mostly sniffling. I laid her on the bed, and went to the bathroom. I ran the hot water and wet a towel, then squeezed the excess water. Picking up some tissues, I returned to the room. She blew her nose, then used the hot towel to wipe her face. When she finished, she picked up her glass, and took couple of sips. Taking the glass from her, I placed it on the nightstand. "Dana, you're a wonderful woman. You are a gentle, caring, loving person. And beautiful. Any man worth his salt would die to have a woman like you. You've nothing to fear. It's their loss. If my heart wasn't already taken, I'd be the first," I said. Looking at her in the eye, I added, "I might still do that... considering the options I am facing at the moment." That earned me an slap on my arm, and a rebuke, "You don't know what you're saying." "I do! And you madam, are getting feisty before I even proposed. No wonder..." I quipped. "You are terrible," she said with a small laugh. "Yeah, I know. What can I say?" I retorted. Then, on a more serious note, I said, "You know what I mean. You are a wonderful woman. I'm not saying this just because of all you've done to help me. I'm glad I've come to know you." Gathering her in my arms, I gave her a kiss on her forehead. When we parted, she looked relaxed and happy to have unburdened herself and shared with me. I was glad to have known her, but a bit sad that I couldn't do more for her. I didn't know how to help her. I hoped that what she had shared with me helped her. "Thank you, Mitch. I'm glad to know you as well." Checking the time she said, "It's getting late. I think we should get some sleep." "Will you be all right?" I asked. "I'll be fine, Mitch, how about you?" "Oh, I think I'll be asleep before I touch the pillows. You want to use the shower first?" "No. You go ahead, get some rest," she replied. Giving her a goodnight kiss, I went to the bathroom for a pit stop, and a quick shower. Finished with my ablutions, I knocked at her door, telling her the bathroom was available, and headed into my room. Wearing only my boxer shorts, I crawled in between the cool sheets. _Finally! A comfortable bed, and sleep!_ Those were the last thoughts before I fell into an uneasy sleep. * * * * * (continued in next part, 3/5) <2nd attachment end> <3rd attachment, "tfauc-pt-02.txt" begin> Title: Tales from an Unknown Corner Chapters: 06-11 (of 20) Author: Dai_wakizashi Universe: Tfauc Summary: Journey of a troubled young man looking for a path and people around him, who, at times, give shape to his journey. Codes: MF, FF, MFF, oral, anal, toys, petting, romance, drama Status: in progress Revision: 2.0 Web Sites: ASSTR- http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/dai_wakizashi/www/ SOL- http://storiesonline.net/home.php EWP- http://www.ewpub.org/ewpub.html Discussion Forum: http://www.ewpub.org/messageboard/viewforum.php?f=76 ***************************************************************** STANDARD DISCLAIMER This piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment. It contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT read any further. All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to any persons, places, individuals or situations is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities described in this story. This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author, Dai_wakizashi (dai_wakizashiAThotmailDOTcom). This story may be freely distributed with this disclaimer attached. Copyright (c) 2003-2004 Dai_wakizashi. All rights reserved. ***************************************************************** TALES FROM AN UNKNOWN CORNER [Tfauc] CHAPTER - 6: A Gift My sleep was restless. At one point, I remember feeling a cold draft on my back. While I was slowly rousing up from my sleep, I felt the bed sag and a warm hand running on my back in a soothing manner, massaging. Then there were the whispered words, "Sssshhh! Just relax, and sleep," repeated like a mantra, urging me back to sleep. I remember the hands being replaced by the warmth of a soft body molding itself against my back, spooning. An arm encircled my body, tender fingers caressing my chest, lulling me to sleep with their gentle caress while cuddling me. The rhythmic blow of hot air on my neck and shoulder from the steady breathing, interspersed with soft kisses... urging me to relax and sleep. I was too tired to respond, and the almost hypnotic manipulations of the hand and the whispers were difficult to resist. I was enveloped by the warmth of a female body, giving me shelter and guiding me into a deep, dreamless sleep. Somehow I knew I was in the care of loving hands. That was the last thing I remembered. Several hours later, I woke up, coming out from deep sleep. The transition was gentle, going through gradual steps, from sleep to half-awake to fully awake, with a dreamy quality... a very pleasant experience compared to how I usually woke up at the rig- site--a sudden lurching wakefulness. Before I woke up completely, I knew Dana was spooned behind me. Her breasts were soft pillows, the heat of her lower belly warming my lower back, and her arm clutching me with a gentle hold. I listened to her steady breathing, content to be in her arms, her body a warm comforting presence. I felt at peace, with myself, and with the world. As my senses came fully awake, I opened my eyes. A full moon was supplying the illumination through the half-open drapes, bathing the room with a soft, diffuse light. I knew I was well rested, and couldn't go back to sleep. Yet. I was undecided, caught between wanting to soak and lose myself in the feel of this gentle woman, and wanting to watch her sleeping form in the soft moonlight filtering into the room. I didn't want to disturb and wake her up prematurely, so I stayed in the bed for quite some time. Eventually the decision was taken out of my hands, when nature came calling. I extracted myself gently from her embrace, being careful not to disturb her, and got out of the bed. After the pit stop, I decided to brush my teeth and tongue to get rid off the dead mouse that seemed to have found a home in my mouth. Back in the room, I moved the armchair to face the bed, before taking a seat. I watched her sleeping peacefully, with her hair half spread on the pillow, and half covering her delicate features. She was a vision of beauty, but that was pale compared to what I had come to know; her inner beauty, the gentle, loving, caring soul she had shared with me. As I thought about what she had gone through, my anger flared at the unfairness of it all. She was a rare treasure, not only as a woman but as a human being. As I continued to watch her sleeping form, I slowly came to the realization that anger had no place, here, in this room, especially in her presence, and I let it go. That was a surprise, because I had very rarely let go of my anger before, usually only when it had started to overwhelm me. Most of the time I suppressed it, or kept it under careful control, always close by, at my call. _What did you do to me, Dana? You, sweet, gentle soul... what kind of magic have you used on me? Thank you... I wish I could help you some way. I'm sorry I haven't been much of a help to you._ With these thoughts running in my mind, my heart ached for her and her pains. At first, I didn't notice it, not until my vision got blurry. Even then, my first thought was I must be getting sick. When I felt the first drops of tears on my chest, I realized, I was crying. I ruefully thought, 'I'm turning into a regular crybaby,' but I didn't fight it. It was a quiet cry, the tears running steadily, until they came to a stop on their own. I wiped my eyes, and cheeks, then took a quick look at Dana and saw her still asleep. I was ready to go back to bed, but there was one more thing I wanted to do before that. I wanted to remember her, as she was now, an angel sleeping. All the time we've spent together was already in my recollection, but I didn't want to leave anything to chance. If over time some of them faded, I wanted a special one that would stay with me for a long time. She was one of those rare people with whom I felt a special bond. I wanted to make sure that this moment was captured; a small part of her forever a part of me. I regulated my breathing, and went about clearing my mind. Once that was done, I let what my eyes were seeing fill in the empty space. Then recalling memories of her voice, her fragrance, the feel of her body as I held her in my arms, the heat of her body as she spooned with me, I added them to the image. When I was satisfied with the results, I cleared my mind, and after several deep breaths, I stood up and stretched my muscles. Now, I was ready for a couple more hours of sleep. I carefully got into the bed on Dana's side, with the intention of spooning with her, but I realized my body was ice cold. Pulling the sheet and the blanket over me, I waited until my body was warm, and rolling on my right side, I gently molded my body behind her. At the contact, she started to rouse, almost waking up, but then relaxed to my embrace. My left arm encircled her and she instinctively moved my hand to her right breast, and pressed her body against my chest. Pushing her ass back, looking for more bodily contact, she molded herself to me. I realized she was half-awake. I heard a soft sigh escape her lips, and in a few minutes, she faded into a deep slumber, her breathing steady and slow. A while later, I fell asleep, cuddling an angel that had crossed my path. * * * * * I must have moved sometime during the night; when I woke up, I was on my back. Dana was on her side, half draped on my body, her head resting on the crook of my arm, her right arm thrown carelessly on my chest, and a firm breast pressing against my right side. She had her right leg over and entwined between my legs, her hot juncture and pubic hair resting on my right thigh. To my consternation, I realized she was completely naked. At least I had my boxers on. It was early morning and dark, with little illumination. I guessed the full moon was probably setting down. When I turned my head to inhale her fragrance I felt her hand move, drawing, tracing patterns. I responded by caressing her from shoulder to hipbone with my left hand. She looked up with sleepy eyes. "Good morning, beautiful," I said. She raised herself a bit and slid up, her right hand brushing my cheek with her fingers. "Good morning, handsome. How did you sleep?" "Like a baby. How about you?" "Best sleep I've ever had," she replied giving me warm smile, then put her head on my shoulder. Her right hand was busy caressing my neck, and down my shoulder and chest, tracing patterns, raising goose bumps with her featherlike touch. "Do you mind that I came to your bed?" she asked. "No. Just surprised," I replied, wondering why she had. Perhaps she heard my unspoken question, or perhaps she wanted to explain herself, because she said, "I couldn't sleep for a while... restless... decided to check on you, and you were having an uneasy sleep. I guess I felt lonely and wanted the company as well." I kissed her on top of her head, but then I chuckled at the thought of spending the night with this gorgeous woman, remembering we had chosen a suite to have privacy. "What's so funny?" "Oh! It's nothing." She rose up, looking at me. "Come on, fess up. What's so funny?" "It's your question. How can any man, let alone a 25 year old hormonal guy, mind spending the night in the arms of a gorgeous woman like you?" I replied. She gave me an admonishing look. Then, softening her expression, she said, "You aren't hormonal, Mitch. You are a gentleman. Otherwise I wouldn't have been here." I offered sincere thanks for her compliment. She had an unreadable expression on her face, and her eyes seemed to be searching for something... but for what, I didn't know. "Are you all right?" She nodded, giving me a smile, "I've never been better." Then she lowered her face, and kissed me on my lips, taking me by surprise. It was a gentle, caring kiss, but there was a subtle hint of passion that made my blood course faster, waking me up. Pulling back, she gave me the same searching look, then her face broke into a smile, her lips curling with amusement, as if she knew something that I did not. "There is a lot that can be said for being a gentleman, but... like anything else, it shouldn't be taken to excess." I looked at her and blinked, confused, before... _Is she saying what I think she's saying?_ She lowered her face and gave me another kiss, full of passion, taking my breath away, and bringing my blood to a boil in mere seconds. I sure was awake if I hadn't been before. When the kiss ended, I was panting, and I could feel my pulse in my temples. Her heat on my thigh was already starting to burn me. I saw her self-satisfied smile at the effect her kiss was having on me. I gave her a questioning look, but all I got in return was a small nod and a soft smile. Before I could react, she straddled me, and lowering her torso to my chest, she started rubbing her erect nipples against my chest. I wanted her... but this was going too fast. I wanted to slow things down a bit. More importantly, I wanted to make sure this was what she really wanted. I pushed myself up to an almost upright sitting position. Then I wrapped my left arm around her, pinning her torso to mine. Using my right arm as a pivot, and my legs as leverage, I quickly but carefully flipped and rolled our bodies, getting a surprised shriek for my efforts. Once she was on her back, I extracted my left arm behind her back, and put my hands on either side of her torso to support myself, looking at her. She was watching me with curious eyes, although her desire was clear. Putting my arm down to support my weight on one elbow, I lowered my body, and with my free hand, I brushed her temple, down her cheek, neck, and then up behind her ear. When I leaned for a kiss, her hands reached to clutch my neck and pulled my head down. She kissed me with a fierce passion and hunger. There was no question about what she wanted, but my overworking mind was questioning her motives. As the kiss ended, I looked in her eyes searching for answers. Sensing my hesitation, she reined in her passion, and asked, "What is it... Mitch?" "You don't know how happy I am to get to know you. You'll always be a part of me, Dana. Whether we do something or not." I replied. She gave me a brilliant smile. "I know that. And I am happy to get to know you. You'll always be part of me, but... but, I want to have a special memory from you. Of you." I sensed that was what she wanted, and her eyes were telling me the same thing and more. She knew years from now, I would remember what we were going to share and that was what she wanted. Her gift to me. The emotion of the moment caught me like a violent storm, and I felt my eyes getting moist. "Mitch. This is not therapy. This is happy making, and I want this to be my gift to you as well as your gift to me," she said, and pulled me down for a soul kiss, making me lose myself in her. When the kiss was over, I lifted my body, and sitting on my heels, took a good look at her. "I think I'm overdressed for this party," I said, and went about removing my boxers. She spread her legs in invitation, feet firmly planted on the bed, and knees raised. I could already smell her arousal. On my knees, I crawled between her legs, and hunched over her body, one arm supporting my weight on the side of her torso. I brushed my fingertips, tracing soft, teasing patterns from her forehead to her cheek, then to her neck. Down to her shoulder, I moved to her collarbone, then headed south to her tits. She had great tits, full, firm, yet they were soft without being saggy or flat. Lowering my lips, I gave teasing licks to her left breast, evading the nipple. Making small circles, my tongue moved closer to her nipple. After licking her areola, I moved to her right breast, repeating the same pattern. Her breath was catching and she raised her chest urging me to take her nipple, her hand reaching out to pull my head down to her breast. I quickly raised my head. Getting hold of both her hands, I gently crossed them and held them above her head with one hand. Transferring my weight to that hand, I had my other hand free to stroke and tease her breasts. When I was restraining her hands, I paid careful attention to her reaction, looking for any signs of anxiety; her violent experience in the past not far from my mind. She wasn't scared being under my control, but she was getting impatient. To appease her, I quickly captured one nipple, gently licked it, and closing my lips around it, applied suction. When it was hard, I gave little nips with my teeth. Her back arched, and I could hear her breathing getting heavy. She had sensitive nipples. Turning my attention on the other nipple, I licked and sucked it to hardness. Her hips were active, rolling, twisting. I spent several minutes teasing her breasts and nipples, using my hand, and lips, and tongue. Lowering my body, I let her nipples dig into my chest while kissing. By Gods, did she know how to kiss! Lifting off her, I let go of her hands, but she kept them there, watching my next move. Kneeling, I rested my weight on one hand, and I ran my fingers under her breasts, cupping them and pulling her nipples, gently twisting them. Then I traced my fingers down her sides, and onto her belly, feeling it contract. I moved down, kissing and licking as I went. Soon I was settled between her legs. Bypassing the strategic places, I started with the insides of her right thigh, licking, kissing, and running the back of my finger and nails over her smooth skin, making her shiver. I repeated my attentions on the other thigh and, sensing her impatience, I relented. I moved my hand to her pussy, which was clean shaven except for a narrow patch of hair over her mons. Her labia were already swollen, and seeping some moisture. I slid a finger between her folds, collecting her dew, and ran it along her slit, parting her lips, drawing a soft gasp. I could feel her heat, and I couldn't wait longer to taste her, so I leaned forward to kiss her labia. Extending my tongue, I licked from bottom to top, trying to get a good taste, while spreading her lips further, and felt her shudder. Her oils were light, almost watery, and tasted great. I started to work on the inner lips, giving quick licks, and her hips started to get active. I applied a little suction on her labia, slowly making my way to her clitoris, which was peeking out from its protective hood. Licking around it, I gave it a soft swipe with the bottom part of my tongue, making her jerk. I put my hands on her inner thighs, and spread her legs further. She raised her hips and her hands clutched my head, guiding me to lick her the way she wanted. I followed her lead. While my tongue was busy, I removed one hand, and slowly inserted a finger. She was tight and hot. And very wet. The abundance of her oils helped me to penetrate her channel easily. I slowly stroked my finger, and added another finger... and rotated them. Forming a hook, I went looking for the 'on' switch. If what I had read in Playboy was true, her special spot should be somewhere in the roof of her channel. Concentrating on what my fingers were 'seeing', I continued my search until I came across a bumpy spot that felt different than the surrounding area, when she gave a little yelp. I gave a soft experimental rub, and almost got my lips cut when she suddenly jerked her hips up, with a shriek. _Yayyy! Jackpot!_ I moved my hand from the insides of her thigh to her belly to restrain any violent reactions as much as possible. I started licking and sucking around her clitoris, with an occasional direct swipe, and rubbed her special spot with my fingers. Her hips went crazy, rolling and jerking, her hands pulling and pushing my head, almost ripping my hair. There was no way I could restrain her violent reaction, so I just tried to keep my mouth and fingers in place. I was enjoying myself too much, so I didn't let go. Her little shrieks changed to soft mewling sounds. I eased up a bit to let her catch her breath, before resuming my attack with increased vigor. She started a soft wail, and her hips started to shake, and I could feel tremors running across her belly. Her hands pulled me hard to her pussy. She slammed her hips to my face... and she froze, giving a moan that ended with a small scream. I felt her pussy fluttering around my fingers, as her channel got even wetter. Her hands pushed my head away, and taking the hint her clitoris was feeling sensitive, I focused my attention on her labia and inner lips, while stroking my fingers very slowly, giving occasional and featherlike rubs to her special spot. She was panting as if she had finished a 100 yards dash interspersed with occasional mewls. I gave her soft slow strokes with my fingers, and once her flutters stopped, I pulled them out slowly. Giving a long swipe with my tongue, I probed inside her channel as far as I could, enjoying her taste. I finished my attention to her pussy with soft licks. When I looked up, her eyes were droopy as if she was ready to fall asleep, with a contented smile on her lips. I kissed my way up her body. Supporting myself over her, I leaned in for a kiss, wanting to lose myself in her. Her arms came up, encircling my back, and she pulled me down... hard... surprising me with her strength. This lady was a real tiger. All my weight was on her, her breasts crushed under my chest. When I tried to lift myself up, she was having none of it, insistently pulling down, so I succumbed, luxuriating in the lush feel of her body. Then she locked her lips to mine, and gave me one of her passionate kisses, making me forget everything. When the kiss ended, I was hot as a firecracker, my erection throbbing with urgency against the inside of her thigh. I was scared I would pop before I had a chance to get inside her. It had been quite a long time for me, and what's more she was way beyond any girl I had been with. I lifted up my body, keeping contact with her breasts. Then it occurred to me I had to get to my suitcase for condoms. I never thought I would get lucky, and now I was caught unprepared. I was pondering how to get to them without breaking the mood, when she noticed something was up. She gave me a questioning look. "I-I... ummm... I hate to break this moment, but I need to get to my suitcase... for condoms," I said. "Mitch, are you clean?" she asked. I nodded. She said, "I'm also clean. It's been quite a while, and I have always been careful." When I gave her a questioning look, she nodded. "I think we know each other well enough to trust. I want you like this. I want to feel you... all of you inside me--flesh-to-flesh. Is that all right?" she asked. Instead of answering her, I kissed her. While we were kissing, her hand reached down, and I lifted my hips to allow her hand some room. Finding me already hard and ready, she rubbed the head between her folds, coating it with her oils, then guided me into her entrance. When I eased forward, I felt her wetness and heat. With short strokes, I started to slide into her tight channel, taking my time to make sure I was properly lubricated. She was really tight, but I could feel her trying to loosen to ease my entry and her wetness helped. She felt like liquid heat. I hadn't felt that kind of heat before, but then I had not been with too many women. Pulling her knees up more, she placed her heels on my buttocks, urging me to go deeper. Completely inside, I took a look at her. Her blue eyes were intense pools, full of passion and warmth. I felt I was drowning in a sea of love. I wanted to kiss her, but I knew if I did, I would lose it before I even started making love to her. I started with short strokes, and when I felt her get used to me, switched to long strokes at a slow pace, enjoying her slick channel and heat. I changed between long and short strokes, making sure I was grinding my pubic bone to stimulate her clitoris. Her hips were rolling and twisting and then, I felt her use her inner muscles, catching me by surprise. She was already tight to start with, and when she started using her inner muscles, there was no way I could last, so I buried myself in her depths and stopped my strokes. She urged me with her heels, and threw her hips at me, but I ignored her. Giving her an earnest look, I said, "If you want to enjoy this, you have to ease up on me, OK? Otherwise, I'll pop very quickly. It's been a long time, and you're feeling fabulous. I can't last if you keep that up." She stopped massaging me with her inner muscles and let me drive. When I calmed down, I started to stroke again at a slow pace, and kept it up for quite some time, changing the pace and the length of the strokes. Supporting my weight on one arm, I teased her breasts. Then, hunching, I sucked on her nipples, nipping them with small bites. Lowering myself, I kissed her neck, while rubbing my chest on her nipples. I could feel she was getting closer, and I was moving along as well. I wasn't sure if I could hold out until she came, so I slowed my pace further. But this time, she was having none of it, and urged me on. "Mitch, please. Let go. I want you to let go," she said. When I didn't comply, she threw her hips at me, trying to fuck me, while rolling them. As if that wasn't bad enough--or good enough depending on your point of view--she started using her inner muscles, again. When I gave her a warning look, she answered with a remorseless grin. I could feel the tingling sensation at the root of my cock, and knew I was getting ready to unload. To distract her, I took several short hard strokes, and was pleased to see her catch her breath. For a moment she faltered with her internal massaging and eased up on me. So I kept up the hard short strokes. But with her tightness, I was getting there faster. The stimulation was too much. I was desperately trying to find a way to make her come. Pulling her knees more, she locked her feet on my lower back, which tilted her hips, changing the angle, and allowing me to penetrate deeper than before. I took couple of hard short strokes, taking advantage of the position, and then with a long slow stroke I penetrated as deep as I can. I didn't want to come, yet. "Come in me, Mitch. Give it to me," she said softly. I was struggling to keep myself from unloading in her, and I saw her give me a shake of her head as if to say 'don't hold back.' I gave her a pleading look, but for all my trouble she answered with a grin like a cat that's about to swallow a mouse. Seeing how much she wanted it this way, I gave up my efforts to control the burning feeling in my balls, letting out a resigned sigh. "Yesss. I want it... all of it," she said, her throaty voice driving me crazy with desire. To make her point, she gave a teasing, almost playful smile and started to milk me with her muscles, making me squeeze my eyes shut with pleasure, and drawing out a moan. I opened my eyes, not wanting to miss her eyes glittering with arousal. She was really enjoying making me cry with pleasure, and I found myself lost in her blue eyes, letting her carry me over. When she felt me pulse, her face lit up in joy, and she pulled me in for one of her soul kisses. It was an overwhelming experience. The combination of her kiss and the milking actions felt like I was being drained at both ends. Like a candle being burned at both ends. As my pulses weakened, she kept her milking action, drawing out my pleasure. Then, I felt her moan in my mouth, and she broke the kiss. Her hands moved to my shoulders and her fingers dug in painfully. She looked like she was having difficulty breathing. Then her back started to arch, and her nipples dug into my chest like hard pebbles. I lifted off her body, supporting my weight on my arms, to allow her to breath more easily. Her eyes closed, and she sucked in her breath, before starting a soft wail. I felt her pussy flutter, not the regular massaging she had been doing, but erratic flutters. Realizing she was coming, I ground my pubic bone into her, trying to stimulate her clitoris. The way she arched her back offered her breasts to my tender mercies, so I took advantage of the situation. Hunching myself, I captured one erect nipple and sucked at it... hard. Then nipping it between my teeth, I pulled it gently, making her scream. Switching to her other nipple, I repeated the treatment. Then she relaxed, and sank into the bed. As she was starting to come down, I licked her breasts and suckled her nipples. When she opened her eyes, their intensity fixed me. They were enormous pools, and I felt like I was drowning in their depths. So blue, azure blue and swirling... I could feel the after effects of her orgasm, the ripples in her belly, and the occasional trembling that coursed through her body. I leaned for a kiss, and she grabbed me in a fierce hug, pulling me down hard, wanting my weight on her body. I acquiesced, and while lowering my body, slid my hands under her, taking my weight on my elbows, and hugging her. She writhed, rubbing her breasts against my chest while locking her lips to mine for another of her trademark kisses. It left both of us breathless and panting. I felt like I had gone through the wringer, completely drained, and drowsy. I didn't want to fall asleep. Especially with my weight on her body. I started to kiss her neck and shoulder, luxuriating in the lush feel of her body. "Stay inside me, Mitch," she whispered. For several minutes, we stayed like that, entwined. She unlocked her feet and put her heels on my ass. I was semi-hard, going soft, and she started to massage me with her internal muscles, making me gasp. I licked behind her ear, and nuzzled her neck, making her shiver. I gently admonished her. "Behave." Even though I was enjoying her attentions immensely, I wanted to catch my breath for the second round. She laughed, and with a playful tone she asked, "Am I too much woman for you?" I rose up, and looking straight in her eyes, I replied, "You know you are." We both knew the score there. I was happy that she had come, and I wasn't bothered that I lasted such a short time, and came before she had. She cupped my face in her hands, and giving me a loving look. "Ahh! Sweetie. I didn't scare you, did I? You're fun. Much more fun than you can imagine. I loved it." Then moving her hands to my neck, she pulled me in for another kiss. By Gods, I never enjoyed kissing as much as I did with her. She gave me a couple of hard grips using her inner muscles, making me pant in her mouth. When we broke the kiss, my head was spinning. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she kept her gaze on me, and started to roll her hips suggestively, making us both break out in laughter. I hadn't recuperated yet, I needed a bit more time. I'd never had a partner like her before, with such control of her vaginal muscles. Her playful nature, how she shared herself with me, endeared her to me, with the other things I felt for her. I wanted to cuddle with her, and enjoy the feel of her body. "Can we change position... you know roll over, so you're on top? I want to cuddle, and feel your body on mine." "As long as you stay inside me," she replied. Carefully we rearranged ourselves, so that we could roll over without breaking our connection. Once I was on my back, she reached for the sheets and the blanket, pulling them over her lower back, before draping herself over me. Then she put her arms on my chest, crossing them and resting her chin on them. "Why didn't you let me drive? You almost missed it," I asked. She gave me an amused smile. "I had already come, if you remember. And I was so hot to have you come inside me... I _really_ wanted to feel you coming in me. I knew you might not last, and wanted to drive you crazy." "Well, you did." With a self-satisfied grin, she said, "Good. It was a trip. You may not realize that, but it was a real trip, doing that for you." I could see her point. It had been a trip, and she had enjoyed it. That wouldn't have changed if she hadn't come. I felt her grip me. When I gave her a questioning look, she replied, "Oh, I don't think we are finished yet," like a spoiled child who had been given a new toy, making me laugh. "Gods, Dana. I may be young and hormonal, but I'm not sure I'll survive you," I retorted. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you survive. That's another thing you'll come to know. At a certain age, we get to be insatiable, but not too insatiable to waste a stud like you," she replied, with a teasing grin while she continued with her internal massaging. "I think I'm getting the idea," I retorted. Then in a more serious tone I added, "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you, Dana. I'm not talking about what we did, although that's part of it." When I raised my head, she leaned, and we shared a soft kiss. _Could I say it? Should I say it? If I can't say this to her, then to whom can I say?_ "I love you," I whispered. Her eyes widened for a moment, then she gave me a long appraising look. "I love you too, Mitch... but--" I shushed her. "One has nothing to do with the other. I know how I feel about you... and her. I love you. You'll always be a part of me." I cupped her face, giving her a look that said I meant it. I was coming to realize the depth of my feelings for this woman, and when I thought about it, the intensity of my feelings surprised me. "I'll never have enough of you. What we shared is only a small part of that. You have a piece of my heart. I can't change that. I don't want to change that," I said with a conviction born out of certainty about my feelings for her. With that, I wrapped my arms around her, caressing her back. She put her head down on her arms, and relaxed into my cuddle, but I sensed she was perturbed. I didn't want her to think and worry about our little exchange. Moving a hand to her neck, I massaged several spots softly. There were several nerve bundles that if stimulated in the right manner helped a person to relax and fall asleep. I hadn't used the technique before, but with the post coital glow and lethargy, I thought it would work on her, and make her fall asleep or at least relax. Unfortunately, she wasn't as lethargic, and after five minutes into the massage she asked, "What are you doing, Mitch?" "Sssshhhh! Just relax. This will help you rest for a short while, and you need it. Trust me." She gave a sigh, and let herself be guided to sleep. A little later, she was breathing slowly, sleeping. Grabbing hold of the sheets and the blanket, I pulled them over her shoulders, covering us. My hands were busy running on her back, easing her into deeper sleep, and after a while, I followed her blissfully into sleep. * * * * * CHAPTER - 7: Surrender I woke up to a strange sensation of being tickled. When I opened my eyes, I saw her watching me with amusement. I realized she had been using her hair to tickle me, running it on my shoulder and face. The room was awash with light, and I realized the sun was up. "Feeling frisky?" I asked. She laughed, then replied, "No. Your friend woke me up!" To make her point she clutched me a few times, and I realized I was still inside her and erect. "Sorry. What can I say? I don't think I will ever have enough of you, Dana." Sliding up a bit she gave me a passionate kiss, then looking in my eyes, she said, "I love you too, Mitch." I cupped her face, and said, "I know." Then our lips locked, and she brought me to a burning fever, my penis throbbing inside her. When we broke the kiss, I asked, "Do you want to drive?" She smiled and nodded. We were glued, so she went about getting us unglued. Once she accomplished that, she rose up and pulled her knees to the sides of my pelvis and straddled me. Grabbing hold of my penis, she lowered herself, taking me inside her. Once I was buried deep inside, she made small sliding motions, rubbing her mons, trying to stimulate her clitoris while clutching me with her inner muscles. She varied her moves by rolling her hips, or with side-to-side, back-to-forth rocking motions, taking her time to bring us up. I was busy cupping and massaging her breasts, teasing her nipples. When her breathing changed, I slid one hand to her juncture and rubbed my thumb over her clitoris, wanting to bring her over. She shook her head, but I smiled and ignored her. I had enjoyed her playfulness, coming to appreciate how great it could be. What's more, I wanted her to have a taste of her own medicine, although I wasn't exactly sure if I could pull it off. _What the hell. Go for it. The worst that can happen is she'll fuck you to death. There are worse fates._ The thought made me smile, but Dana took it as a challenge and gave me a warning look. When I stuck my tongue out, she started to laugh, her tits quivering in a fetching fashion... Yummm!!! She leaned in for a kiss, and when our tongues started to duel, she captured my tongue between her teeth, giving it a nip, then released it. Breaking the kiss, she lifted up, holding herself hunched over me with her hands on the sides of my torso. "That was a warning, Mitchell. Don't fuck with me," she said with a playful tone. "I am not fucking with you. You're fucking me... Well, that's not exactly true. We are making love." However, as if to contradict myself, I gave her long and hard strokes and kept applying pressure on her clitoris with my thumb, making her arch and offer her breasts. Not missing the opportunity I raised my head to capture her nipple, then applied a gentle suction, and raked it with my teeth. I heard her pant and gasp, but did not let up in my ministrations. I wanted to feel her come. When she started to shake, I took long slow strokes, moving her along and felt her freeze in mid-stroke. I buried myself as deep as I could and, switching nipples, nipped it lightly while my thumb went crazy on her nubbin. I felt her inner muscles relax and then flutter like crazy. Her breath caught, then she let out a moan. When I saw her arms shaking, I pulled my hand from her clitoris, and held her under her armpits with both hands, supporting her weight, and gently lowered her on my chest. Reaching down, I cupped her ass cheeks, and gave her short hard strokes to keep her going. When her trembling started to subside, I stroked her back and brought her down. A few minutes later, she raised her head, and asked, "Did you have fun?" "Look who's talking?" I retorted. She answered with an unabashed smile, then said, "It was fun, wasn't it? Now. I want you to fuck my brains out and come in me." "I would love to, but first, I need to make a pit stop and have a sip of water or something. I'm thirsty. How about you?" "Yeah, I'm thirsty too, but I want to keep you inside me. It feels soooo good." "Mmmmm... Same here. I can wait. Love this." About ten minutes later, I knew I couldn't postpone the call of nature. She realized the problem, and with a resigned sigh, lifted her hips, releasing me from her warm shelter. She was still playful, though. She gripped me while pulling off. "You know, that stunt will make you wait even longer," I said, good-naturedly. "You are _mean_," she retorted. "It's got nothing to do with being mean. I just can't go when I'm this stiff," I replied. "Damn! I didn't think about that! Oh, well," she said, shrugging. "If I must, I must." However, her eyes were smoldering with arousal, contradicting her words. "Yeah? Than I am the Pope," I retorted, teasing her. Laughing, she came back with, "I don't think so. Otherwise you wouldn't be standing at attention." I know when I'm licked, so I shut my mouth, and headed for the fridge. Taking some ice and a bottle of water from the fridge, I went about filling two glasses. I returned the bottle into the fridge and closed it. Taking the glasses, I went back to Dana. Before I gave her the glass of water I leaned in for a kiss, and she sat up to kiss me. When our lips met, I moved my hands to her tits, with the glasses still in my hand. She had great tits... with lovely nipples... and I wanted to see them perky and hard. I was hoping she wouldn't get too angry with me. When I touched her breasts with the cold glasses, she gave a shriek, and jumped back. Quickly I stepped to the side, and put the glasses on the nightstand. After her retreat she was moving in to hit me for my stunt, so I caught her arms, and crossing them, I held them above her head with one hand. She struggled, but couldn't escape my grip. Looking at her eyes, I moved my other hand to one of her breasts... slowly. She started to struggle, trying to escape my grip, so I stopped the advance of my hand. When she stopped her struggling, I eased my grip on her wrists, and then freed them from my hold. I waited for her reaction. She put her hands on the bed, watching me, and I slowly moved my left hand to her breast. When she didn't move, I gently cupped her right tit, and felt her shudder from the cold. While rubbing her nipple between my fingers, I reached for one of the glasses and took a sip, catching a piece of ice. Turning back to Dana, who was watching me with curiosity, I leaned in, and gave a cold lick to her other tit, making her shudder. She wasn't aware that I had the little piece of ice in my mouth. Gently sucking her nipple, I let the ice slide over my tongue, and pressed it against her nipple. I felt the little nubbin swell and harden and, removing my lips, I chewed the ice and swallowed it. Capturing her nipple, I gently sucked and nipped it with my teeth. And felt her shudder, again. Easing my attentions, I looked up at her. "Dana, if you haven't realized it by now, I'm a tit man, and I couldn't resist that stunt with your great tits. I love seeing them so perky, and your nipples so hard." Then reaching for the other glass, I gave it to her. Picking my glass, I downed it, leaving the few cubes in the glass. Tilting it to my palm, I got the cubes, then taking a deep breath, I cupped the ice cubes to my cock and balls. At first, it was a shock, but it wasn't that bad. When I was a teen, I had ice cubes dumped in my swimming trunks more times than I care to remember. I had also done it to friends many times and, as they say, paybacks are a bitch. Seeing what I was doing, Dana gave a gasp when I cupped my balls and cock with ice cubes in my hand. Before the cold got bad, I removed my hand, feeling my erection wilting. Seeing the curious look in her eyes, I said theatrically, "The things we do in the name of love..." She let out a laugh. "Well, if you haven't done that, I was planning to do the same... after the stunt you pulled on me. Paybacks and all that..." she retorted with a snicker. "You wouldn't..." "You want to try me?" she dared. I didn't, and putting the glass on the nightstand, I went to the bathroom. After relieving myself, I stepped into the shower, to wash away the dried cum and her juices. The warm water felt good after the ice cubes. Drying myself, I returned to the room, finding Dana waiting for me sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs spread and feet on the floor. Her pussy lips were swollen, and slightly spread. Her tits looked perky and her nipples were very erect. Her eyes were smoldering in arousal and expectation, with a mischievous twinkle mixed in. She directed me to stand in front of her. I was wary of what she had planned for me but curious as well, so I stood in front of her. She told me play with her tits, and I touched them gently. They were cold, and I realized she had used the ice on her tits. The nipples were diamond hard. When I cupped her tits, and started tweaking her nipples, she gave a sigh of pleasure. My hands were warm from the shower, and to her cold tits, they must have felt hot. Keeping eye contact with me, she reached out to hold my semi-erect penis. I steeled myself for the cold feel of her fingers, but was surprised to feel warm fingers gripping me gently, making my penis throb at her touch. She gave a small smile at my surprise, and then opening her mouth wide, she took me inside, without letting me make contact with her lips or tongue. Then she sealed her lips, and swirled her tongue around my penis, making me yelp with surprise. Her tongue and mouth was cold. Not only that, but there were small pieces of ice on her tongue, probably from a piece she had chewed. She had a very talented tongue, and with her soft lips she was applying a nice suction, making me swell despite the cold feel of the melting ice and cold tongue. Her eyes were laughing at me, satisfied that she had caught me unawares. Since I was semi-hard she easily swallowed my whole length several times, sucking and licking and swirling her tongue. As I hardened, she let out more and more of my length. I was panting, and gasping with her efforts, and my legs were starting to shake. The cold and warmth, the suction, and the teasing tongue had me hard in no time. Opening her mouth wide, she tried to take as much of my length inside as she could, letting me slide on her tongue. Then closing her lips, she let her tongue go wild, and slowly pulled back applying a strong suction, making me moan. It felt like she wanted to pull my balls through my cock. When I popped out of her mouth, the head of my cock was an angry purple, swollen, and throbbing. I wasn't anywhere near coming, but her efforts had given me a rock hard erection. "Mmmm... Looks ready for action," she said. "I don't think so," I replied, and when she gave me a questioning look, I said, "It is only half ready without your soul kisses." "You like them?" she asked. "They take my breath away." When I leaned to collect my kiss, she locked her lips, and in a few seconds had me burning with fever. When I stood up, I pointed to my erection, which was harder than ever. "See. That's what you do. But that's nothing compared to what you do to my insides or to my heart." She leaned and placed a soft kiss to my belly, pressing her check against my stomach. She wrapped her arms around my lower back. I put my hands on her shoulders, rubbing and massaging, when I felt her tremble. I didn't realize she was crying, until I felt the wetness on my stomach. Concerned, I extracted myself gently from her arms, and knelt between her legs. Cupping her face in my hands, I looked at her. "Dana... what's with the tears?" "You make me happy." I wiped her tears with my thumb, and kissed her. "Are you sure they're happy tears?" I asked. "Yes, they are, Mitch. I'm really happy. " After giving me loving kiss, she said, "You will make me much happier in a few minutes." She continued with a throaty tone, "I want it hard and fast," emphasizing both words and hitting something primitive inside me. Then she moved up the bed. Settling comfortably on her back, she pulled her knees to her tits with her heels on her buttocks. Holding onto her knees with her hands, she spread her legs. The view she gave was almost obscene, wantonly displaying herself, offering her womanly charms unabashed. I could see her labia swollen and spread open, giving me a peek at her pink interior. The way she offered herself without reservation, and the way she was inviting me into her body made my blood boil, and I was having difficulty to control my urge to pounce on her and pound her to oblivion. She knew the effect she was having. Even if she hadn't said what she wanted, her actions would have conveyed her meaning. With a knowing smile, she teased me. "See something you like?" The tone of her voice combined with the smell of her arousal, and the view she was giving me made my nostrils flare with desire, and I wanted to ravish her. But, I didn't want to hurt her. I knew even though she might be slick with her juices, she was tight, and I couldn't just jump on the seat and start pounding her into a mush. What's more, I didn't want a fast fuck, I wanted to make soft, sweet love to her. Her words gave me an opportunity to slow things a bit so, giving her a growl, I said, "Yep. My breakfast and I'm very hungry." Cupping her sex as if to protect it from my attentions, she said, "Oh, no, you don't. I'm not clean and I'm burning. I want you to take me. Hard and fast. Please?" _Give her what she wants. That's what she wants!_ My inner voice was right. It wasn't my decision. She had stated what she wanted, and was offering her body the way she wanted, without any reservation. _What a woman!_ I nodded my agreement, and crawled onto the bed. "I want to ravish you. You don't know what you're doing to me. Or may be you know what you are doing," I said with a growl. "But I want to make sure you're ready. I don't want to hurt you, OK? I love your taste, and I want to sample it. May I? I'll give you what you want, but I want a small snack before that," I added with a smile. "Not too long! I can't wait. I'm too hot," she said, while removing her hands and placing them on her legs to keep herself spread open. I knee walked and cupped her cheeks. Before I dug in for my breakfast, I saw the half-full glass of iced water on the nightstand, and had a brilliant idea--to cool her off a bit. Sitting back on my heels, I asked for the glass of water. She put her feet on the bed, twisting to reach for the glass, when she realized what I was planning. Turning back to me, she shook her head, denying my request. When I insisted, she gave a resigned sigh, and reached for the glass. Just when she had it in her hands she stopped for a moment as if something occurred to her mind, and put the glass back on the nightstand. She lay back on the bed, gave me a mischievous smile, and said, "Leave it for the time being. I have a better idea." When I gave her a questioning look, she laughed, and then said, "It's a surprise. You'll like it. In fact, we will both enjoy it. Trust me. It's going to be great. Come. Eat me." I was puzzled by her cryptic words, and was curious about her surprise, but she seemed very enthusiastic about what she planned, so I decided to follow her lead. When I lowered my lips to her pussy, her smell took my breath away, hitting me like lightning, making me throb with desire. I could feel her heat without touching her. Her clitoris was already out of her protective hood. She was really ready. I wanted to loosen her so that I wouldn't hurt her when I was inside her pounding away. Dipping my tongue inside her channel, I collected her oils, enjoying her taste, and started to lick away at her inner lips, making her tremble. Then slowly I inserted one then two fingers, and went about loosening her tight channel. She was burning inside. I was tempted to rub her special spot and make her come, but I knew that wasn't what she wanted. Still, I wanted to give it a try. Raising my head, I looked at her, my fingers busy stroking slowly. I rotated them and forming a hook, I touched her spot, making her hips jerk. She shook her head, "Please, don't." I nodded and slowly removed my fingers. She was ready as she could be, and I wanted to be inside her. When I moved up her body, she stopped me. When I gave her a questioning look, she said, "Time for my surprise." She directed me to stand on my knees, and sitting up, she took the glass, and took a sip of water and an ice cube. Chewing the ice, she reached for my cock. Cupping my balls, she gave a smile, and I knew what she was planning. She was going to blow me with the melting ice and water in her mouth. She had done that before, so I didn't understand what's the big surprise, but decided to let her continue with whatever she planned. It was sure to be something. As she took my cock in her mouth, the cold made me shiver. Her mouth wasn't cold enough to wilt my erection, even when she pressed her tongue with the melting ice pieces against it. It was an exquisite feeling, like the previous time. Her tongue was very active, teasing me, while she applied a gentle suction and stroked me up and down. She stopped to take another sip with more ice, and went about giving me an ice blowjob. Taking me as deep as possible she applied stronger suction, and pulled up, letting me slide over her tongue, and popped me free from her lips. She put the glass back on the nightstand and rearranged herself as before, knees drawn to her tits, legs spread wide. "Now, you're ready. I want you to take it slow. When you are all the way in... then you can start... flailing away!" The last quip was delivered with a teasing smile. I tried to give her a hurt look with puppy dog eyes, but she was really funny, and I couldn't hold myself and burst into laughter. "You know, you're really wild," I said, when I caught my breath. "I know. You make me wild and hot as a firecracker. Come on, stud. Time's a wastin'," she replied. At her 'hot as a firecracker' comment, I remembered how hot she was inside her channel, and then it dawned on me... what she had planned for us. With the ice blowjob, my entire dick was cold. It was getting warmer, but she made sure she had lowered the temperature quite a bit. _Holly shi-- She'll kill us both. The heat of her slick channel on my dick, and the coldness of my dick inside her pussy will shock us senseless._ My eyes must have widened with my realization, because she gave a knowing smile and said, "It's going to be a trip, and I can hardly wait." "Gods, Dana! You want to kill us both?" She nodded playfully. "You didn't think I would let you fuck me to death without killing you as well, did you?" I quickly positioned myself over her, my arms supporting my weight on the sides of her torso, with her knees tucked under my arms, and said, "I hope we won't end up in the front page of a tabloid. 'Couple found dead while fucking each other to oblivion'. I can see the caption and a juicy picture with relevant parts censored," I quipped. She laughed at the mental image I was painting for us. Reaching down she guided me to her entrance, while saying, "Then we better hurry. We wouldn't want to disappoint the readers, would we?" As I had suspected, before the head made contact between her labia, I could feel her heat. She felt like a furnace. At the first contact we both hissed. Then my glans parted her lips, and entered, and it felt like I was dipping into molten lava. Dana tilted her hips, to give me an angle that provided the deepest penetration... and the most sensation. She was very wet, as was my cock from the blowjob, so I pressed in slowly, savoring the sensation and making both of us moan. When I was all the way in, I ground my pubic bone against her, making her sigh in pleasure and close her eyes. Before the temperature between my cock and her channel could adjust, I pulled back slowly, till I was at her entrance, and waited for a few seconds. Wet with her juices, and out of her hot channel, I let my cock cool off, before plunging back slowly. I wanted both of us to enjoy this new experiment as long as we could. I repeated the full strokes, staying out of her for a few seconds before entering her slowly. As she said, it was a real trip. She was shaking and trembling, her head rolling from side to side, her breath coming in short gasps and pants. After several strokes, I buried myself, and held inside her while waiting for her to catch her breath. When she opened her eyes, they were heavy with arousal, smoldering, and she gave a long sigh. When she was breathing normally, I quipped, "The experiment was a success, and we didn't lose any guinea pigs." She laughed at that, then retorted, "You think so," and I could hear the unspoken, 'but you are sadly mistaken'. She must have caught what I was thinking in my expression, because she gave a knowing, playful smile, and licked her lips. I knew what she wanted, so I leaned in for a kiss. Releasing her hold on her legs, she brought her hands and clutched my head. While she was sucking the life out of me with a passionate kiss, she started to roll her hips and clutch me with her pussy, making me scream into her mouth. Then putting her hands on my shoulders, she broke the kiss. When I managed to catch my breath, she said, "Now, buster. Start pounding that pole. Make me scream. I want it hard, and fast. No gentle stuff, OK?" And that's what I wanted to do. I could hear the blood boil in my veins, and my pulse throbbing in my temples. Not only that, but my cock was rock hard and wanted to plow her insides. When I started to pull back, she stopped her clutching, so I could stroke fast. I started with slow short strokes, then built up to longer, harder strokes. Each time I plowed in, she gave little yelps, and she started a string of obscenities, urging me on. When I increased my pace, she started to pant and gasp. Her litany was replaced by mewls, and short screams. Her channel was looser from all my pounding, and I hoped she wouldn't be sore. My balls were wet with her juices, and we could hear the liquid sounds of our joining. Her heady smell was all around us, increasing my arousal. When I switched to short and hard strokes, she caught her breath, and she started a wail that turned into a scream. Her neck and face was flushed, and with a sharp shriek, she started to shake and tremble. Her pussy gripped me hard, halting my movement, but I forced myself all the way in. When my pubic bone hit with the momentum of my stroke, she gave another scream. Then her pussy went wild, and her channel got even wetter. I started strong and long strokes to keep her going, but with the flutters, and her tightness, my pace was erratic, even though she was very wet and slippery. Slowly, the flutters ceased, and I managed to keep a steady stroke, reducing my pace, trying to enjoy the friction created by her hot channel. She was coming down, but her breathing was still erratic. I switched to short, hard strokes, trying to make myself come, and she started to wail again, her head shaking side to side, her hair whipping around. I kept up my stroking and in a few minutes I was ready to blow my load. I knew she was close so I slowed to long strokes trying to hold myself. When she felt me slowing she started to throw her hips, but because of the position she was, she didn't have any leverage. Sensing she wanted it hard and fast, I increased the pace of my strokes again, hoping she would make it before I came. I felt the head of my cock expand, and I knew there wasn't anything I could do to stop the oncoming flood. I pulled back till I was at her entrance, and plunged down hard into her depths, and she screamed. I was pulling for a second hard stroke, when I felt her grip me. With difficulty, I pulled all the way back, then forced myself in as far as I could, drawing another scream. I felt her relax her grip and quickly pulled back again, and I felt the heat move from my balls and travel the length of my cock. Quickly, I plunged back into her depths, drawing another scream, and stayed there. I felt the first burst and it made me shudder with the sensation or pent up release, then her flutters started, milking me. It was very intense, and my arms started to shake and I could feel a dull pain where her fingers dug into my shoulder. I rested part of my weight on her knees, almost collapsing from the sensation. My pulses were over, but her erratic fluttering kept me hard, and made me tremble. There wasn't anything left inside me to pump, but my cock was still throbbing, helped along by her amazing pussy. A few minutes later, my breathing was returning to normal. I rose up on my hands, taking my weight from her knees, which were pressed hard against her tits, bending her in half. Dana's eyes were squeezed shut, her nostrils flaring. Her panting was interspersed with soft moans. Her body was still trembling, and her fingers were claws on my shoulders, clutching me hard. Transferring most of my weight to one arm, I reached to stroke her face, and slowly her breathing got steadier. After a minute, her eyes opened slowly, but her eyes were unseeing at first. When she managed to focus on my face, she gave a tired smile. She tried to wet her lips with her tongue, but gave up. Wetting my tongue, I leaned and tried to wet her lips with my tongue, then locking my lips, I dueled with her tongue, while breathing into her mouth. When I broke the kiss and took a look, her eyes were closed. She took several breaths and then opened her eyes. She looked incredibly beautiful. Enormous blue pools, softened by the lethargy, held me captive in their depths, and I felt my semi- hard cock throb. Feeling me throb inside her she gave an appreciative moan, and her eyes closed. She tried to clutch me, but couldn't pull it off. She must have been really exhausted. I throbbed again, drawing a moan, and her eyes opened in alarm. She tried to glare at me, but when I throbbed, her eyes closed, with her body shivering at the sensation. Taking pity, I quit teasing her, and gave a soft kiss. Lifting my body, I tried to free her knees and legs from under my arms, so that she could let them down and stretch. At first, she didn't realize what I was doing, but when I used my hand to gently push her knee, she got the hint and let her legs spread comfortably. Finally, she was somewhat back to her senses, and opening her eyes, she gave me a look of unadulterated joy, turning my insides to mush. She released her death grip on my shoulders and tried to hook them behind my neck, but they flailed lifelessly and slid down my arms, catching us both with surprise. Seeing her so exhausted, I smiled at her with a self-satisfied expression. She tried to grimace, which made me grin, and she gave up, closing her eyes. I knew she was trying to marshal her energy to come back at me. She was a fighter. Before she could start anything, I tried to throb and ground my pubic bone. Her eyes opened in panic, and she moaned softly. Seeing the helpless look, I nodded in understanding and quit my efforts. Once she was feeling more alive, I leaned, and she gave me a long soul kiss. Before it ended, she gripped me with her pussy, making me moan into her mouth. I didn't return the favor by throbbing inside her. Breaking the seal between our lips, we both sucked air and continued to kiss. My position was a bit awkward, hunching and leaning down, so I lowered my body, sliding my hands behind her shoulders, taking my weight on my elbows. When my chest made contact with her tits, she sighed, so I put some of my weight on her, enjoying the feel. When we broke the kiss, I was surprised to see her leak around her eyes. I suspected they were happy tears, but still I was concerned. When she opened her eyes, they were moist, brimming with more tears. I gave her a questioning look, but she replied with a smile. It assuaged part of my worries, but I wasn't convinced. This was strange. There was something else mixed with happiness. Trying to figure out what was hidden in the depths of her eyes, I went over what we had shared, but I couldn't come up with any answers. On the other hand, I had discovered that my feelings for her ran deep, very deep indeed. I was captivated by this wonderful woman, wanting to be with her more than once, and my want wasn't just sexual. I wanted to spend more time with her, and get to know her better. We both wanted to have a happy memory, and the sex had been fun and loving. However, even though it was supposed to be light- hearted fun, it had become something more than either of us had planned. There was something deeper, a connection, hidden beneath all the fun and games we played. In some ways, sex is the most basic communication between two people. How she responded to me, how I responded to her... and then... those kisses... her gentle, caring nature... generosity... the empathy we had... the little things... Now, I was discovering a deep connection that I had rarely felt. She was the second woman that made me feel this way. Home! I knew I had given a part of my heart to her, and now, I realized I wanted to give her more than that. I wasn't sure if I was falling in love with her, but I knew I loved her. I had known it when I had first woken up during the night. _How is it possible that I can fall in love with two women?_ I leaned for another kiss. Instead of one of her soul kisses, this was more restrained, as if she was holding herself back. When we broke the kiss, I looked up. Her tears had subsided, but her eyes were still moist--with a soft expression in them--and she was watching me carefully. "What is it, Dana? Are you sorry?" She shook her head. "Can you tell me?" I asked. When I saw she was trying to work out an answer, I insisted, more gently. "Dana, after what we shared... I'm inside you... feeling your heartbeat, and heat... What is so terrible... that you can't talk to me about?" Cupping my face in her hands, she said, "I don't want you to fall in love with me. I don't want to fall in love with you." _Ahhh. So it's mutual. She felt the connection._ "You know how I feel about you. I can't change that. I told you I don't want to change that... even if I could," I replied. Fixing her with a gentle look, I continued. "I ignored or tried to ignore my heart for a long time. Look what it got me. I'm not going to make the same mistake again. Love is too precious a thing to discard carelessly. We both know that score." "But..." she tried. "I know it complicates things... for both of us. We'll take our time... we will figure out something." "It's not fair to her," she came back. "It's not fair to you... or me for that matter. She's not here. I'm here. You are here. I know that you don't want to come between us. And I don't want to come between you and your boyfriend. But, we shared and found something in each other. We can't set it aside as if it had never happened... Let's cherish it?" I could hear the wheels turning inside her mind. She was caught in what we had shared... Something far beyond what we had planned... but was it really like that? Why had our paths crossed? How had we moved along paths that brought us here, and now? She was trying to fight it, because it was going to complicate both of our lives tremendously. But then, wasn't anything worthwhile always complicated? If it were easy, would it be worth anything? Strangely enough I didn't feel any guilt. Not even about affecting Dana's life and her ongoing relationship. Perhaps, because I was seeing myself when I looked at Dana and what she was trying to do. "Dana," I called out softly. When I had her attention, I said, "It's too early to know or understand the nature of our feelings or what we want. I understand your apprehension. Neither of us planned for this to happen. I don't want to force you... I don't want to lose you... whatever happens. I just know... I love you. I want to get to know more about you. Is that wrong?" At that, she closed her eyes, letting the teardrops trickle from the corners of her eyes. I squeezed her tightly, then freeing my arm from under her, I brushed away her tears. I finished by kissing her eyelids, waiting for her to calm down. When she opened her eyes, they were clear. There was still doubt, but also a determination. "I love you. I know that, now... But, I'm... I'm scared of falling in love with you," she said. She brushed my cheeks with her fingers, and fixed me with a soft, loving look. "I tried... I tried really hard... but I love you," she said. Suddenly, something else clicked in my mind. "Was that why you wanted to have... a hard and fast fuck? To keep it light, casual?" I asked. Instead of answering, she closed her eyes for a brief moment. "Did it work?" I asked. "No," she replied with a resigned whisper. "I realized I wanted to be yours. I wanted to give myself to you. Taken completely." "And I'm yours," I replied. She pulled me for a gentle, loving kiss, without any reservations. When we surfaced to catch our breath, she asked, "What were you doing, up in the middle of the night?" changing the subject. "I-I was... memorizing you." Drawing a blank look, I elaborated. "I didn't know if I would ever see you again. I wanted to make sure I would have a special memory that would not fade over time, if other memories faded. I wanted a part of you, and seeing you sleeping like an angel... are you angry?" She smiled at that. "No. Besides, now, you have more than you bargained for, don't you?" "You knew that... your gift..." She nodded. She knew what she was doing at the time. Just then, my stomach grumbled, embarrassing the hell out of me. "That wasn't very romantic. Sorry." She laughed and said, "You can't subsist on love, or sex, alone. I'm hungry too." Giving me a long look, she continued, "I... I want what you want. I want to make love, slowly. But we'd better get some food before that. Otherwise... my sexual demands will kill you." Then, she started killing me softly with a gentle kiss. "Shower?" I asked. When she nodded, I raised myself and pulled out of her slowly to sit on my heels. Seeing her eyes shut, I took a quick look at her vagina, which was red, and looking a bit rough. "Are you OK?" Opening her eyes, she gave me an assuring smile. "A bit sore, but good sore. It's been a long time, and I had forgotten how good it can be." Fixing me with a lecherous look, she said, "And I want some more... sore or not." I got off the bed, and helped her to her feet. Her legs were a bit wobbly, and I had to support her. "I don't want to fall in the shower. I think you better help me," she said. The next twenty minutes were slippery fun in the shower. She had been fun in the bed, but she was just as much fun in the shower, funny, teasing, and loving. I was almost tempted to take her then and there, but I didn't want to spoil her plans for after breakfast. I couldn't keep my hands off of her, and she loved the attention. After we toweled each other, we returned to her room. I sat with a towel wrapped around my hips--tented with my hard- on--while she was getting dressed. She was amused to have me sitting there watching her, but she knew I was enjoying myself-- and her. When she finished dressing, we shared a quick kiss and I made my way to my room to get dressed, letting her get on with her preening. When I was putting my moccasins on, she walked into my room. _God! She is breathtaking._ I gave her an appreciating look, drawing a self-satisfied smile. "You look beautiful. Ready for breakfast?" I asked. "Thank you. You don't look bad yourself, sailor" she replied. "Do you want to go to the hotel restaurant for the breakfast, or eat here?" Seeing my confused look, she said, "There might be colleagues in the restaurant, and... well, I... I don't want to complicate things for you..." "Complicate things for me?" "I don't want to come between the two of you, and although nobody knows who you are, she might hear something." "Dana. I don't mind being seen with you. Nobody knows me, so the risk is small. It's a bridge far away and I'll cross it when the time comes, if ever. I'm more concerned about you. You have a boyfriend, and I don't want to endanger your current relation. Not more than... you know what I mean," I said with an embarrassed smile. "Since he works in the office, he might hear something from your colleagues. Do not, on my account, risk your current relationship. I'd rather have you make the choice. And, don't ever think you'll be hurting my feelings. I think we both know that neither of us will take any offense, or think less of each other!" Gathering her in my arms, I hugged her, trying to assure her I had no problems either way. "I'd like to have breakfast in the restaurant." When I gave her an 'are you sure' look, she pulled me for a kiss. Extracting herself from my embrace, she hooked her arm in mine, and said, "Let's go. I'm starving." * * * * * The restaurant was almost empty, with just a few patrons, mostly airline personnel. We helped ourselves from the buffet, and made our way to a table with a view of the city. When we passed the table where the airline personnel were having their breakfast, Dana and I stopped for a brief but civil greeting. To my credit, I didn't tighten up, worrying about Dana and possible rumors during the exchange. We were almost finished with our breakfast and having our coffee, when Dana asked, "What do you want to do?" That was a loaded question. Lighting a cigarette, I thought about my answer. I wanted to get to know her, and I wanted to know what she wanted. I wanted to see her and I wanted to make love to her. She smiled and said, "I meant, as in now." "Would you like to take a walk outside?" "Let's get our jackets." * * * * * After collecting our coats from the rooms, we went out. There was a small park nearby, so we headed there and found a bench. The early morning sun was weak, and didn't warm us, but it wasn't uncomfortably cold. I pulled her close, with my arm encircling her, and she rested her head on my shoulder. "How are you feeling?" I asked. "Confused. Guilty. What about you?" "Guilty? Because of your boyfriend?" "No. We aren't that serious yet. As I told you, it's a recent thing. We haven't invested too much time. Still trying to get to know each other." "That leaves me and her. Don't feel guilty about that. If somebody has to feel guilty, it should be me." "And you don't?" she asked. "Not about her. I feel guilty because it's not fair to you. I'm coming between you and your boyfriend. What's more, I don't know how I feel, or what I want to do about her. That puts everything in limbo. Especially you, in regards to 'us'. Do you mind if I use us?" "I don't mind _us_," she replied. "But, I thought you were in love with her." "That's the complicated part. I was--and still am--in love with her... to a certain degree. But the truth is, I'm not sure if I'm still in love with that girl from the past, or if I can make the leap to the new person she has become, which may have little to do with that girl. Besides all that, I don't want to hurt her. I just want her to be happy... it doesn't necessarily have to be me." "Mitch, you trust your instincts, don't you?" she asked, drawing a sharp look from me. She knew me well. With a tight smile, I asked her, "Whose side are you on, anyways?" She didn't have to answer that. I leaned and we shared a soft kiss. "You aren't much help, you know that? You push me to her arms, but pull me into yours at the same time," I said with a resigned sigh. I looked at her, to see if she took offense at my comment, but was relieved to see that she understood what I was talking about. She was setting me free, and I loved her more for it. I pulled out my pack and lit two cigarettes, and gave one to her. I contemplated my options, and I didn't like any of them. Not one bit. There were too many variables, undefined, with too much uncertainty. "Mitch." "Mmmmm..." "You don't have to solve the world's problems in an hour," she said, making me laugh. _God, I love you, Dana. You're the best thing that happened to me in years. I can't ask you to stay and wait for me. It's not right. Whether I go after her or not, I can't ask you to wait for me or love me._ I couldn't continue to see her. The thought saddened me. More than I realized. I loved her, and I had to set her free. For a moment, my blood ran cold with fury at the unfairness of it all. I felt like I was being cheated of a second chance at happiness. But, I knew it was self-pity that made me feel like that. As if sensing my thoughts, Dana ran her fingers at my neck, trying to sooth me. _How in hell did my life get so complicated?_ "Mitch, don't!" she said softly. "Huh?" "I know what you're thinking. Don't rush it. Give it time. You have the time." I didn't understand, what she was talking about... at all. "I'm not going to rush after her. I need to think it through, and I'm not ready for it." "I know that," she replied. _If that's not what you were talking about, what are you talking about, Dana?_ _Oh, no! You don't! I can't accept that. You've got your life to live. I don't want to hurt you as well. Once was more than enough. In hindsight, knowing how inevitable that had been at the time, still doesn't make it easy. But this one... we both know the score. That's walking into it with eyes wide-open. I can't bear the thought of wasting your life._ "Not on your life," I said with a hoarse voice, my mouth suddenly dry. She gave a long look, devoid of any expression. Averting her eyes, she took a long drag from her cigarette, and exhaled it slowly. "Dana, I can't let you screw up your life." Coming to a decision, she dropped the cigarette on the ground, and ground it out. Without a word, she extracted herself from my arm and stood up. Turning to me, she said, "It was nice knowing you, Mitchell Tanner." My blood froze at the coldness in her voice. Then she turned and walked away. I was stunned by the sudden turn of events... and just sat there, unable to respond in any way, watching her walk away. It was like watching an accident happen. You know, when time slows down, and you see the whole thing unravel... you know what's going to happen next, but you stand there helpless, and watch it happen from start till end, frozen to the spot. By the time I collected my wits, she was already on the other side of the street, walking in the direction of the hotel at a brisk pace. The woman I loved and may have fallen in love with was walking away, because I had hurt her, in some inexplicable way. I didn't understand why she had reacted the way she had. Hadn't she understood I didn't want to hurt her? I knew I couldn't let her go like that; not this way, angry and hurt. I owed her better. Getting off the bench, I started after her, almost running. * * * * * CHAPTER - 8: Second Chances I rushed in through the door, and saw her disappear behind the closing elevator doors. I walked to the elevators and waited for what felt like ages before the doors opened again. Stepping inside, I pressed the floor number. A minute or so later, I heard the chimes announce my arrival and the doors slid open. Standing in front of her door, I was still thinking about what to say, but having no idea what made her react the way she did, I gave up and knocked. Getting no answer, I decided to go to my room, and try the interconnecting door between our rooms. When I checked the door, I found it unlocked, so after knocking on it, I opened it and stepped inside. She was standing in front of the window, half turned away from me, smoking a cigarette. She looked dangerously calm, and for a moment I wondered if I would leave the room alive. Exhaling the smoke, she turned to face me, her eyes blazing with cold fury. If I hadn't been expecting something like that, I would have stepped back. Still, it wasn't easy to face, especially coming from her. "You have some nerve, showing your face here," she said with an ice cold tone. "I didn't understand... or like what happened there," I replied, trying to keep calm. She put out her cigarette in the ashtray that was on the window sill. Turning back, she made her way to me, fixing me to the spot with fire in her eyes, "And why the hell not?" "Dana, I didn't want to hurt you. I don't know what I did to--" I started, but before I could say another word, she cut me off. "You, don't know?... YOU DON'T KNOW!" she shouted, her voice rising dangerously. I didn't dare interrupt her, hoping she'd calm down on her own, but I would have been lying if I didn't think of retreating to my room to let her cool off. She took a deep breath, but she was far from calm. Pointing her finger at me, she said, "You talk about love, but you don't know what love is." She waited to see if I'd respond, but I wanted to hear where she was going with this. Interrupting her at this moment would have been futile. "You said you loved me. You said you didn't want to hurt me. Well, Mitchell, you did hurt me." Fixing her steely eyes on mine, she said, "Did you ever stop and ask what _I_ wanted? Did you ever ask if I wanted you to... to let me _go_?" _I didn't. Nope. I just rushed in trying to protect you. Even when you hinted at your wishes, did I listen to you? No._ "No, I did not. I didn't even consider your wishes," I replied as evenly as I could, but cringing inside at the realization of how fucked up that was... how badly I had screwed up. "You think that's what love _is_, what lovers _do_?" she asked. It was rhetorical. "Weren't you the one who said love is too precious to throw away?" she insisted, her eyes glittering with hurt and anger. _I said that, didn't I? Why did I try to throw it all away?_ _Because you were falling in love with her. When you were together, it felt like returning home. You wanted the second chance for happiness, and felt guilty wanting it._ "You know what hurt the most... Mitchell? Do you know how I felt walking back to the hotel? After sitting at the table with you, having breakfast, feeling your come drip into my panties... and enjoying the feeling?" At her words, a look of horror passed my eyes. Seeing my reaction, she said, "I didn't say that to make you feel guilty, but I will _not_ even try to deny how bad I felt." "I am sorry, Dana. I really am. I have no excuse. I know no apology can make it right." "I know you didn't mean it. I know you love me, and you were trying to protect me, but I don't understand why you would do what you did... the way you did, Mitchell? Decide on something for both of us. If you love somebody, you share everything with them. The good and the bad." "I didn't want to be a burden or another bastard in your life, but I wanted you. I felt guilty wanting you so selfishly. You made me happy, and I was bound to make you unhappy." "You are forgetting something, Mitchell. I'm not fragile. I would like to make my own choices, as I did this morning when I made love with you," she replied, her voice softer but carrying a serious tone. "I understand." She gave a long searching look then her eyes softened, the steely glitter disappearing. "Love sometimes hurts. There is no avoiding that, Mitch. You can't always protect others. You can't shoulder all the responsibility." She looked expectant, and I moved in to gather her in my arms. She came willingly, molding her body to mine, her arms circling my waist. We held each other for a long time. I tried to ease the hurt I had caused and give her some comfort. When she raised her head, I leaned in and we shared a gentle, loving kiss. Extracting herself from my embrace, she went to the bed. Next to it, on the wall was a control panel for selecting a few radio channels, and the hotel's private music broadcast. Turning it on, she went about searching for a channel with some soft music. After going through a few of them, she chose one of the hotel's music broadcasts. She kicked off her shoes, and asked me to sit on the armchair. Then, she sat on my lap sideways, tucking her knees, next to the side of my thighs, and put her head against my shoulder, leaning on my chest. When I kissed her forehead, and started to stroke her from her calves up to her knees she sighed, and relaxed. Her skirt had ridden up due to her position, displaying her thighs, and I took advantage of that to continue caressing her legs up her thighs, and then cupped her shapely butt. After a while, she asked, "Do you want to see me, Mitch?" "Yes, I want to. Thank you for giving me another chance. I hope I won't mess it up this time." "I'm not looking for promises, Mitch. I'm looking for some happiness and love. I seem to have found it with you, and you seem to have found it with me. We'll see where we go from there." I thought I had found more than that with her, and didn't reply. Sensing her eyes on me, I looked at her. She didn't say anything for a while, nor did she wait for a reply, but her eyes were scrutinizing me carefully. Then her expression changed, as if she had found something, and she said, "I thought it was too early for you to say that you love me, or even hint at falling in love with me, but I think I understand." "What do you understand, Dana?" "When we were talking about your past, you mentioned something like 'being at home.' Now, I understand what you meant. Is that what you were feeling when we made love?" I nodded. "Now, as well. Why do you ask?" "I wasn't sure. I suspected as much, but I thought it might be because we'd finished making love. I guess I feel like that too. This little fight helped me see it." With a tender look, she added, "I'm not making this easy for us, am I?" "It's all right, Dana. We are both hungry for love. I think that's part of what we feel, but I suspect there's more than that. We'll discover it in time." We sat there enjoying the moment, the soft music in the background filling in the quiet solitude. Elton John finished singing _Sacrifice_, then came the opening notes of a song I knew very well, followed immediately by the voice of Freddie Mercury. Just one year of love Is better than a lifetime alone One sentimental moment in your arms Is like a shooting star right through my heart _Was it 'us' you were talking about, Freddie?_ I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. This song just gained a new meaning, and I hoped it wouldn't prove to be prophetic. I felt Dana easing herself a bit in my embrace, listening to the song. Then she looked up. I could see she was concentrating on catching the lyrics, but her look was one of curiosity. I kissed her, then pulled her head to my shoulder, and caressing her back, I whispered, "Close your eyes and listen." Freddie kept singing; about rainy days and being a prisoner inside your lover, aching hearts calling out to loved one's heart. My hand reaches out for your hand I'm cold but you light the fire in me My lips search for your lips I'm hungry for your touch Dana was listening, absorbing the words. When Freddie talked about unspoken words and surrender, I heard a soft sigh from her. Her response told me she was feeling the same emotions that the lyrics evoked in me. I felt her look up, and I leaned in to kiss her lips softly, as her hand moved to my neck, caressing. As our kiss ended, Freddie came back. And no one ever told me that love would hurt so much Oooh yes it hurts And pain is so close to pleasure And all I can do is surrender to your love Just surrender to your love When the song finished, she said, "I've heard this one before... I think in a movie or something. Who's he?" "Freddie Mercury. The group is Queen. Did you like it?" She nodded. "You're a strange woman, Dana. Most people would say it's a depressing song." "I don't think so. You might say it's a sad song, but I think he's got the right idea. Don't you think?" With that, she looked at me, her blue eyes inquiring. "You're thinking about us?" I asked. "Not in those terms... but I guess it sums up us... in many ways." Giving me a smile, "You like the song, but it reminds you too much of past... and present?" "Kind of..." "I'm not going anywhere, Mitch. I think we're becoming good friends... and will continue to be. All things aside, that's more important." I hugged her tightly to my body, my hand cupping and squeezing her bottom before running along her side to her back. "Come. Let's make our moment," she said softly before sitting up. Getting off my lap, she pulled me to my feet. While she moved towards the bed, she started to undo my shirt buttons. When she had the buttons open, she peeled my shirt off. In the meantime, I was trying to unclasp her skirt at the back, and pull the zipper down. By then, she was standing next to the bed. I pulled the skirt down and let it pool around her feet, and she stepped out. When I fumbled with her shirt, she took over, and I got out of my jeans. We stood facing each other, she clad only in her panties and I with my boxers. I pulled her to my chest, enjoying the feel of her breasts, and her hard nipples before running my hand under the elastic of her panties, cupping her cheeks. Stepping back, I started to kiss and lick her from her neck down to her shoulders and spent a few minutes getting her nipples aching hard. I continued, leaving a wet trail down to her belly, and slowly slid her panties down, inhaling her aroma. I could see she was moist there, and remains of dried semen were around her lips. When I moved in to lick, Dana tried to stop me, "I'm not exactly clean." I didn't mind; I enjoyed eating her and wanted to taste her again. When I gave the first tentative licks, she shuddered. Cupping her cheeks, I pulled her to my face, and she spread her feet to give me better access. I worked on her labia and inner lips, teasing around her clit, and moving up to her belly for soft kisses and licks, then going back to her pussy for more. She pulled me up for a kiss, then she sat on the bed, moving up along its length to position herself on her back, inviting me between her legs. I took off my boxers and knee walked, but she wanted me to straddle her chest. She teased me with her tongue and lips, working on my cock before licking my balls and back to my cock, giving me long and soft sucks. With a final suck, she let me out of her mouth and said, "Make love to me... make love with me." I moved down between her legs and, holding myself over her body with my weight on my arm, I nudged her opening with my cock, testing her wetness. Getting myself lubed with her oils, I tried to enter her. When the head passed the ring at the entrance to her channel, I heard her catch her breath. Looking up, I saw her eyes squeezed shut. I realized she was sore from our last session, so I stopped my movement. She opened her eyes and put her hands on my shoulder telling me to keep going. "Dana, you must be sore. I don't want to..." I started, and then we both intoned "hurt you," starting to laugh at the situation. Seeing that she was distracted and laughing, I entered her all the way with a smooth, gentle stroke. She gasped and her eyes tightened for a moment. I could feel she was trying to relax her ring muscle to ease the burning of my passage. I wasn't planning on stroking. Being inside her like that was good enough and since she wanted this, I knew she would enjoy feeling me in her like that. I was getting to know what she wanted, despite the fact that we've been intimate for a very short time. Pulling her knees up, she locked her feet on my lower back and slowly started to roll her hips, giving me a better angle, urging me to penetrate her as deep as possible. When I was all the way inside her, I stopped, and looked at her. Her blue eyes were soft, and big, shimmering, reminding me the cold blue waters of the sea and my beloved beach. As I gazed in her eyes, I was lost in the tranquility I found there... and gentleness, love, and passion; but most of all, how she gave it so freely and completely, making me ache something fierce, even though I was closer to her than ever--deep inside her warm and slick shelter, connected to her in the most primitive manner, feeling her heartbeat through our connection. She freed one hand and picked up a pillow, placing it next to her side. When I gave her a questioning look, she told me to arrange us in a side-ways, almost missionary position. The pillow was to give me some height and room for her leg that would be under my torso. After she unlocked her legs, we carefully rolled to our sides, and to my surprise I found the position very comfortable. It did change the angle and, if I wanted, I could stroke, but only short strokes. However, I wasn't planning to stroke and irritate her already sore channel. The slick and hot feel of it along my shaft was more than enough. Moving her upper body a bit away from me, she gave me ample space to caress and play with her tits, and bending a bit, I could even lick and suckle her nipples. We spent a lot of time, touching and caressing each other, or kissing, and she used her inner muscles. It was gentle, and dreamy. After a while Dana insisted I start stroking, and I wasn't keen on the idea, but reluctantly I agreed. I gave a couple of experimental short, gentle strokes and observed her carefully. She felt really slick inside her channel, and I didn't see a visible reaction, but I was apprehensive. "It hurts a little, but it's good pain, Mitch. Sort of a slight burning. Itching and burning, and it's not really hurting. Trust me. If it hurts, I'll tell you to stop." "I know women have high thresholds for pain, but I don't like the idea. It may be OK now, but what about later?" "Don't worry about it. Please?" So we kept at it. She would massage me using her inner muscles, then let me stroke for a while, and we would kiss and caress each other. We slowly built up the fires, and after a while both of us were starting to gasp and pant. Our slow movements magnified the sensations, and we were moving into the final stretch. I could see her breasts heaving, and getting harder, and flushed. The color was moving slowly up her chest all the way to her neck. We took short breaks and slowed our activities to prolong the sensation, but after a few times, we couldn't hold ourselves. I started deliberate strokes and was gratified to see her close her eyes, letting out a sigh. At the end of each stroke, she started to let out small whimpers, and then her pussy started to squeeze me. I stroked in and stayed inside, letting her muscles take me over, while latching onto her nipple... and nibbling. Then I was coming, with small bursts. It was slow, and drawn out, like our build up. As we were coming down, we shared a drawn out soul kiss. I wanted to stay inside her, but once the endorphins ran their course I was afraid she would hurt more when I pulled out of her. After a few minutes of enjoying the pleasurable feeling, gave her a questioning look; she nodded, and I pulled out slowly. Then I lifted myself, so she could get her leg trapped under my torso free, and stretch it comfortably. I picked up the sheet and the blanket and pulled them to cover us. We fell into a short but blissful sleep, with Dana snuggled in my arms. An hour later I woke, and went about waking Dana, gently caressing, and kissing her. "How are you feeling, sleepy head?" I asked. She stretched her body, and I could hear the popping and cracking sounds from her joints. "Great." When I gave her a questioning look, she reached down with her hand and did an examination with her fingers. She winced a bit, but I guessed it wasn't bad. "It's a bit sore, but a little bit of cold water, and a day's rest should do the trick." Giving me a brilliant smile, she added, "She hasn't seen so much action for quite awhile, and she was hungry. Now, she can rest and gather her strength," making me laugh. "When do you need to go to the airport?" She reached for her watch on the nightstand, and said, "We have two hours before I have to leave the hotel." I suggested filling up the tub and enjoying a bath. We spent the next hour in the bathtub. My hands were busy with her body, but mostly I kept playing with her soapy breasts. She told me she wanted them well used and sore. When I reminded her she had to put on a bra, she retorted, "If they're too sore for a bra, I won't put one on. But I'll keep my jacket on, so nobody would notice it." After the bathroom fun, we dressed and she spent some time putting on her makeup and uniform. She didn't put on her bra, and her blouse was not thick enough to hide her breasts. But with the jacket on, she could get away with it. She gave me her telephone number, and times I could reach her at home. When she asked about my plans, I explained I didn't have anything definite and gave her a general outline of what I had planned. She mentioned that she had some time off, and we made plans to talk on the phone in the coming days, and make arrangements to get together. She would check her flight schedule, and arrange to take her accrued days off. While she packed her overnight bag, I quickly packed my suitcase, and we went down to the hotel bar to get a cup of coffee before she departed with the shuttle service to the airport. At the bar, we found a quiet corner and enjoyed each other's company. We talked about general things, and discussed possibilities for the coming days. I got the feeling she very much wanted to take a few days off with me, and to say the truth, I wanted the same. I was already starting to miss her when we said goodbye. When the shuttle service arrived, we bid goodbye. It wasn't teary eyed, and I think it had much to do with the fact that we would see each other shortly. When she was kissing me goodbye, I whispered, "Don't walk funny," and got an elbow for my trouble. Then with a laugh, she said, "You're terrible, you know that. It's good that it's out of action, otherwise, I could throw you on the table and have my way with you." "And I'm terrible?" I retorted with a snort. Gathering her in my arms for one final hug, I told her I would call her tonight, then we walked to the shuttle bus, and I waited until the bus left. Collecting my suitcase, I made a phone call to my sis, but she wasn't home. I decided not to call my parents but surprise them. Paying the bill, I left the hotel in a taxi. While on the way to my parent's house, my mind was busy trying to come up with a rough plan for my vacation. I was looking forward to seeing Dana, but at the back of my mind, my old _nemesis_ was still present. I knew I had to deal with that, but I didn't want to spoil the next few days brooding over it. I needed to figure out my feelings about her. Depending on the outcome, the next step would be gathering information about her, her life, figure out what brought the changes in her, and perhaps arrange to meet her. I wasn't sure if I would be able to face her again, after the past few years, the experience in the airport still fresh on my mind. I didn't want to think about the pain and desolation I had felt yesterday. But, I knew I had to find some closure, somehow, and only then, I would be able to do something about my new relation with Dana, instead of leaving us in a limbo... But those things could wait... another time. * * * * * CHAPTER - 9: Home The cab pulled next to the curb, and I stepped out, waiting for the driver to open the trunk. Picking up my suitcase, I paid him, and walked to the apartment complex. My parents had been living in one of the flats for the last ten years. It had been my home for many good years before I finally moved out, and it was still home--of some sort. I had my room here, since I didn't have a place of my own. I had planned to rent a small flat or buy into one of the new condos being built, but my parents pointed out that it would be a waste of money. Well, they had a point. At the rig-site, I had a cabin. When I had to spend a few days in the office, the company had accommodations available for the staff at the compound. On my off-duty time, I was traveling and staying at hotels or pensions in coastal towns. If I had rented or bought a place it wouldn't have been used much, unless I rented it out. Besides defeating the purpose in the first place, that would have brought another set of problems--dealing with tenants, taxes, contracts, etc. Of course, there was another--unspoken--reason. My parents wanted me to be financially independent. They had hopes I would eventually quit that job and place, and move somewhere safer and more civilized. If I had committed myself to paying for one of the condos, I couldn't easily leave my current job. I could afford the mortgage with my current salary. However, if I had to get a job in my hometown or in another big city--even a good paying job--the salary wouldn't be anywhere near half of what I was currently making. What's more, I didn't want the company to shackle me with a golden chain. I had gone to great lengths to ensure the privacy of my financial affairs. Every month, I pulled most of my salary from the bank the company used, and transferred it to an account with a small, independent bank, where a friend of my sister worked. When I had to finance the purchase of my car, he helped out, ensuring that there wouldn't be any contact with the Company; they only asked for official copies of my salary slip and contract. When my sister heard what I did, she figured out my reasoning and accused me of being paranoid, but she had no idea how things worked in some companies; I had seen quite a few examples of arm-twisting and manipulation. I wasn't going to give anybody that kind of leverage over me. Maybe she was right, but I haven't forgotten what Musashi wrote 400 years ago, about how to exploit your opponent's weaknesses in a combat situation. I had taken those lessons to heart and knew they did apply to many modern situations. Climbing the stairs with my suitcase in hand, I tried to compose myself. I felt somewhat light hearted and happy, for the first time, but I didn't want anybody to notice that, and ask unnecessary, uncomfortable questions. I wasn't ready to answer any more awkward questions than I had to. I knew they would be curious why I had to spend the very night I was back in town, away from home. They didn't need to know, and I could get away with a white lie. I didn't like resorting to a lie, so I usually ignored the questions I didn't want to answer. They rarely got insistent, but they still did sometimes, as if I was a 15 year old teen (forgetting the long standing understanding that if I was avoiding a question, then they would do well to steer clear off the subject, unless they were ready to accept a half truth or an unpleasant truth). There had been exceptions to the rule, of course, when we laid our cards on the table, but they had been few and far between. Before I knocked, the door opened, and my sister stood at the entrance, with a smile on her face. "It's Mitch," she shouted over her shoulder, informing my parents, before stepping aside to let me in. I set my suitcase to the side, closed the door behind me, then hugged her. "Hey, Sis. What are you doing here?" "What do you think? I was waiting for you," she replied. When we parted, she gave me a quizzical look, and dropped a bombshell. "Did you change your aftershave?" _Shiiit! Did I have Dana's perfume on me? Oooh, maaan! That's all I need now._ "Nope. It must be the new shampoo," I replied with a straight face. She wasn't convinced, but before she could interrogate me, I steered us towards the living room. Mom was a bit misty eyed, especially when she noticed the white and gray stripe on my temples, but she didn't make any comments. She was happy to have me back, away from that 'God-forsaken place.' Dad was his usual quiet self, exchanging a quick greeting. They looked healthy, although Mom seemed to have more worry lines around the corner of her eyes. I didn't want to think about that, but when I saw my parents I always felt guilty about working in that part of the country against their wishes. "We were expecting you last night, Mitchell," Mom said. "Sorry. It was a last minute thing. I couldn't get away." I noticed Sis was listening in with interest and I was afraid of what she might say. She usually kept her quips private; I guess it was something we both learned as young siblings, _them_ and _us_--the parents and the children. But on rare occasions, she would say something just to see me sweat. She was careful though, knowing a payback could be coming. "Yeah. Mom said that you ran into an old friend... at the airport," my sister got into the conversation. Although she didn't ask, the question was there, and she expected an answer. I shot a warning look at her, but she was enjoying herself. Her female radar had recorded an unidentified object, and she was curious to find out what it was she had stumbled upon. When I didn't answer, she came back. "So, whom did you see?" "Katherine Tanner!" Mom warned her. _Thanks, Mom!_ "It's all right, Ma. She's being Kathy--as usual. If she didn't, I would be asking 'who's this stranger'," I retorted with a smile, trying to get my sister off the hook with Mom, while paying her back. Kathy was properly admonished, but she wasn't going to give it up so easily. "Well, Bro, you better treat this strange girl nicely, or you may be sleeping on the street tonight." "Katherine! You behave yourself this instant," Mom said, then turning on me, she warned me, too, "And you too. I will not have you two bickering like children." Then, with a more gentle tone, she added, "Mitch, we're having your room and your father's den painted, so most of your stuff has been moved to your sister's place. It was her suggestion." She gave Kathy a pointed look. "But, if she's changed her mind, we can make other arrangements." At that, my sister shook her head. "No. I miss him. I want him to stay at my place. I was just teasing." "Teasing him? You call being impolite and nosy... teasing?" Mom asked her, the amused expression taking the sting out of her words. "Sorry, Mitch. I didn't mean anything," my sister said with a soft voice. Taking a step, I gathered her in my arms. "I know, Kathy. I missed you, too." She relaxed in my embrace, then whispered, "I like your new shampoo." She was incorrigible, but that was Kathy. It was going to be an interesting couple of days with her. I wondered whether I would survive the experience. As I was contemplating the coming days, my stomach growled, making my sister laugh. "You didn't eat anything?" she asked. "I had a big breakfast." Extracting herself from my embrace, she headed for the kitchen. "I'll whip up something for you." "Mitch, you better go and help her out. Otherwise, you might die of food poisoning or something," Mom said loudly, making sure Kathy heard her. "Maaaa!" Kathy exclaimed. "I'm a good cook. And if I weren't, it would be your fault. You taught me how," she retorted. "I know, dear. I was just teasing," Mom replied, giving her a devilish smile. "Teasing? Tarnishing my reputation is teasing?" my sister responded, trying to get back at Mom. Before the two women could get into a protracted give and take, Dad interrupted them. "Mitch, son. You better get to the kitchen. Don't wait on these two cats." _You're a brave man, Dad! Do you know what you're getting yourself into? If they turn on you, you're dead meat!_ "Your dad is right, Mitch. You better get yourself something in the kitchen. And you, young lady, if you want to be over my knee, I'll make the time. Just ask," Mom said with a grin. Heh! That was a threat Kathy and I could both call. She never hit us throughout our childhood, but then, we never gave her cause to make true on her threats either. "Well, Sis. What's it gonna be? Kitchen or..." She shrugged with a wry grin, and headed for the kitchen, with me following behind her. I wasn't very hungry, despite the growling in my stomach, so we got busy making a salad and an omelet, while chatting. When she finished preparing the salad, she set a plate on the small kitchen table. I didn't take too long to clean up my plate, while Sis watched me wolf down the food, rushing through lunch--a nasty habit I picked up at the college due to the short lunch breaks between classes, and later, continued at the rig. When I finished eating, Mom came in. Sis collected the dirty dishes, and placed them in the dishwasher, and we sat around the table. Mom was in a good mood and I guess she was happy to see both of us in the house, but I noticed she was perturbed about something. When I looked askance, she shook her head as if to say 'nothing,' but I knew she had something in her mind. "Come on, Mom. What's on your mind?" "You look tired, Mitchell. You're too young to have white in your hair. It's not in the family. That place is slowly killing you. When are you going to come back home, or move to someplace else?" _Ma, when are you going to stop asking the same questions? I don't have the answers. When I have them, you'll be the first to know._ I looked at Kathy to see if she would come to my aid, but either she was told not to or she didn't want to get pulled into this one, so she averted her eyes. "Don't look at her, Mitchell. She's as worried as we are. You think she doesn't think about you every time she watches the news at night?" "Please. I'm not going to get drawn into a discussion. It's a closed issue. Don't believe everything you see on TV or read in the newspapers. It's not that bad at all. Do you really believe I would stay there if it was as dangerous as you think? Give me some credit, will you?" I said, trying hard not to be argumentative. "I don't know what to believe! But I know what I see. That place is wearing you down." "Sometimes it gets too busy, and I don't get enough sleep. I haven't had much sleep in the last two days, and last night I had a few drinks. That's why I look like the way I do. You've seen Kathy in the same condition, when she pulls a 36-40 hour shift in the emergency ward. She does that more regularly than I do. So, what's the difference? I tell you. There's no difference. None at all," I retorted with a tired sigh. "I get a day off after those long shifts, and I don't spend my time out in the open, like you do. Two months ago, they reported 53 C in the shade and regularly upper 40s for the region. Last year, you had -20 C for several days in December. You spend most of your time outside, exposed to the elements. Your hours are irregular," Kathy said. _You too, Sis? What is this? I just arrived and I'm already being grilled. This discussion was settled almost a year ago. I'm not going to rehash it!_ "That's why I get several weeks of off-duty time. To recuperate. Like all other people who work on the rig. Most of them spend more time out in the open than I do. They have been working in different countries, in different climates for years. I didn't see anybody dying from hard work," I replied, with a low, controlled tone. This was trying my patience, especially because it had been a long time since we had a similar discussion. When I took a moment to reflect on it, I realized there was one notable difference between this and previous ones--I wasn't angry or even irritated. I was ticked off, a bit, and my patience was slowly running out, but I didn't feel any anger or even resentment at being pulled into the same subject, taking it in stride. _What has changed? Was it Dana?_ My mind was busy with that question and I almost missed the signal between Kathy and Mom. Mom was going to say something, but I saw Sis shake her head 'don't.' Kathy was watching me carefully, and I felt like I was under an electron microscope. _Does she suspect something?_ I learned early on to never underestimate her. _I hope the next couple of days aren't going to be a trial._ Sometimes, Kathy didn't know when to stop, and I wasn't ready to talk. Well, I hadn't talked with Kathy about anything in the last few years. I knew I clammed up pretty hard every time she had tried to probe, and on a few occasions I had to remind her to mind her own business. I knew it wasn't a nice thing to say to my sister, but siblings or not, I didn't appreciate any intrusion to my personal life and what I considered my private affairs. I had been somewhat distant, not only because of what happened in the past, but for other reasons as well. Kathy and my parents thought my decision was based solely on getting over my wounds, and, I believe, they didn't realize I didn't want them to see me struggle every day. I was still struggling, but it had gotten better--except yesterday! I also needed the space; my personal, private space, without intrusions. I wouldn't have that while trying to work a regular job, with regular hours, and regular people who had certain expectations (especially social expectations). I would have drawn unnecessary attention, and I knew I didn't need. It was bound to get me a bad reputation, if not into trouble with people. I didn't want the people who knew me (including my family) to witness what I was going through. 'Far from the eyes, far from the heart.' That might not always apply to family--my family--but it did to a certain degree. I had moved into a protective shell, and letting them witness my daily struggles would just add to the feelings of guilt. It would have been impossible to maintain an appearance of normalcy in an office. And, since I didn't fit into a regular world, I had my doubts about holding a regular job for more than a few months. That would have been another blow, another worry for them. They were used to seeing me succeed, and seeing me switch or lose jobs, or being a misfit, would have torn them worse than their current worries. _It's not that they wouldn't understand my reasons. I'm pretty sure they would have. I know they would still love me if I had failed, but it would have destroyed me for sure. I know what I am. I'm too proud and stubborn. I wouldn't, couldn't settle for failure. If I had stayed and found a job here, I was destined to fail. I'm sure of it. I didn't fit in then, and I still don't. That day may come. Perhaps, sooner than I expect, but it's too early to talk about it and get their hopes up._ Changing the subject, Mom asked about my plans for my vacation, but before I could get a word in, Kathy cut in. "You're taking me out to dinner tonight, Bro. Some place nice." "Sure. Wherever you want," I replied, my attention still on Mom. "Close your mouth, dear," Mom said to Kathy, who was staring at me with a gaping mouth. She sputtered, then asked, "You... You're not going to argue?" "Kathy, I always enjoyed taking you out. I only argued when our schedules didn't match, or you had those annoying friends of yours tagging along. You know I don't care for some of them, and yet, you insist." "Why? All of the girls are nice, and the guys behave themselves," she replied, with a defensive tone. _Shit. I don't want to get into this in front of Mom. Why don't you zip it up?_ "Some of those girls are too _nice_," I replied, pointedly. Sensing trouble brewing, Mom interrupted us. "Mitchell, that's not a nice thing to say about anybody, let alone those girls." "They are shopping for a boyfriend, and worse, yet, some of them are shopping for a husband. I'm not shopping for a girlfriend or a wife. I have no interest in them, and they don't take a hint. And, that's all I'm going to _say_, on this subject," I replied with deliberation, my tone making it clear I would not tolerate further discussion. "Moving on to your question," I said, swiftly changing the subject. "I don't have any specific plans. I need to get the car to the garage for a check-up. Then I'll head for the coast. There are some towns I want to visit. I really liked one place last time, so I might spend most of my time there, exploring." Kathy broke in with another question. "Sarah is having a party on Saturday. You'll come, won't you?" _You're insistent, Sis. Never give up trying. I'll give you that, but neither do I. You should know that._ Sarah was her best friend, and a girl I had known since we were kids. She was a very nice girl, not one of the sharks who made my hair stand on end when I had to socialize. It'd been several years since I had seen her, and what I remembered was a girl with whitish blonde hair, gray eyes, and a slightly chubby body. But, she had the voice of an angel and played the guitar like a virtuoso. In junior high, she and my sister had started taking guitar lessons, and Sarah turned out to be exceptionally gifted. Not only was she good at playing the guitar, but she had a voice. _Man, did she sing! Angels must have been listening to her crystal clear voice in the heavens, every time she sang._ Many times, I had found myself taking a break from my studies just to listen to their practice sessions next door in my sister's room, relaxing to her voice. _Fond memories, indeed._ "Sarah... How's she doing?" "She works in Orthopedics at the other hospital, but we get together whenever we can. She still plays the guitar and sings. I hope you haven't forgotten that." "No way I could forget that voice. I always thought she would quit school and turn professional, being a singer. I remember her having problems in med school." "She did. Repeated a year. She wanted to go professional, but her parents and I talked some sense into her." "She didn't resent it?" "No. She's happy she continued with her studies. She still has time for music, and she could still try singing professionally, if she wanted to. But I guess, she didn't want it that badly. When did you see her last?" she asked. "Ummm... I don't know... five, six years ago... Why?" Instead of answering me, she gave me a smile filled with mischief, making me uneasy. "What exactly are you cooking up, Sis?" I asked, apprehensive about what she might be planning to spring on me. She always managed to find a way to catch me unprepared. Although her surprises had been pleasant enough--more often than I cared to admit--there had also been many occasions when they had annoyed the hell out of me. "Ohh... nothing, really," she replied casually. It was too casual for my liking, and seeing I was getting antsy, she hastily said, "Don't get your knickers in a tw--" "For your information, I don't wear ladies underwear!" I cut her off. "OK! Don't get your pants in a twist! It's really nothing. She's just... changed..." she replied with a teasing smile. "Changed?" I repeated her words with a smirk. I found it hard not to suspect her motives, after her casual remark. "You'll see when we go," she responded cryptically. _Hell, no! I'm not going to be suckered into anything. I know you Sis. I know how devious your mind can be..._ Giving her a teasing smile, I said, "Well, that could be difficult... I'm not sure if I can make the party." Her face fell at that, because she knew that she couldn't cajole me in any way to go to a party, even if it was Sarah's; not after what I had said about the other girls, and knowing that there bound to be a few of them attending the same party. "You know, you can be a real spoil sport, Bro. But I'm being polite. I won't say that you're being a sourpuss." Mom caught her breath at that quip, but instead of admonishing her, she took her side. "She's right, Mitchell. You are being a rat about the whole thing." "I didn't say I wouldn't go. I said, I might not make it," I retorted. I wanted to know what she was planning. I didn't like being caught unprepared or suckered into something I would dislike. Kathy immediately recognized the opportunity, but was reluctant to come out with whatever she had up her sleeve. In the end, she gave up the pretense, and said, "Sarah turned into a babe, Mitchell. You would hardly recognize her." "Sarah? A babe?" She had always been a good looking girl, but nothing special. The girl-next-door kind of good looking, except her voice. She had been a bit pudgy at the time, so I had difficulty imagining her as a babe. Mom said, "Sarah is not really a babe." That made more sense, so I looked askance at my sis, wondering what she was up to, when Mom added, "She's a blonde bombshell." _Sheeesshh! What the hell's going on? Babe! Blonde bombshell! Sarah is turned into a blonde bombshell. You're joking, right?_ When I looked at Mom, she was grinning from ear to ear, smug with the knowledge that she had managed to shake me up. Seeing I wasn't convinced, she nodded, confirming my suspicions. _Uhh... OK! I'll take your word for it. So... what's going on? What are you two up--_ _Ooh, no! No way! You two aren't playing matchmaker, are you?_ "I don't think I like what I think you two are cooking up," I said. "We aren't cooking up anything, Mitch. You need to get out, and this is as good an occasion for it as any," Kathy said, with Mom nodding her agreement. "Just hold it there! If you haven't heard it yet, or didn't realize it up to now, let me put it clearly. I'm not interested in going out with any one," I said softly, but making it clear I wasn't going to allow any interference with my personal life. "Mitch, come on. It's just a party. Sarah likes you, and no, not like that; she has a boyfriend. You've known each other since we were kids. You like her. She even promised to sing, and keep the _girls_ away from you. It will be fun, and you'll enjoy it. I don't have an escort, and I don't want to go there alone. There are no hidden agendas, OK?" "I find that hard to believe, Sis. No offense intended, but I know how your mind works," I replied, still not convinced. "You make your own decisions. Nobody will force you to date Sarah, or any other girl. Everybody knows you always do what you want, and I know it would be pointless to suggest anything. So, what are you afraid of? What's your problem? Don't tell me you're scared of seeing Sarah?" Kathy asked, successfully cornering me with her logic. _You're some piece of work, Sis. I'm glad you didn't get to be a lawyer, and I pity the guy that marries you._ I gave her an appraising look, trying to see what else she would be springing on me, but she returned my gaze with the same appraising look. She had a self satisfied smile on her lips, and I didn't think it was related to winning the argument. No, this was something else, and that made me wonder. I went through the short exchange trying to see what else was hidden that would make her react like that. I got the feeling she had engineered the whole discussion. The party at Sarah's place, the whole thing about how Sarah had changed were interesting revelations and caught me by surprise, but why would Kathy open up the subject to raise my suspicions, almost inviting a confrontation? She didn't invite a confrontation, she directed us right into the confrontation about my personal life and affairs, knowing full well how I would react, and then, successfully cornered me with her logic. What would she gain by irritating me, except the possibility that I would refuse to go to a party she wanted to go to? I took out my pack and lit a cigarette, while paying attention to her as surreptitiously as I could. She knew what I was doing, and wasn't bothered. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself, and didn't hide it. _Damn, Kathy! You pulled one over me, and feel real smug about it, don't you?_ When I looked at her I could see her eyes were laughing at me. I gave her a small smile, with a warning look that hinted at a payback she wouldn't like, but she nonchalantly shrugged it off. She knew I wouldn't be a real bad ass about it; it was an empty threat. We used to parry like that a lot when we were kids, enjoying the battle of wits. _Well, let's see how good you're at strategy, Kathy._ "Saturday... what time is the party?" I asked, as if I had given up, and feigning interest. "So, you're going?" she asked suddenly enthusiastic, without realizing that she had just walked into my hand. I didn't answer, but kept smiling, and she realized her mistake. Once her smug smile faded, I said, "I didn't say that, yet, did I? I need to know the time, to see if I could make it." "_What_!!! You have a _prior_ engagement?" she retorted snootily. "Let's say, I have plans, and I need to know if I have to shuffle my schedule." "You're being a _rat_, Mitch, and you know it," she replied indignantly. Just then, Mom stood up, and smiling at both of us, she said, "You two take it easy! Don't break anything. I'm not going to clean up your mess." Mom used to say that when we were younger and involved in battles like this. Finally, we were alone in the kitchen, and I wondered who would surrender first. I knew Kathy would stick to her guns, as I would. I was planning to take her to the party, but I was curious about why she had engineered the previous exchange. I decided to lay my cards on the table and see where it would take me. "Kathy, I'll take you to the party." "And?" "And? What do you mean, 'and'?" I asked. "You have something up your sleeve, Bro. Out with it," she responded hotly, with a suspicious tone. "I don't have anything up my sleeve. And if I did, why should I tell you?" She mulled something in her mind, then asked, "What's on your mind, Mitch?" "How about a little bit of _quid pro quo_?" I replied. "On what?" she asked. "OK, Sis. Here's the deal. I won't pay you back for the stunt you just pulled. In fact, I won't pay you back for any of the stunts you pulled today, starting with your quip about who I saw in the airport, and including all the singing and dancing about Sarah. I'm just curious about what you were really trying to accomplish with that little confrontation a few minutes ago." Then, thinking over the whole quid pro quo thing, I decided to be even more generous. This was Kathy, after all, and the issue was minor, so I said, "I've changed my mind. For what it's worth, I'm not even going to hold you up to the _quid pro quo_. Rest easy, I'm not going to pay you back for anything , whether you explain what you were up to or not." She got up from her chair, and stood by my side, then leaning, she hugged me, whispering, "I love you, Mitch. I missed you." "I missed you too, Sis. But, sometimes you drive me crazy," I retorted. "That's what sisters are for," she came back with a laugh. "I guess. I should have asked Mom and Dad for a brother instead of a sister." That quip earned me an elbow, making me grunt. She could get heavy handed at times, and this was one of them. "Jeez, Sis. Take it easy. No wonder the guys are scared of you." _Oh, shit! Now she'll rip my head off._ Luckily, she let that pass, and returned to her chair. "So you're curious about what happened?" I shrugged my shoulders. "As I said... I won't die if you want to keep it to yourself." "Well, I have one word for you." She paused, waiting to see if she would draw a reaction from me. When I didn't respond, she continued. "Shampoo. Your new shampoo," she said, as if that explained all. "My shampoo? What about my shampoo?" I asked, feigning puzzlement. I knew what she was getting at, but I wasn't going to confirm her suspicions. "Come on, Mitch. I know what I smelled." "Oh, really! Say, if I was sitting in a taxi for half an hour, which smelled like the prior occupant had broken a bottle of powerful perfume, you would assume I had been with a woman? Or because I didn't want to talk about the person I met in the airport--by the way, you don't know many of my high school friends--that person automatically becomes a _she_ with whom I'm having a secret affair? Interesting deductive technique, Sis. Warped, but interesting," I retorted with a smug smile. That gave her a pause, but it was short lived. "So, why did you say it was your shampoo, instead of explaining about the smelly taxi? I don't buy it, Bro." "Believe what you will. You think I picked up somebody at the airport? Hmmm... I must be getting my old charm back in a hurry. Good, I can use some of that old charm at the party." She knew I didn't have girl friends, especially in the last couple of years. She suspected I had a few short-lived flings and considering the fact that I wasn't a monk, she expected them, but she also knew they had been too infrequent for a guy my age. Even before all that, I wasn't much of a success with girls, so my last delivery gave her food for thought, so much so that her face fell. She remembered why I was away from home. I felt guilty making her feel bad, but more so because I had lied. Well, not exactly lied, but I had misrepresented partial truths, letting her draw her own conclusions. Of course I had met an old friend, and one that she knew--my nemesis--although we haven't gone to the same school, so that was definitely a misrepresentation. And, I didn't pick up Dana, she picked me up, so that wasn't much of a misrepresentation. I didn't know how I could justify my actions, even though she had no business nosing around my private affairs, but... She was my sister. _Where do I draw the line? If I told her to mind her own business, I would be continuously fending off her probing. She would eventually succeed, unless I took stern measures, but then, that would mean hurting her feelings. She loves me, and she just doesn't take 'no' as an answer._ _I'm not going to hurt you, Kathy. I hurt enough people. Yesterday, 'her,' then this morning, Dana, and now..._ "Sis? It's OK!" I said softly. She shook her head. "Kathy!" I raised my voice trying to shake her up, and succeeding in getting her attention, I said, "I need your promise on something." "What?" "I need you to promise me something." "What do I have to promise, Mitch?" she asked, curious and apprehensive at the same time. "Nothing big or bad. I just want you to promise not to ask questions about what I'm going to tell you." "You're scaring me, Mitch. I can't make a promise like that." "Come on, Kathy. You don't trust me? It's nothing big or serious, but I don't want you bothering me with a lot of questions. You have to settle for what I'm going to tell you. Nothing more, nothing less." She might have been unsettled, but her mind was still sharp, so she went for the jugular. "This is about yesterday, and your friend, isn't it?" "Yes, it is. Now, do I have your promise?" "No, you don't. Eventually, you'll give it up," she retorted. _Jeez, Kathy. Grow up, will you? I'm not going to put up with that._ "I think, I better stay here or get a room in a hotel," I replied. "What are you hiding, Mitchell? You wouldn't go to such lengths, if it wasn't someth-- Oh, my God! You rat bastard! I was right. You lied to me, you little shit! And I was sitting here feeling sorry about you. How could you? I'm your sister!" "Then, please, act like one, Kathy. And grow up, will you? I told you countless times not to nose into my affairs. Do I bother you about your boyfriends, or nose into your private affairs? No, I don't. When are you going to learn there are some boundaries, Sis?" I said softly, trying to reason with her, instead of using an admonishing tone. I was surprised at myself, and how calmly I delivered those words. If this had been happening a year or two ago, my tone would have been colored by irritation, if not filled with resentment. Kathy didn't respond immediately, but kept her gaze on me scrutinizing me carefully. After several minutes, she said, "I know I deserve some of the things you said, but I don't think I deserved that line about staying here or in a hotel. I am your sister, Mitchell. Do you really feel like that? You're never around, and you've grown distant over the last several years. Do I deserve that? Do Mom and Dad deserve that?" "Katherine, don't try the guilt trip on me," I replied, reverting to a formal tone, despite my best intentions. Collecting myself, I tried again, this time with a gentler tone. "We are not kids anymore. I have my own life, and you have yours. That's a fact of life. Just because I'm away doesn't mean I love you less. You left home before I did. I wasn't the one who went to boarding school at fifteen. You were the one who came home only during the weekends, holidays and vacation periods. You were the one who came back changed at an early age. Did I love you less for it, because you were away? Did I make an issue of it?" I took a deep breath, and added, "I didn't even leave home for college, Kathy, because the local college had the best engineering branch in the whole country. You think I've changed in the last few years? I changed when I was a sophomore, and had to do my first industry training at the rig. I tasted freedom for a mere six weeks, but it was enough, I enjoyed it. I didn't particularly like the desert, but I was looking forward to going there again, after graduation. After my junior year, after the second industry practice, I was sure of it. What happened during the later part of that summer, had very little to do with my decision. Well, to a certain extent. I'm not going to get into the details. The point is I was going to go away from home." "I'm not talking about your decision. I'm talking about how you grew distant," Kathy said. "Come on, Kathy. You weren't the same when you came back from boarding school. We were suddenly distant. That's what happens. You had your peers, I had mine. Does that mean I loved you less, or you loved me less?" She got thoughtful at that. "Yes, we were distant... to a certain degree... but..." "But what, Kathy?" "But I never shut anybody out of my life. You shunned everybody. Mom, Dad, me, your friends. You don't talk. "Oh, come on. You're exaggerating the whole thing." "Mitchell, that's enough bullshit. Are you blind... or in denial? You and Mom used to sit up late at night, talking till the wee hours of the morning. How do I know? Because, Mom told me. You used to laugh... a lot... when watching something on TV. You used to tell jokes. Now, not anymore. You never socialized much, but used to spend some time with friends. Now, you just take vacations by yourself. Tell me if I'm wrong." "What do you want me to say, Kathy?" "I want you to--" "I'm not going to talk about it. Let's get that straight and out of the way. I don't feel like talking about some things. There is no way in hell anybody or anything that can or that will make me talk about things I don't want to discuss. Is that clear?" When she didn't reply, I forced myself to relax, before I repeated my question. "Is that clear?" She didn't reply, but was watching me carefully. Finally, breaking the silence, she said, "Tell me something, Mitch. Are you using your training, now?" That non sequitur threw me for a loop. "What?" "Are you using your training? You know, the stuff that you used to practice? Something like meditation... the sinking into... I don't know what you used to call... the depth or something... the thing you explained you were using when practicing with your swords?" "The Void?" "Yeah, the void. Are you using that, now?" "No. Why should I? I haven't used it for a long time, and my swords are here. I haven't touched them since... well... for quite some time." "You don't practice anymore?" she blurted. It was obvious, she hadn't expected my answer. "I practice Tai Chi. I haven't practiced anything else for quite some time. Why?" "Nothing. I didn't expect you to quit your practice. On the previous subject, yes, we are clear," she said. "But that doesn't mean you're scot-free. I haven't made any promises." "If that's the way it's going to be," I said with a shrug I didn't feel. "You're still staying at my place, Bro." "Now, you're dictating terms to me?" I asked, more amused than irritated. If this had happened a year or more ago... She didn't answer, but kept watching me, searching my face, and I could see her mind was busy with something. Then with a chuckle, she said, "My, my, my... Whoever she is, I want to meet her... one day." Her comment took me by surprise, making me realize how ill- equipped I had been to deal with Kathy. "What are you talking about?" I asked, putting all my acting abilities to put the right tone of puzzlement in my voice. "You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about, or rather, _whom_ I'm talking about. She must be something... How long have you known her?" she asked, going straight for the kill. "Kathy, I told you a minute ago. You have to know when to leave the table, while you're still ahead. So, back off. You know I don't like to repeat myself." I wasn't pissed at all, and I should have been. Somehow I found myself rather enjoying her efforts, and fending off her attention. It reminded me of earlier years, when we were kids. I missed her sharp mind. But, still, I wasn't ready to talk about my private affairs. At least I was enjoying this sibling battle, instead of resenting her. She was, after all, being Kathy. "For the time being, Mitch... for the time being... I can wait. For what it's worth, she's good for you. I can see that. You may not have realized it, but I haven't seen you so calm for a long time, even when I was getting on your nerves. You have to decide where you want to stay. Don't worry, I'll give you your space and won't bother you anymore," she said. Then with a wicked grin, she added, "Not any more than I have to, that is. I'd rather have you at my place, but it's up to you." _Do I want to stay at your place? Tough question. I don't want to be put through the grinder again, Kathy. I love you, but you try my patience. I hope I won't hurt your feelings, if you keep it up too long._ I knew she wanted me at her place, and I missed her as much as she missed me. In the end, it wasn't hard to decide. She still had to go to school and work, so even if she wanted to grill me she wouldn't have much time to do it, and I doubted she would attempt something like this anytime soon. What's more, I wanted to make her happy. "Sure, Sis. I'll stay at your place. No problems." "Thank you, Mitch." "You're welcome," I replied with a patronizing tone, but she knew I was teasing her, so she didn't rise to the bait. "So, what's the plan, Bro? What do you want to do?" "I'd like to take a short nap. I'm pretty tired from the last few days. Then we'll see how it goes. Are you working tomorrow?" "Nope, I'm off duty until Monday. A few of the girls owed me time, so we switched and shuffled the shifts." _Isn't that just great!!!_ I quickly chased that thought away. She had gone to great lengths to be with me and here I was acting unappreciative. "Tomorrow I need to go to the garage, and that would probably take several hours, perhaps half a day. I'm afraid, you'd be wasting your off duty time." "Can't you just leave the car, and then pick it up when it's ready?" "I want to be there when they go over it. I want to make sure they do it properly." "Sometimes you go overboard, Mitch. Don't you ever trust people?" "Let me tell you something, Sis. If I had to let our rig mechanic check my car, I could easily trust him, because I know him and how thorough he is. I don't know the guys in the garage. I can't assume they'll do a good job. Say, one of the guys didn't check the brake pads and replace the worn out ones, and I had to brake hard, what do you think would happen? Working on the rig-site I have learned never to assume anything. We even have a good saying about that particular habit: 'Assumptions are the mother of all fuck ups'." "You're such a control freak." "Just because I'm being cautious? Whatever you say, Sis." She shrugged it off, and said, "We'd better get moving then." "What about Mom and Dad?" "We'll be having dinner here, tomorrow night, and I think Mom would appreciate if you could get here early in the afternoon." I nodded my agreement. We said our goodbyes to Mom--Dad was asleep--and left for Kathy's place, in her car. * * * * * CHAPTER - 10: Siblings Kathy had a nice, small, two-bedroom flat, not too far from where my parents lived. Although the place was small, especially the living room, which included a modern kitchen in one corner, she managed to make it look bigger that it was. I hadn't seen it for quite some time, and the few occasions I dropped by were just to take her out to some place. I had a late brunch or lunch with her a few times, but I hadn't paid much attention to her place, and what she had done with it. Now, because I was going to spend some time here, I was curious how it looked like, and what changes she had made. I still remembered the time when my parents and I had to help her to make the move, two years ago. Mom and Kathy had spent several days during a short break Kathy had from her studies, visiting second hand stores for some good quality furniture, and making the arrangements for delivery, while Dad and I had spent a few days, going through the flat, fixing things like electrical wiring and fittings, window insulation, and any other simple things we could fix. We also had compiled a list of items that would require an electrician, a carpenter and a plumber to fix, and then waited on the guys while they did their job. To tell the truth I wasn't much of a handy man, never had been one, but I had learned some things on the rig, especially about electrical safety and some plumbing, so when I saw what the electrician was doing--the one we called from a nearby shop in the neighborhood--I got into an argument with him. I had a copy of the building code in my hand and saw him using the wrong rated cable to replace the existing but damaged wiring. When Dad realized what was happening, he ran him off. Quite many of the electricians, plumbers and carpenters learned their craft as apprentices, but the whole apprenticeship was very flawed--the education system wasn't much of a help also, without proper control mechanisms in place--and, with many of the the guys lacking some necessary education in science and math, and worse, lacking an interest in their craft, it was always a very difficult proposition to find a good, and reliable electrician or a plumber. That is not to say there weren't qualified people, like high school or college graduates, but the ones that actually did the work were only skilled for manual work, and the college graduates were more of the engineer type who weren't inclined to get their hands dirty doing the menial work, but supervise the ones that did the menial work. But, there were many small shops that were sort of a jack-of-all-tades kind, and did a lot of repairs, fixes from electricity to plumbing to carpentry, and the quality varied a lot. The worst part of the whole deal was, of course, the quick-and-dirty fixes they came up with during a job. For example, they would use a size smaller cable not rated for the job, if they ran out of the required cable when they were doing the wiring, not giving a second thought to the possibility of an electrical fire hazard. If I hadn't seen how things were done by our electrician at the rig site, and learned things from him, I wouldn't be aware of such problems. Not only that, but in the first place, he should have known his stuff and done it properly--as naïve as that sounds--but such was the situation, and if you didn't take precautions and had no idea what they were doing, you could easily get screwed, major time! So, in the end, I went through the _Yellow Pages_, looking for a good electrician, instead of the local quick-fix type of shops in the neighborhood. I found a couple, but when I heard their prices, Dad and I knew we had to do some work ourselves. Dad managed to convince one of them to send a guy in to check the situation and make us a list of what is needed, and then we would try to do parts we could, and give the rest of the work to them. It worked perfectly, and I remember how proud Dad was, when the electrician came to do their part, and inspecting my work, gave a more than a passing note. I guess, it was because Dad was worse than me as a handy man. He could do some carpentry(!)--read, could nail two wooden planks--and fix some simple plumbing problems, and that was the extent of his abilities. Well, that was to be expected, as he was a white-collar; having been a desk jockey most of his life. I was supposed to be a white-collar, too, but ended up being something of a white- and blue-collar. After all the work was done, we helped the women folk to clean the house. Then, while they got busy buying and fixing curtains and other necessary stuff, Dad and I did the painting, something which we both were very accustomed to, after moving from one rental place to another several times over the years. And since Mom and Kathy weren't around, we could get it done without any interference from them. I guess we both had fun, and surely, without the distraction of comments like: "Be careful. You're dripping paint there!" or "This part requires another coat!" and similar, we finished the job in record time. Afterwards, we had to clean up a few spots, but there weren't many spills or paint drops. I remember Dad and I sharing a look and bursting into laughter; we both were thinking whether the presence of the women during the previous times was what jinxed the painting jobs. Finally, the day arrived for the move, and we packed Kathy's stuff, and got it moved to her flat, and during the day, the other deliveries, such as the furniture from various stores arrived. Dad and I made several trips back and forth to get some of the delicate stuff like TV, stereo, and glassware, not trusting a moving company to be careful with the stuff. It wasn't a long distance, and required only a few trips from my parents' place to Kathy's flat. In a few hours we finished the whole move. By evening time, Dad and I finished assembling the bookshelves, the bed, the wardrobe, while the women got the kitchen in order, unpacking the glassware and other stuff. Just before dinner time, we had the living room also sorted out, the furniture placed as required, and then Dad and I went out to get two big pizzas and a bottle of red wine to celebrate. After dinner , at Mom's urging we didn't hang around but left; she knew Kathy was anxious to have the place to herself for the first time in her life. Next day, I was on the road for my vacation. When I returned, I saw Kathy before taking my flight, and she told me about her first night in her flat; she had been up all night long, sitting in the living room, reading and listening to music, finally going to bed around four in the morning, tired, but happy. I could sympathize with the feeling. I looked around to see if she made any changes, but it looked the same. There were few additions; a couple of small low tables next to the couches, and a sturdy low table for the TV and the stereo which used to sit on the floor, a sit-sack, and some new pictures on the walls. I remember the time Kathy and I shopped for some pictures and posters, and framing them at home before hanging them on the walls. _The Scripps Pier_ by Ansel Adams--my choice which Kathy loved--and a few more reproductions of his scenic photos occupied the main wall behind the big couch. By the side of the window were small sized pictures, mostly the works of Kim Anderson, which I thought were really girly-girl kind of pictures, especially Kathy's favorite, _The First Kiss_, but I knew why she had chosen it. Dad had taken a picture of us when we were about three or four years old, that depicted us in a similar pose--I didn't have a rose in my hand, but I was kissing Kathy on the cheek. Her new additions to the collection were a bunch of medium size pictures of smoke filled rooms and Jazz Musicians, occupying an empty spot on the wall, above the stereo. I wasn't sure if she had chosen them for the mood the pictures depicted, rather than an actual interest in Jazz music, but Kathy was always full of surprises--and I wasn't stupid enough to bet either way! I took my suitcase to the spare bedroom. I recognized her old bed. It used to be in her bedroom, but it looked like she had changed the bed in the master bedroom, and put her old bed here. Above the bed, on the wall, was a picture that I knew very well; one of the female nude works of Mick Payton. I had sneaked it in without Kathy's knowledge when we were shopping for pictures, and later hung it in her bedroom, earning myself a quip: "Hey! I'd rather have a picture of some hunk in my bedroom. Something that shows tight buns, and not tits!" I turned at her, giving a quizzical look about the picture. "Well, if you'd rather prefer, I can hang one of the Kim Anderson pictures," she said flashing me a teasing grin. "No, thank you. That will do _just fine_!" I replied hastily. "I thought it would," she said, before leaving the room. _Paybacks... eventually they catch up, whatever I do to evade them!_ I smiled at the thought, since it was obvious Kathy had on purpose moved the picture from her bedroom to what was, now, temporarily my bedroom. I would have preferred one of the Ansel Adams scenic photos, but... I checked what was brought here from my parents', and went through the wardrobe. It looked like almost all my clothes were brought in, some already in the hangers, and the rest distributed in various shelves. Other items like socks, underwear, etc. were in one of the drawers. As I was checking out shelves, and drawers, I noticed a black duffel bag at the bottom floor of the wardrobe. I took it out and set it on the floor. Opening the zipper, I checked the contents. It had been a long time, but I knew what was in there: my practice katana, wakizashi, a bokken (the wooden sword), a white gi set (the canvas cotton trousers and jacket), a long and narrow carry bag with a shoulder sling for the swords, and a small box with various items related to upkeep of the swords. I took out the bokken and the katana to inspect them. Pulling the katana from its scabbard, I checked the polish. Satisfied with that, I tested the balance and the feel of the sword. It felt heavier than I thought it was, but more than that, it was disconcerting to discover that it felt foreign; it wasn't a natural extension anymore. _Do I want to practice again? I don't know. Maybe I should start practicing with the bokken and see where it would take me._ Carefully sliding the blade into the scabbard, I returned the katana into the duffel bag and picked up the bokken. It was still in good condition. The surface was slick with wood oil and I didn't see any cracks. I was zipping up the duffel bag when I felt Kathy standing at the door. Looking over my shoulder, I saw her scrutinizing me. I was surprised that this duffel bag was here. I expected it to be left at my parents' place. Kathy had never said anything, but I always thought she didn't like some of my training, and wasn't comfortable with the contents of the duffel bag. Another subject I was loath to talk about, especially with Kathy. When I raised an eyebrow, she said, "If you have any dirty laundry in your suitcase, I can put them in the washer." "I don't have much, Sis. I can get it." "Well, if you want to risk wearing pink underwear, then do it yourself." "Come on, Sis. Whites separate, colored separate. I've washed my own stuff before." "Do you iron as well?" she teased. "Don't rub it in, will you?" She wasn't going to let it go. "Do you still cook?" "Nope. We have cooks and other staff that do the cleaning and washing at the rig-site." "Well, since you've been spoiled by all that service, I better get your stuff washed," she retorted with a snort. "Suit yourself. It's not locked," I replied, then took the duffel bag and placed it back in the wardrobe. I put the wooden sword on the dresser. I wanted to take it with me for the vacation, and I didn't want to forget it. Sensing I was being watched, I turned to face Kathy. "Are you going to practice?" she asked. "Nope. I'll take it with me for my vacation." She had an unreadable expression on her face. "Kathy, what is it?" "Nothing," she replied. Before I could say anything, she turned and got busy going through my suitcase, separating the items into neat piles for washing. Over her shoulder, she said, "You'll find a bath towel in the bathroom. Go and take a shower, then get some sleep. I need to do some shopping--back in a few hours." Fifteen minutes later I was in bed. I wasn't sure if I would get much sleep, but a short nap wouldn't do any harm. I still had to catch up with my sleep. * * * * * _The sky was a strange mix of blue and gray, the darker colored clouds in constant shift, mixing and interloping with each other. Standing on the wet sand, I looked at where the horizon should be, but I couldn't distinguish sea from sky. They were both the same indistinct blue-gray. The rain was coming down gently, but in a continuous sheet, made up of fine droplets, blurring the details. The whole scene looked like a delicate painting on rice paper._ _I heard footsteps on wooden planks and turned towards the sound. A girl was walking, headed for the small boat secured to the side of the wharf. Untying the ropes, she threw them in and jumped in the boat. I didn't catch her face, but she looked familiar. I was trying to get a good look and almost started in her direction, when I was stopped by a hand on my arm. I turned around and came face to face with Dana. She released her hold and brushing my cheek with the back of her fingers, pulled me for a gentle kiss. Breaking the kiss, she nodded in the direction of the boat. When I turned back, I saw 'her'--19 years old, her black hair wet and stringy from rain--sitting in the boat; one hand on one of the oars and the other waving me goodbye. She had a happy smile on her face. I wasn't sure if her face was wet from tears or the rain._ _I looked back at Dana and she shooed me away, urging me to go to the boat. When I didn't respond, her expression changed and she mouthed, "Go!"_ _When I turned my attention back to the boat, the girl was already getting ready to row away from the wharf. As I started to walk towards her, she saw me coming and waved goodbye again, then started rowing the boat away. I ran, but she shook her head with a smile on her face. By the time I was at the edge of the wharf, the boat was out of reach. She stopped rowing and motioned me to go back._ _I heard footsteps behind me and a quick glance revealed Dana making her way to me. Her eyes were on the boat and when she was standing next to me, she beckoned to the boat, urging the girl to row back to the wharf. But, the girl just shook her head and gave a small wave, bidding Dana and I goodbye, and picked up the oars again. I felt Dana push me over the side and fell into the water..._ With a lurch I came awake, feeling somebody trying to push me back to bed and something wet on my forehead. "Shssshhh! Mitch. Take it easy. You were having a bad dream," somebody whispered. I was panting and I couldn't get enough oxygen. The air seemed too thin. I tried to breathe normally, but felt like I was suffocating. Something cold soothed my forehead and a cold hand caressed my neck, while a soft voice repeated, "Breathe slowly. Calm down." The cold hand and the wet towel on my forehead helped me to focus my attention, and collect my senses. My breathing eased. Feeling my back arched, muscles tensed, I relaxed and let myself onto the bed. Kathy was leaning over me, concern written all over her face. Trying to ease her worries I tried to smile, but she didn't buy it. "I'm OK, Kathy. Just a bad dream." "Who is the doctor here?" she replied. She lifted the sheet and ran her hand over my chest. "You're wet. You don't have a fever, but you're wet with sweat. That's not good, Mitch." "Maybe I'm coming down with something. It was cold the last two nights on the rig, and I spent most of the time outside," I offered. "Maybe," she replied, but she wasn't convinced. "Do you remember anything of your dream?" "No. I only remember falling and that's when I woke up. I'll be all right, Sis. I just need a shower." Taking the wet towel, she wiped my face and neck, then asked me to sit up. When I did, she asked if I was feeling dizzy, but I was feeling OK. She didn't interrogate me further, which surprised me, but I was grateful for the break. I took a long luxurious shower, while she changed the sheets on the bed. I was troubled by the dream and what it meant. I didn't have episodes like that. I had nightmares, but I didn't remember much of them afterwards, and usually they were a jumble of things that didn't make any sense. Contrary to what I said, I remembered everything that took place in this dream. When I walked into the living room, I found Kathy talking on the phone. Seeing me, she cut her talk short and finished the call. "How are you feeling?" "I'm all right. Sooo... what's the plan?" I said, trying to change the subject. "You still feel like going out? I could fix something here." "Kathy, when I say I'm all right, I mean _all right_. So, tell me.. where do you want to go?" "There's a new place, really a strange mix, though. Owned and operated by a Russian couple, they have Russian and Greek specialties. I think you'll like it. They also have live music, first some Russian folk music with balalaika, and later, Greek music with bouzouki." "That's a strange mix. Why don't they go with one or the other as a theme?" "I don't know. I think the guy is Russian and the girl is Greek, or something," Kathy replied with a chuckle. "Sounds good to me. Who's driving?" "We're taking a cab. I'm going to drink and I know you'd like to have a few. I want both of us to enjoy the night." That was strange. I knew she drank, but not much. Usually she ended up being the designated driver, so she didn't drink most of the time. _Taking a cab means she's going to let her hair down. Is that good or bad? Let's see._ "I can do without the drinks. No need to take a cab. I'll drive." "If you want to, but I think you'll miss the fun and the atmosphere," she replied and headed to her room to change. _Hmmm ... She doesn't look like she's planning anything._ I watched the news on TV for a few minutes, but getting bored with the repetitious crap about a fire in a hotel, I switched to a documentary channel. Kathy came back, dressed in a slinky, black evening dress, and high heels, with a small overcoat in her hand. She had a little bit of make-up and I didn't see any jewelry, which reminded me... "You look good. I better take my jacket," I said and went to my room to pick up the little present for her. When she found out what I had bought her, she loved it and immediately put it on. With the décolletage in the front, the necklace made a striking contrast with the dress and her tanned skin; just as I expected when I bought it. Before we left, I remembered I had to call Dana tonight. "Kathy, are we going to be staying up late?" "No, not really. That's why we're going early. They close the place by midnight, and it's a weeknight. They are open later hours only on Fridays and Saturdays. Why?" "I need to make a call tonight and I don't know if I have to leave a message for them to expect a call or not." "_Them_? You mean _her_, don't you?" she said with a snort. When I didn't react, she said, "I'll be good, Mitch. I'll be reeaaal gooood," making me laugh. "Yeah? Why am I afraid of that?" "Come on. Let's go. We have to be back in time for your call... to _them_!" she retorted, letting out a teasing laugh. * * * * * The restaurant was on the outskirts, in a pretty run-down section of town. From the outside it didn't look like much, but the inside was a surprise. Ambient lighting was low, but not uncomfortably dark. The dark wood finish on the walls gave a sense of being in an old house. Old oil lamps complimented the atmosphere. The chairs were also wood, stylish in an old fashioned manner, but uncomfortable. However, the whole atmosphere was great, and with the live music and great tasting food, that little discomfort was easy to overlook. I'd had Greek food a lot of times, so I went for the Russian specialties, complimented with a small bottle of vodka. Kathy chose Greek specialties and enjoyed a few glasses of Ouzo. I was surprised to see her drink that much, but she didn't show it at all. I've known girls who could drink, but only a few that liked Ouzo. It was, after all, an acquired taste. We tried a few bites from each other's plates. I was curious to see how good their Greek specialties were, compared to the other places I've been, and found out that some of the dishes were as good as I've ever had. Next time I would definitely go Greek. By the time the night was drawing to a close, Kathy was getting a bit giggly--well, more like nicely buzzed and bubbly. I loved to see her like that. But, she was careful and didn't go to excess. She ordered a cup of Greek coffee. I, on the other hand, chose to finish off my vodka with a lemon twist. A few years back, I had had a bad reaction to coffee after imbibing vodka, and I didn't want a repeat. I paid the tab and we left, arriving home before midnight. I didn't have to wait too long for the quip. "While I'm changing into something comfortable, why don't you call... _them_?" she said and headed to her room. After digging out Dana's number from my wallet, I called her. She picked it up after the second ring; must have been expecting my call. We talked about her day. She sounded tired but chipper, telling me she would rearrange her schedule and take a couple of days off. But, that would have to wait until Monday. When I asked if, in the next couple of days, she would be spending a few hours at the airport here, between flights, she was hesitant to answer. "Will you pass through the airport here, or have an overnight stay?" "Ummm. Probably..." "Probably? You don't know your schedule?" "It's... complicated." _Complicated? What's going on, Dana?_ I was a bit disappointed, but more than that, I was scared. Was she having second thoughts? "OK..." "Mitch, it's not what you think," she said in a hurry, hearing the uncertainty in my tone. "It's all right, Dana. I understand," I replied, trying hard to keep the strain from my voice. "It's not about you. It's... Well, she will be back on Saturday, and I'll be flying with her the next couple of days," she replied with a sigh. "I see..." _Damn! This complicates things, but I can't keep on planning my life around HER! This isn't fair to Dana, or to me._ I was getting agitated. I didn't know what to say to Dana. I was tempted to say 'the hell with _her_!' but I didn't want to put Dana in an awkward position. "Dana, I don't know what to say... No, that's not true. I know what I want to say, but I don't want to put pressure on you or put you on the spot. Dammit! This is getting ridiculous!" "Mitch, calm down. Look, this is something we knew was coming. We can't avoid it." "I-I... I can't keep planning my life around her," I blurted. Dana went quiet at that. "Dana, you there?" "Yes, Mitch..." "I'm sorry. I just want to get to know you and... it feels like I won't even get that chance." "Mitch, we both need time. We can't rush into this. Don't you think a few days apart will be good for both of us?" "I... Yeah. I know, but... If you're saying this because of her, I can't accept it. If you're saying it because that's the way you feel..." "Now, you are putting me on the spot, Mitch." That gave me a pause. I didn't want to put pressure on her, but then I remembered my dream and that filled me with a chill. "Mitch?" "Sorry. You're right... A few days apart might do us some good." "Mitch, I miss you... it's not been a day yet, and I miss you. But, we need to be patient, and work this thing out," she said softly. "I miss you too, Dana. I'll wait..." "Good. Now... I can't promise anything, but if I figure out something I'll let you know. Where can I reach you?" "That's going to be a problem. I'm staying with my sis, and... well... it's kinda _complicated_," I finished using her own expression, and laughing at my choice. "What kinda _complicated_?" she asked with an amused tone. "She's being kinda _sisterly_." "She figured out you have a new woman in your life?" she asked with a giggle. "Yeah... something like that. It's not that I'm trying to keep it a secret, but she usually gets overzealous trying to figure out what's happening in my life," I said with a resigned tone. "If she's the kind that I'm guessing she is, she probably cares and is being protective." "I can do without the protection." That earned me a laugh and she came back with, "That bad, huh?" "Try, 'not taking _no_ for an answer' for size and see how it fits," I retorted. "Ohh... she's my kind of girl," she teased. "How old is she?" "Physically or mentally?" I quipped getting a giggle for my effort. "She's 24, but her mental age varies between 15 and 60." "That sounds just about right... I've got to meet her sometime," she replied with an amused tone, and I chuckled at her reply. "What?" she asked. "Nothing." "Come on, Mitch." "Even though I didn't admit to anything, she had said exactly the same thing: 'I've got to meet her one day'." "Well... I can arrange that," she teased, making me shiver at the thought. "Oh, I'm sure you would get along fine. At least, you share the same passion and have a similar background. I'm just worried about how I could deal with the two of you." "Really? Tell me more. What's she like? What does she do?" "She's at the med school; finished her sixth year a few months ago. Now, she's going for her specialization." "Wow! Seriously, Mitch. If you don't mind, I would really like to meet her." "Oh, I do mind! But... I don't see how I could prevent it," I replied half-joking, but there was a slight edge to my voice. That gave her a pause and she hesitantly asked, "You're serious about this, aren't you?" "It's not about you, Dana. It's about the past, and _her_. I don't talk about her and nobody knows much about what happened or how it happened..." I didn't finish my sentence, but Dana was quick to get my meaning. "You mean, I'm the only one..." "Yes. Look, I'm not implying anything, OK? I just know my sister. She's devious. I can't even think of a plausible answer to the question of how we met or why we met. A small slip up, and she'll be all over me like white on rice. She won't try anything with you, but I'll be put through the wringer. I love her, but I won't put up with certain things." Changing to a less serious tone, I added, "I don't really mind it, Dana. I think it might be good, especially if you can, somehow rein her in. I love her too much and she... well, she knows that." "Are you sure, you're not scared of the idea that your sister and I would form a sisterly pact?" she teased. "Well... OK! I'll admit it. The thought crossed my mind... more than once," I replied with a chuckle. "How serious are you about meeting her, Dana?" "Pretty serious." "Any particular reason?" "It's hard to explain... We really need to talk about these things face to face, Mitch." "I guess... I was just curious. I don't need to know your reasons. Maybe it would be better. I have handled her before, so don't worry about it too much." "Are you sure?" "Yes, Dana, I'm sure. I don't want to sneak around, or hide." "OK!" she said. After a short pause, she asked, "You're not going to tease her to death about me, are you?" I almost missed the amused tone. She was sharp. I hadn't even thought about the possibilities. I would have eventually, but Dana had beaten me to it. "Darn! I was just thinking about the possibilities. How did you-- " "Honey, if I were in your shoes, I would have. After all the things you said about her..." "Hmmm... I'm not going to regret my decision, am I?" "I love you too much for that," she said, her voice filled with emotion. "I... I wanted to say those words first, Dana. Tonight just doesn't seem to be my night." "You said it first, Mitch... if you remember..." "Yes, but... you know what I mean." "I know." After a pause, she changed the subject, "Is she listed in the directory?" "Yeah. Katherine Tanner." For extra measure I gave her the number and address, which she noted down. As we finished our conversation with "I love you," my sister walked in, wearing her bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her hair. When I looked up, she had an amused expression. "Strange way to end a conversation. Considering, you were talking to _them_," she quipped. When I didn't respond, she continued, "I never thought I would hear you say those words again, Bro." That reminded me... _She_ had been the only one until recently. _Do I still love her, or am I in love with that 19 year old girl? What's going to happen with her... and Dana? What's the meaning of the dream?_ I didn't have an answer to any one of them. "Why? I say those words to you and good friends. I said it... to _them_," I replied with a teasing grin. "_Them_? Come on, Mitch. Why don't you spell it out? She's not a _them_. She has a name. At least use her name or say _she_. Do I have to find it out using my own means?" "That would prove to be a difficult task, Sis. You don't know _them_. You never met _them_," I goaded her. I was enjoying myself too much, especially pressing her buttons, after all the headache she had given me. I would eventually let her know, but I wanted her to sweat a bit. "_Really_?" she responded with an ominous tone, and I felt the hair rise at the back of my neck. Kathy never shied away from challenges. This wasn't the first time I wondered how we managed to avoid killing each other, considering how stubborn and competitive we had been since childhood. _What's she up to?_ "Yes, really. I gave you the opportunity before. You just had to give me your promise. Instead, you decided to act like a child. Give me your promise and I'll tell you about... _them_," I replied, flashing a grin. "How about... I don't give you my promise... and..." "And?" "Still find out about her... for example who she is?" she retorted smugly. "Not from me, Sis. I ain't saying nothing about... _them_!" "I didn't say you would. I just don't want you to get pissed off, when I get her name. That's all!" "Oh, I'm not worried about that." "OK! By the way, I'm going to throw you a freebie, and won't bother you with questions. Just so, you can't say I wasn't being sporting about this." I felt something cold run at my back, and almost shivered at the feeling. She never gave freebies! _Fuck! Twice in a day? I know you have a devious mind, but you can't be that lucky. What the hell am I missing?_ "If you're not going to bother me with questions, why is it so difficult to give me your promise?" I asked. "A promise is indefinite. It closes all the doors, and I know you'll hold me to it." "And the freebie is not a promise? It sounded almost like a promise." "That's where you're mistaken, dear brother. I'll get her name by my own means and I won't bother you with questions, until you tell me about her. After that, the doors don't stay closed. That's the difference." Giving me a devilish grin, she continued, "Not only that, but I can change my mind anytime I want. After all, I'm a woman and we are entitled. I won't do that with a promise, and you know that." I couldn't help but laugh at her antics. She could be entertaining when she wanted to be. She seemed so sure of herself I wanted to see how creative she would get, and how long it would take her to find out Dana's identity. "OK. I'll play. Do your worst." Suddenly, she got serious. "Mitch, I don't want to piss you off, OK? She's good for you, and I wouldn't mess it up for anything. Especially, something trivial like this challenge." "It's all right, Kathy. Really. I'm just curious what you're planning and how long it will take you." She was still not convinced, and for the first time I noticed something else. She was apprehensive about the aftermath; if our relationship would change for the worse. "Kathy, I'm game. Go ahead. Just like the old times." When she heard that she knew I meant it and her face lit up with enthusiasm. I guess we both missed our childhood closeness and here was a moment that captured it. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she asked, "Have you got a watch, dear brother?" "Watch? For what?" "I think this will be a record in terms of the shortest battle ever fought. I want it recorded for posterity!" she retorted with a big grin. "Sheeesh, Kathy. I hope you won't be rubbing it in every minute of the day." I was getting into the spirit of things. "Ahh, Mitch, I love you too much for that." At that, I almost blurted out what Dana had said. _I think you two will get along just fine, when you get to meet each other._ "I'm waiting, Sis. I'm curious how you're going to pull up a rabbit from a non-existent hat." With a smile on her face she walked to the telephone and picked it up. "I have my magic hat here," she retorted wickedly. _Shit! Redial. For fuck's sake, how the hell did I not think of it? She gave me enough hints and enough warning. She had been a real sport with this. I'll give her that._ Kathy was probably going to fake a wrong number call. I tried to recall how Dana responded to my call; she had used her full name. Kathy pressed the redial button and listened. "Oh, I'm sorry. I must have dialed the wrong number." While I expected the call to end, I saw Kathy sputter, her expression changing to a stunned surprise. She hesitated for a moment before replying with a timid, "Y-yes." The call wasn't finished and Kathy was still listening. I heard several 'hmmms' and 'ahhhs,' with a 'yes' thrown in between. _What the hell's going on?_ Finally, Kathy said, "Yes. I will. I'm sorry to disturb you at this late hour." Then she finished the call with a "Good night." She had a dazed expression on her face, but also a smile. "OK, what just happened"? I asked, dreading the answer. From her expression, I was pretty sure Dana had caught Kathy at her game. "You have a very cool girl friend, Mitch. I like her." "She figured out who you were?" I asked the obvious. "It seems she had been forewarned," she came back. "I didn't say anything." "Well, it seems you've talked about me. When my call came a few minutes after yours, she got suspicious. So, she took a potshot, and... well, she scored." "Well, you did deserve that." "Yeah, I did. It was pretty embarrassing at first, but she was cool." I nodded. "She told me to tell you that everything was all right. She suggested I talk to you first, before you called her back." "What else did she say?" "Nothing. She was trying to put me at ease, that's all. She also said that she would like a call back from you. She'll be up for another hour." "OK, I'll call her. Anything else?" "Nope." "No, I mean, no questions from you?" "Well... I'm dying to know about her, but I'll wait. Just don't make me wait too long." "Kathy I can't promise anything; that's why I was trying to get your promise. You know me well enough to understand that I have my reasons. This isn't a high school romance thing." She nodded, still a bit shaken. I called Dana and we had a short talk. "How is she taking it?" she asked. "Pretty much dazed. How did you catch her?" "Nobody calls me at this hour, and it was a young woman's voice, and it came not too long after your call. I was just going to let it pass as a wrong number call, but... people are usually careful, especially young women, at this late hour, about whom they dial." She was sharp and her reasoning was simple. I laughed at how easily Kathy had been figured out. "Don't laugh, Mitch," she admonished me. "Why shouldn't I? You don't know what she did before pulling that trick on me." "She's a clever girl, Mitch, and resourceful. So what did you lose?" "Oh, nothing serious. In fact, I don't think she'll gloat about this, at all." "What do you mean?" "She had the gall to ask me if I had a watch." "Watch?" Dana repeated, confused. "Yeah. She said she wanted this to be recorded for posterity for the shortest battle ever fought." I had to keep the handset off my ear, as Dana let out a hoot. When she collected herself, she said, "I like her. She plays for keeps." "Well... I like her too. Especially the new Kathy I have," I said loudly, so Kathy would hear me. "Leave me out of your sibling rivalry, Mitch. And be nice to her," Dana said. Just then I had a pillow on my head. As usual, Kathy was reverting to her teenage self. "Uh, OK! Are you sure you wouldn't give me a hand with a pillow fight I'm invited to?" "What did she do? Throw a pillow?" "Yep." "You deserved it, Mitch." "I guess, I did. I better not keep you up. It's already late." "Tell her I like her. And, Mitch... I love you." "I love you too, Dana. Sleep tight." When I sat on the couch next to Kathy, she looked up expectantly. "I gathered you got her name. We've...just met, and somehow hit it off. She's a few years older than me, and... well, we want to see where we go. It's too early to say anything." She wasn't satisfied with that, so she asked, "Can't you at least tell me how you met her or what she does for work?" Those particular questions were the ones that I dreaded. They could open a whole can of worms and I didn't want that. Kathy had an incredible mind, when I least expected it. "We've met at the airport... but actually... she was on the same flight I was." Kathy was putting me under the microscope again and she knew I wasn't telling her much. She also saw through how carefully I constructed my reply. To my surprise, she moved on... to something I didn't want to talk about at all. "OK. So, you saw her in the plane. What does she do?" "She's a flight attendant," I replied trying to keep my voice level. For a moment her eyes widened in surprise and I could hear the wheels turning in her head. I don't know what she thought, but to my surprise she changed the subject, swiftly. "It's getting late, Bro. It's time to hit the bed. Tomorrow we need to wake up early. We'll catch breakfast with Mom and Dad, and then you can collect your car and go to the garage." I realized I was holding my breath and I let it out slowly. I nodded and gave her a goodnight kiss, before I made my way to my room. * * * * * CHAPTER - 11: The 'Void' Next morning, I woke up early. After lazing in the bed for a few minutes, I got out. It was too early for Kathy to wake up, so putting on some sweats I went out for a short jog. The air outside was chilly. Not to risk a cramp I started to walk at a brisk pace in the direction of a playground not far from her place. Half-way, I switched to a jog. To tell the truth I never enjoyed jogging much, except when I was at a beach. There, the early morning or late afternoon jogs had always been nice. In the city, I didn't feel like jogging or running, even when I could find a park or a green spot. It just wasn't the same. However, I could spend hours walking from block to block, visiting shops; mostly the bookstores and electronics shops. When Kathy tagged along, she had trouble keeping up with my pace, especially when I was window-shopping for electronics. In many ways we were alike, except in our choices. She would spend hours in a department store and I would be in a bookstore, browsing through their selections, eventually ending up with an armload of books to take with me on my trips. Sometimes, when I had the patience, I would accompany her to department stores. However, I usually had a magazine or book to while away the time, as Kathy tried on clothes. She liked to read as well, whenever she had time from her studies or during her long shifts in the hospital, but her literary taste was mostly dictated by my choices. At the end of my vacation, she ended up with most of the books I'd bought. She didn't mind reading my choices in sci-fic, thriller, or horror genres. In fact, she developed a liking for Robert Ludlum, Stephen King, Wilbur Smith, Asimov, Clarke, and a few others. It didn't take long to reach the playground. At this early hour it was deserted, although in an hour it would get crowded, when the parents and school buses brought the kids to the school a few hundred yards away. At lunch hour, this place would be bustling with kids, a few of the teachers keeping an eye on them. I decided to take advantage of the early hour, and do my Tai Chi practice. When I finished, I sat on one of the benches, enjoying the crisp morning air. As usual, I was feeling at peace after my exercise. It had been a while since my last practice--the last two weeks at the rig had been busy and I hadn't had the time--and now, I realized how much I missed and needed the exercise. In the quiet solitude of the empty playground, I found my mind wandering; the fragments from early years drifting in and out, reminding me my study and practice of various martial arts, but especially Tai Chi. Slowly, my thoughts started to converge, following an ever narrowing spiral track, like the circular, fluid moves I had performed a short while ago... . . . . Tai Chi was the first martial art I had learned, and the one that I enjoyed the most. From outside it almost looked like an exotic form of ballet. I guess that was one part I liked about it; the calm and peace I found in the deliberate, studied slowness of each move, each stance, and the eerie grace and the fluidity that were present as I went through the forms. This was the only martial art where I could feel the chi, the inner energy my sensei always talked about. I had never advanced to the higher levels with some of the martial arts I took up, but Tai Chi offered me more than the others. What's more, the experience with Tai Chi came in handy when I practiced the other martial arts. Although it looked like a ballet performed in a slow motion replay fashion, Tai Chi was a serious martial art and it could be put to use with astonishing results, when performed at high speed. The next martial art my sensei taught me was Aikido. No surprises there. It was another defensive martial art. Although the two had very little in common, (in fact their origins were as far apart as they could be, one being Chinese and the other being Japanese), somehow, I made the transition to Aikido much easier and faster then I expected. Despite the differences in their origins and the forms, they complemented each other. I found myself using the circular, fluid motions of Tai Chi, in combination with the grips and locks of Aikido, changing from one form to the other instinctively. Once, I had my sensei on the tatami mats during practice, the first time ever, and we had a short discussion about it. I was elated to be able to beat him, but was also curious whether that had been a fluke or a lucky break. He had explained that I had been _in the moment_ and in harmony with my opponent. He went further to explain that in combat or a fight, there was rarely any harmony to be found and the outcome was mostly determined by the skill levels and the readiness of the spirit, the mental attitude. I had the skills, but I had to learn about the timing and _being in the moment_; the spiritual and mental preparation. Thus, began a new journey, one that was filled with frustration. On rare occasions, it filled me with dread and fright. He started me on Kenjutsu, the art of the sword. It was, for the most part, repetitive and boring; practicing the cuts with the bokken countless times, until my muscles memorized each move and they became second nature. Then, we started on the meditative forms, while my practices with the bokken concentrated on timing. I didn't enjoy Kenjutsu as much as Tai Chi or even Aikido. It took me a long while to make progress, although Tai Chi helped, to a degree, with the meditative forms and spiritual preparation. Later, we moved on to the opening stances, and katas, and how to move from one cut to the other, as I did with Tai Chi. But, I was far from being able to improvise as I had with Tai Chi and Aikido, mixing and matching moves, grips, and locks. I had, however, learned about timing, and was making progress in _being in the moment_. I studied the spiritual preparation and mental attitude. I was still concerned about winning, as anybody would be in any kind of competitive sport, but Kenjutsu required a completely different set of mental attitudes. I knew (and learned) about clearing my mind, and controlling my emotions like anger, and even fear. But, Kenjutsu required me to delve deeper, where it led me to... the _Void_. A place where there was no emotion... no thought... just emptiness. It had been a scary experience, filling me with unease. It had felt alien, dark and foreboding. Although my sensei felt my unease and reluctance, he urged me to explore it. We had long discussions about the Void, and about my reluctance. He managed to convince me that my notions of light and dark, good and evil were what kept me from exploring the darkness and the emptiness I had discovered in the Void. One day, instead of Kenjutsu practice, he asked me to perform my Tai Chi exercises. Once I completed my practice, he asked me to repeat them, but also to seek the Void during the exercise. It was a different experience and a new discovery. He joined in, and we moved into combat Tai Chi, once again switching back and forth between styles, from Tai Chi to Aikido--the higher levels of Aikido that could be used to attack instead of defense only. And, I was in the Void, in that dark, swirling mess; no emotions, no thought, my senses awake as if I had a third eye that I could look at the world. At the end of the practice, he prepared tea, letting us wind down, and we discussed what I experienced. "So, Mitchell, what did you think about today's exercise?" "It was different. The emptiness... the darkness wasn't what I thought or felt it would be. I'm confused. Why did it seem foreboding when I tried it with Kenjutsu?" "It was my mistake, Mitchell. I apologize. Kenjutsu is still a combat art, although its teachings are peaceful. They should be used to attain calm and peace. I had forgotten your upbringing. You are still, very much a Westerner in upbringing, and have different notions about life and death, good and evil, light and dark." "I'm sorry, but I don't understand, Sensei." "Mitchell, when you take the sword in hand, the katana or the bokken, you are automatically associating it with life and death, even if it is for practice or for competition like Kendo. At the best, during competition, you are still concerned about winning or losing. You can control your fear, and empty your mind to some degree, but, you were never able to let go, and free yourself. You've learned about controlling your emotions, emptying your mind, but there is a deeper level... the Void. You never really reached that state in Kenjutsu, and that is why you had, you have difficulty." "What about Tai Chi and what happened now?" "Ahh. That is the crux of what I was trying to teach you. You have the answer yourself," he replied. I pondered his cryptic words; what he said about Kenjutsu and how I felt about it compared to Tai Chi. "Tai Chi is a solo martial art, and defensive, and I find it easy to attain calm and peace," I said. "Precisely. You don't concern yourself about winning, and you don't associate it automatically with life and death. Even though, you know it can be used for combat, and very effectively so." "So, I managed to sink in the Void, without preconceptions. The darkness in there is... part of the light... Yin and Yang?" He nodded, then asked, "What did you find in the darkness, Mitchell?" "Emptiness..." When I didn't continue, he prompted, "And?" "Purity and clarity," I replied, still contemplative, and trying to put into words my experience. He raised an eyebrow, his black eyes urging me to continue. "It was as if I was seeing the first time... if seeing is the right word?" A small smile formed on his usually expressionless face. "Good. You've been a gifted student, Mitchell," he said, then paused to consider his next words. "I have to say, however, that you might not progress further. Does that bother you?" "Why do you say that, Sensei?" "You will not take Kenjutsu as a martial art, and continue to study it further, will you?" I thought about my answer. I wanted to learn more, but I knew my heart wasn't in it, not as much as in Tai Chi. I was happy to keep learning more if I could, and practice what I had learned, but I didn't have the time to devote to further my studies. "It would require more time than I could devote to it. I've started very late." "Yes. That is so. I'm glad you recognize your limits. But, you'll keep at it, as time permits, and practice what you've learned?" he asked. "Yes, Sensei." "I have to warn you, Mitchell. That might prove to be extremely frustrating. You want to learn new things, and enjoy making progress, however little progress it might be. You have the patience for it, but Kenjutsu is an art that is difficult to master, requires a lot of time. I think you'll find that the little progresses become unsatisfactory after a while. You have a hunger for more. On the other hand, Tai Chi and Aikido will reward you well. I think you will find a lifetime of joy in them." "Yes, Sensei. I understand. But, knowing all that, why did you start me in Kenjutsu?" "It served its purpose. You had moved along faster than I expected. That day, when you beat me to the mat, mixing Tai Chi with Aikido, I realized I needed to introduce you to the Void. You needed to learn about timing and being in the moment. You had learned them partially, with Tai Chi and Aikido. You could center yourself, and feel the chi, but timing and being in the moment are basic and essential to Kenjutsu. More than that, the cut of the Katana requires a purity and clarity of spirit. You needed to learn about _no mind_, and the purity and clarity of spirit. I wasn't sure if I could teach you without Kenjutsu. And I wanted to see how far you'd progress in Kenjutsu." "There is," I paused, "more than that..." His dark eyes glittered for a moment at my comment, as if pleased at something. "Yes, there is, Mitchell. You needed to be exposed to martial arts that have uses in combat, that are not purely defensive. Combat Tai Chi is a very effective martial art, as the later lessons you've learned in Aikido. But, they are, in essence, more suited for defense, rather than combat. You know you're good, but there are a lot of people who study martial arts. Somebody who is very much proficient in one of the martial arts, like Karate, could take you down. You needed an edge. You can hold your own against many, and with the Void, you have an edge, unless you encounter another who knows about the Void. Master of one Art is master of nothing. You remember that, don't you? I also know, you'll use your knowledge for self improvement. Otherwise I wouldn't have taught you, Mitchell." I bowed, and said, "Thank you, Sensei." He returned it with a short bow, and replied, "Thank you, Mitchell. It's been a rare privilege to teach you." We drank our tea in silence for long minutes. Seeing me deep in thought, he said, "Mitchell, this is not _goodbye_. My door is open anytime. I know you want to continue your studies and I'll be glad to help. You still need to practice more to be comfortable with what you have learned today, and I would like to see you practice Kenjutsu at the level you can." "Yes, Sensei. I wish to continue. Thank you for your kind offer." "Mitchell, that's the least I can do. But always remember, and recognize your limits. Do you understand what I'm saying?" I thought about his question. I wasn't scared of what I had found in the Void, not anymore, but, I wasn't sure if I would seek it, even in Tai Chi. I knew I had to seek it in Kenjutsu, to make progress, but I had more trouble with Kenjutsu. When I explained my thoughts, Sensei nodded his agreement. "Yes, Mitchell. I was expecting that, and that's why I had to warn you about frustration. You may not feel comfortable to seek the Void, even when practicing Tai Chi, but know that it's there, when you need it. Tell me Mitchell, is it because you think its purity and clarity is almost absolute that you're concerned you'll be corrupted by it?" "Yes, Sensei. Or the temptation to use it might become irresistible." "I understand, Mitchell. Remember that it's a mental technique, a discipline, like centering yourself, but it is beyond the other techniques. That is the only difference. You don't need to use it or continue practicing that, if you feel uncomfortable. As I said, it will give you an edge, when you need it. You know about timing, and you know how to be in the moment. Those are all you need. You should by now, know that your awareness is on a different level. You have come a long way, Mitchell. And, that makes me happy." _I guess, I did... from that little scared and hurt boy to a confident and calm teenager._ . . . . I was nine years old, when I had seen him practicing the strange _thing_ in the ballpark. It was late afternoon, all the kids had left the school several hours ago, and I was still carrying the bruises of my last encounter with one of the school bullies. The physical hurt wasn't that bad. Once I got over the initial pain of a punch or two, they were reduced to an uncomfortable throbbing. And, the burning anger helped reduce the hurt to the point where I didn't feel much of the pain. I was sick and tired of feeling helpless, but as a nine year old, without many physical attributes, I didn't stand a chance against some of the more developed or older kids. After a few brawls, I wasn't even scared. I just wanted to pay back, for once, for the humiliation of losing the fights, not for the physical hurt. Seeing this strange guy go through some complex sequence of moves with eerie slowness, I headed for one of the benches to watch what he was doing. I had no idea what it was he was doing, but after a while, just watching him, I forgot all my worries and hurt. I felt a calm that I hadn't felt for a long time. After he finished, he walked to me, and sat down on the same bench, and we talked. I was interested in knowing what he was doing, and he was concerned about how I looked. Once I learned what a martial art was and what he was practicing, my first question had been, if he knew Karate. When he replied he did, my second question had been if he would teach me, which he refused. However, he offered to teach me Tai Chi, what I had seen him practicing. When I didn't show an interest, he told me it would help more than Karate would. I couldn't see how Tai Chi would help, and he asked me what I had to lose by giving it a try. To make it more interesting, he suggested that after a year of Tai Chi practice, he would reconsider my request about Karate. He asked me if I understood what he was proposing. When I replied that he wasn't making a promise, but I might get a chance to learn Karate after a year, he smiled. One year seemed so long, almost like an eternity--well, what nine year old wouldn't think one year was an eternity?--but in the end, there was the possibility of learning Karate. And, I didn't have anything to lose; it was going to take time. He wanted to take me home and talk with my parents, but I told him he could forget our deal. This was between him and me. In the end, he promised that he wouldn't talk about my problems with other kids. He would tell my parents that we had met in the ballpark, and I was interested in learning and he was interested in teaching me. That was the beginning of a journey of self discovery. I put all my energy to learning Tai Chi, and at times Sensei had to slow me down, without curbing my enthusiasm. Initially, all I could think of was the next year. After the first three months, he lectured me about right and wrong attitudes, and warned me about my reasons for following the training. Of course, he knew I wanted to pay back the bullies that tormented me. When I didn't get what he was trying to tell me, he asked if I liked any animals. I always liked dogs as pets, although I had never had one as a pet. One day, he took me to a center where they kept stray dogs. I saw dogs being trained for later sale to families, and a few that actually got sold that day. Then he showed me some of the dogs that were aggressive, almost wild. He explained that those dogs were dangerous and un-trainable. When I asked what happened with them, he told me they were put to sleep. I was young, but I understood the dogs were being killed. Then he took me to a room where they put the dogs to sleep. There was a wild dog struggling, trying to bite the guys holding it, while a doctor (veterinarian) was preparing a syringe for injecting the animal. Sensei asked me to touch the dog, and feel his heartbeat, after which he took me out of the room. A few minutes later we entered the room again and the dog was lying motionless on the table. When I touched the animal, I couldn't feel the heartbeat. That room left me uneasy. When we were back at Sensei's house, he prepared tea, and we talked about what I had seen. He took his time to draw the parallels between the wild dogs, the bullies at school, and my anger, and what I could do. He explained how the other dogs that were sold (after being trained) made their owners and their kids happy. Finally, I began to understand what he was trying to tell me. He took me to a training room, and got me to expel all my frustration and anger on a punch bag. Once I was out of breath and tired, we took a break, while he explained the calm and peace I could find in Tai Chi. After that, he started doing the exercises, letting me watch, and I remembered the first day I had seen him practice, and the calm I had felt. When he finished, he asked me to join in, and that was a new experience, and a new start. My studies took me several months, but the anger was still there at times, especially when I couldn't avoid an encounter with the bullies. My sensei was teaching me how Tai Chi could be used for defense, and one day, during an encounter with one of the bullies, I used my newly acquired knowledge, effectively. Once I had him on the ground, my anger took over, and I kicked him; my humiliation of all the brawls and teasing I had endured taking over me, and finding an outlet. After that point, I wasn't using my knowledge, but was yelling, and shouting and threatening him, while I sat on his chest and kept on punching him. He was trying to protect himself from my wild attack. When I expelled all my anger, I stood up, while he laid there cowering. Luckily I didn't hurt him badly, but I realized I had been like a rabid dog, viciously attacking. I remembered my visit to the dog center, and what Sensei and I had talked about after that visit. I needed to see and tell him about what I had done. I dreaded telling him about the incident, but I didn't know who else I could talk to about what I had done. One look at me and he knew what I had done. His eyes darkened, as he gave me a sad look. He prepared tea, and I told him about the incident. "Why did you tell me what you did, Mitchell?" "I don't know who else I can talk to. I need help. I don't want to be a rabid dog." "So you remember your visit to the dog center?" I nodded. "Did you enjoy hurting him?" "I don't know... I think I did. I was angry. He hurt me many times." "So you think he deserved it?" "I-I... Didn't he? He hurt me many times before today." "Yes, he did hurt you. Tell me. If he tries to hurt you again, what will you do?" "I don't think he'll try again." "Probably. But let's assume he came after you... what will you do?" "I will fight, but... I don't want to hurt him... Like I did today." "Why is that, Mitchell? He still wants to hurt you." "He may want to, but he can't. Not anymore. I won't allow that." "You don't want revenge? You don't want to punish him?" "It's not right. He was bigger than me and he beat me. I didn't like being hurt. Today I beat him, and I know he didn't like it. I'm not him. I didn't want the fight. He's like a rabid dog, but I don't want to be a rabid dog. Today, I became a rabid dog." "Yes, you did. For a while. Let's get back to him; he's a rabid dog. Don't you want him put to sleep?" "He's not a dog. He's a kid." "Assume he's an animal, Mitchell. Just a rabid dog. Wouldn't you put the rabid dog to sleep?" "I rather have the dog in a cage, where he can't hurt anybody. I didn't like what they did in the center." He was quiet for a long time, and kept his gaze locked on me, as he seemed to mull something in his mind. Then he resumed his questions. "Let's assume you're on the street, and there is a rabid dog. You have a stick. The dog chases you. What would you do?" I thought about his question, given the new scenario, wondering about what I could do in such a situation. "I don't know, Sensei." "You don't know?" "I can run away, or use the stick to keep him away." "Yes. Interesting choices, aren't they?" "Which one is the right choice, Sensei?" "Sometimes, there are no right answers. Can you see that, Mitchell?" "I'm not sure I understand, Sensei. How can there be no right answers?" "Think about your options, Mitchell. Think about why you would choose one over the other." "If I run away, and the dog can't catch me, I'm not in danger. If I can't run away, I have to use the stick. That's what I did with him most of the time, if I could; run away. When he caught me, he used to beat me. Now, I could face him, if I have to." "Yes, Mitchell. There is one point you have to remember. Even when you use the stick, you could still get hurt, while trying to keep the dog away. In any confrontation that is a possibility. Avoiding confrontation is better. Most of the time. There are times, however, when confrontation is inevitable. Even then, one must do anything in his power to avoid confrontation. But, once you are into a confrontation, then you do what you can and need to do to survive. That is a survival trait each of us carry with us. Martial arts give you tools. They teach you how to survive, and a discipline to use those tools. Do you understand?" "Yes, Sensei." "Good. The arts also teach how to avoid confrontation. We haven't touched them yet, but we will. It helps you to deal with confrontation, and combat. Mitchell, this is very important. You have learned some skills. When you used them, you had beaten a kid that was bigger and older than you. They gave you an advantage over his size and age. But, there's a responsibility that comes with this knowledge. You cannot use the tools indiscriminately. Do you understand?" "Yes, Sensei. It is like.. when he used his age and size to beat me. He used it for no reason at all." "Very good, Mitchell. And you understand that's what made him a rabid dog, and what will make you a rabid dog! Without the discipline, it's easy to use those tools indiscriminately. There will be times, the temptation will be very strong. Do you understand temptation, Mitchell?" "I'm not sure, Sensei." "Let's say you're in a candy store. The owner is at the back, and there's nobody around. You see your favorite candy in the jar. You want the candy, but you don't have money. Since there's nobody around, you can take the candy and leave the store. Nobody will know it. Would you?" "But that's stealing. It's wrong." "Yes, it is. But you want the candy, Mitchell. It's your favorite candy, and you want it. Nobody will know if you take a few pieces." "Yes, but... it's still wrong." "Yes, it is, Mitchell. Wanting that candy is not wrong, but acting on that want, and stealing is wrong. That want will tempt you to steal it." "Yes, I understand, Sensei." "Mitchell, we are talking about stealing candy that you want, but there are many things in life that you will want. As you grow up, your wants will be different. There will be many different temptations. One of them will be the temptation to fight somebody you dislike or somebody that is trying to hurt you. The more skills you learn, the better you'll be able to beat your opponent, so you might be tempted to beat a person to settle an argument, rather than find another solution. Want, jealousy, anger, fear, and many other feelings will confuse you, cloud your judgment, and lead you into temptation. You might want to have your own way, take what you want, overcome obstacles in your way, using these tools, especially if you don't think about right or wrong. Sometimes, things are not as simple as in the candy example--you knew stealing is wrong. And, there will be times, you might be confused about what is right or wrong, or have no clear answers to those questions. Do you understand? "Yes. Sensei, I know stealing is wrong, but how do I deal with other situations? You tell me I will be confused by many things." "Martial arts will teach you discipline, and will give you the tools to make you think clearly, to overcome the confusion. You enjoy doing your Tai Chi exercises, don't you? You feel calm and at peace when you're doing your exercises and you enjoy that feeling. In time you will learn to control your anger and other feelings, so that you don't get confused. It will take time and practice, but you already know that by now. Tell me, Mitchell. Do you still want to learn Karate?" "I wanted to learn Karate, because I thought I could use it to beat him," I confessed, feeling apprehensive, but he nodded me to continue. "But I already beat him with Tai Chi. I don't know if I need to learn Karate. I know I enjoy Tai Chi, _very much_." "I know that you started to enjoy Tai Chi, as I hoped you would. Do you want to continue Tai Chi, because you've seen what it can do?" "Yes... but... I want to learn what you told me about. I don't want to be a rabid dog. I think, when the time comes, I can learn Karate the way I'm learning about Tai Chi." "Yes, Mitchell. There are many forms of martial arts. We will examine them in time. I want you to remember this conversation and what you learned from today's incident. That will help along the way to deal with temptation, and help you understand the essence of martial arts and its teachings. Remember that there are right ways and wrong ways of doing things. Remember also you have options. Look for them, and you'll find them. In time, you'll come to see options, possibilities where there were none before. Martial arts are a lifelong study and a continuous learning experience, Mitchell. Never forget that." * * * * * As I was walking back home, my mind was still busy with the past, memories of Sensei and my studies. It had been quite a few years since I had thought about Sensei. I had kept up with Kenjutsu for some time under Sensei's tutelage, but eventually, decided to stop. I had experimented with the Void, but had been reluctant to seek it, even when practicing Tai Chi. I had known all along my heart hadn't been in Kenjutsu. My sensei had been right to warn me. Thinking back over the last several years, I could also see I had thrown aside some of the teachings. I should have realized long ago that I was too lost in my heart-breaking love for her. The emptiness she left had scared me, because it had seemed too much like the emptiness in the Void. They were very different but, lost in my pain and hurt, I had been confused, and had turned my back on most of my training. Almost to the point of rejecting some of the teachings. I wasn't sure, yet, but I suspected now that I had perhaps blamed my failure on my training, and blamed myself for being a complete failure, when the training didn't help me deal with my lost love. The anger I had directed at myself, the anger I had used to fill- up the emptiness inside (which was still there) may have had sprung from disappointment with my failed attempts to cope with the emptiness, and resentment at my training when I had not been able to find any answers. But, failure was always a possibility. Martial arts don't give you all the answers. Sometimes there are no answers. I should have known better. I needed to look into these questions and find the answers. Yet, for some reason, I dreaded seeking the answers. Was it because I was scared to find out how far from the path I had fallen? I shook my head to clear the dark thoughts. But of course, that didn't help. I decided to take my time and attack the questions with patience. This could not be rushed. Once I had some answers, perhaps I would be able to deal with her, Dana, my family and my friends. A year ago, unknowingly, Pops had given me a partial key, but I had not been able to use what he had given me to full effect. Now, Dana had helped with her love. She didn't know it, even I hadn't known it at the time, but her love had been a catalyst. I could see that, now. My subconscious had probably recognized it before I had. Perhaps, that's why I had felt such a bond with Dana. Were my feelings for her based on gratitude or was it love? I thought about my feelings, and every time I came up with the same answer. I loved her. There was no question about it. There was gratitude, but my love for Dana was beyond that gratitude. Was I in love with her? I couldn't say. I needed more time to dig into that question and understand my feelings. I probably had to complete my own personal journey first, before I could commit myself to anybody. Whenever I did commit, I wanted to give my very best, but I wasn't at my best yet. Now, I could see that. It had been at the back of my mind, but now, it was obvious. Was this another reason why I had not wanted to be around people who loved me, family and friends? Perhaps. I needed to know how far I had strayed from my path, my course, before I could complete my journey. What's more, I had to find out what journey I was going to take and if it was the right journey, for the right reasons. It looked like a very complex, almost an insurmountable task and for a moment I panicked, before forcefully reminding myself, every journey started with a simple, single step, and built upon similar steps along the way. Hadn't I started with Tai Chi in the same way, without knowing what I was getting myself into, except wanting to get the chance to learn something else, and for all the wrong reasons? * * * * * (continued in next part, 4/5) <3rd attachment end> <4th attachment, "tfauc-pt-03.txt" begin> Title: Tales from an Unknown Corner Chapters: 12-16 (of 20) Author: Dai_wakizashi Universe: Tfauc Summary: Journey of a troubled young man looking for a path and people around him, who, at times, give shape to his journey. Codes: MF, FF, MFF, oral, anal, toys, petting, romance, drama Status: in progress Revision: 2.0 Web Sites: ASSTR- http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/dai_wakizashi/www/ SOL- http://storiesonline.net/home.php EWP- http://www.ewpub.org/ewpub.html Discussion Forum: http://www.ewpub.org/messageboard/viewforum.php?f=76 ***************************************************************** STANDARD DISCLAIMER This piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment. It contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT read any further. All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to any persons, places, individuals or situations is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities described in this story. This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author, Dai_wakizashi (dai_wakizashiAThotmailDOTcom). This story may be freely distributed with this disclaimer attached. Copyright (c) 2003-2004 Dai_wakizashi. All rights reserved. ***************************************************************** TALES FROM AN UNKNOWN CORNER [Tfauc] CHAPTER - 12: Sisters Know Best! Back at Kathy's place, I put the coffee on and hit the shower. Dressing up, I went to the kitchen and found Kathy, dressed in her peignoir, with a cup of coffee. From the looks of her disheveled chestnut hair, I realized she must have gotten out of bed a short while ago. Filling a cup for myself, I joined her in the living room. "Morning, Sis." With still sleepy eyes, she regarded me, before responding with a soft voice. "Morning. You were out?" "Yeah. Jogging. Say, how important is the breakfast with Mom and Dad, this morning?" "Your car is there, so I thought we would have breakfast with them, before you picked up your car." "Do they know what you were planning?" "Nope. We need to be there early this afternoon for tea, and for dinner. That was the original plan. What's up, Mitch?" "Nothing, Kathy. Slight change of plans. Let's have breakfast here. The car can wait." She perked up at the change of plans, but instead of coming up with questions, she decided to see what I was planning. I could tell she was excited, but trying to keep it under control. Giving her a kiss, I took her cup, which was still half full, and said, "Get your cute butt in the shower. In the meantime, I'll get the breakfast ready. Time's a wastin'." While her mouth was hanging open at the sudden turn of events, I walked to the little kitchen and started rummaging in the fridge to see what she had. Seeing she was still sitting there, I said, "Come on, Kathy. I know you like your eggs warm. Get movin'." Without a word, she left the living room, while I got busy setting the table and preparing the breakfast. I started a fresh batch of coffee, while waiting for the toast, then started on bacon and eggs. By the time she was back from her shower, dressed in jeans and a sweater, I was putting the bacon, eggs and toast on the plates. Like me, she had an appetite, and enjoyed a good breakfast. Sometimes, she had to be careful, as she had a tendency to put on a few pounds, especially when her studies took so much time that she didn't exercise. But, she didn't shy away from eating like some girls I had known. After we finished, I collected the plates and placed them in the sink. Filling up our cups, I picked up an ashtray and settled in the chair, lighting a cigarette. I could see she was getting impatient. "You're wondering what's up?" I stated the obvious. "That's an interesting way to put it. What's with all the cloak and dagger, Bro?" Despite her words, and cool exterior, her brown eyes were alight with curiosity, barely hiding her excitement. I smiled inwardly, watching her trying to keep her excitement under control. I couldn't help but wonder how formidable an adversary she would make if she had learned how to control her emotions. Still, she was more than I could handle at times. From a very early age, she had been a precocious child; her sharp mind surprising me at the most inopportune moments. As I thought about that, I was startled by another discovery. She hardly hid her emotions, but especially her love and affection towards the people she loved, and that included me. Even when we were engaged in a battle of wits, she didn't try too hard to hide her love. On the other hand, I would try to keep a poker face, not to give away what I was up to; sometimes resorting to the use of any and all tools in my arsenal. After the training I had embarked upon so long ago, controlling my emotions had become something of a second nature. Still, she managed to break through my cool exterior, quite often, and I had let her, especially when the battle was about trivial issues. But, over the last several years, I had erected better defenses when she tried to probe me about my life and the past; I just wasn't ready to talk about certain subjects. With those thoughts, I decided to make an effort to be more open with her in the coming discussion. At least, it didn't involve anything related to that summer, and I relaxed more. With a reassuring smile, I said, "No cloak and dagger, Kathy. If you don't mind, I have some questions. I would appreciate if you keep this talk between us." Ignoring my words, she asked, "What's on your mind, Mitch?" "I'm curious about something we've not talked about much." "Like what?" "My training. You haven't said much about it through the years, but at times... I had the feeling you didn't like what I was practicing." She thought about her answer for quite some time. I guess the subject must have come as a surprise, after so long. She also knew I had been and still was serious about my martial arts training. "Why do you ask that, Mitch?" "We know each other well. At least, we knew each other well when we were young. I'm curious about why you've felt the way you did, you do. Am I wrong in saying you didn't like my training very much?" "I never understood why you sought the training, why you felt the need." "I didn't seek it. Initially, I came upon it by chance at a time when it looked useful. I found it helped. Later, I continued because I enjoyed it, and learned a lot." "You mean the bullies at school, when you were young?" "You knew about them?" I asked, unable to hide my surprise at her question. She nodded. "What did you know?" "Sometimes, one of them would catch you out of the school and tease you, then beat you up. I know you evaded them most of the time, but sometimes you were beaten. Then you met that Japanese guy and started to train with him. I didn't know what you were doing, but I could see you were calmer, and not as scared. You were beaten a few more times until, one day, you paid one of the bullies back." _Sheesh! She had never said a word._ "You knew all that, but you didn't say anything." "I knew you felt humiliated. You would spend some time before coming home, so I knew you didn't want to talk. We were close, but this was your private war. You were stubborn and proud. I didn't want to lose you because of your pride. I got the feeling you didn't want any interference. I didn't want you to worry about who knew about it, like Dad, Mom or me. You had enough on your plate, without me or anybody piling more on top of it. You wanted to keep it a secret, so it stayed a secret." "I'm sorry, Sis. It must have been hard on you." "It wasn't as tough as trying to keep Mom and Dad from discovering what was going on." "Jeeez! Sis! Why would you do that?" "Several reasons. I was scared of losing you. I didn't want you to blame me for telling on you. I was also scared that you wouldn't be allowed to play outside. I knew you liked to do that, and I liked playing outside with you. You know how overprotective Mom was. She still is; that hasn't changed," she said with a strained smile. With a laugh, I nodded. "Understatement of the year, Sis. What else?" "I had seen how some of the other kids got it worse, when they complained about the bullies. I didn't want things to get worse than they were for you. If Mom got involved, she would have raised hell, but I didn't know if it would have solved the problems. It might have just made things worse, as it did for some of the kids. You had it easier than some others," she said, her eyes moist. "Kathy, it's OK! You did the right thing. You know it was the right thing. Come on. We're adults now, and we know how nasty kids can get. You should know that." "That doesn't make it any easier. Even after so many years." "It's all right, Kathy. It's over. I survived. As you said, I was lucky." She nodded, trying to compose herself. When she calmed down, I asked, "What did you know of the pay back?" "I was really surprised when I heard about it. I couldn't believe you had beaten him. But, when I saw that nobody bothered you again, I realized it was true, after all. I was so happy; I wanted to jump up and down in joy. That prick got what was coming to him." "And you knew that what I had learned helped?" "Yes. But, I expected you to stop. I didn't see any reason why you would continue. I was also scared that you would turn into one of those pricks, with what you were learning." "Why? I never sought a fight with anybody." "I know. You were calm and controlled, but you were starting to change. You were reserved, and distant. You didn't make friends easily. You had friends, but unlike other kids, you weren't friends with many kids. You also started to spend more time with your instructor, practicing, instead of playing with other kids." "But I spent time playing with you, or with Mom in the kitchen, cooking, talking." "I know, but I didn't understand why you devoted so much time to your training, instead of playing with other kids, doing fun things." "Did you ever think about how much I enjoyed practicing?" "I could see that, especially with Tai Chi. You still practice that?" "Yes, I do." "A few years later, when you moved on to other training, with the swords--I don't know what it's called--you didn't enjoy it that much?" "Kenjutsu. No, initially I didn't enjoy it. Later, I got something out of it, but my heart wasn't in it." "Why did you continue, Mitch? With something you didn't enjoy?" "It was necessary. I needed to learn about something. It served its purpose. But I get the feeling, you didn't like to see me practicing Kenjutsu. Is that right? Why were you concerned? What bothered you about my Kenjutsu training?" "Initially I didn't think much about it. But when I came back-- after the first year in boarding school--and saw you practice, I didn't like it." "What do you mean, Kathy?" "I had seen you practice Tai Chi. There's a beauty, a grace in it. Have you ever seen yourself practice? If you have, then you know what I'm talking about it." I smiled at her comment. "Kathy, I know there is beauty and grace in it. I've watched my sensei when he practiced, and I feel it when I practice. But, there's more to it than what you see from outside. You should realize that by now." "Yes. I believe so. But there was none of it in your sword practice. Well, not always. When you did that special meditation, and practiced... it was... scary." "The sword practice, with the special meditation... was scary?" "Yes. When I asked, you explained that you were doing a special meditation, sinking into the depth... I didn't like that. It scared me." "The Void," I corrected her. "What was the difference? What didn't you like, Kathy? Can you explain?" She went quiet, thinking, trying to put what had bothered her into words. "When you were practicing, it was smooth, but there were also flaws. I don't know much about how it should be, but I could see there were issues, as if something was out of place or slightly out of alignment. It's difficult to explain. I could see things that weren't as graceful as your Tai Chi performances, as if you were faltering. Does that make sense?" "Sure. It was imperfect. I wasn't very good with Kenjutsu, although I made progress, and reached a level that I was comfortable with, and my sensei said as much. So?" "That was when you were doing your normal practice. When you did your special meditation and started the practice... it was perfect, and it was scary. I was watching the same guy, but it wasn't the same guy. It was as if... as if there was another person that looked like you had taken your place. There was an intensity that wasn't there before. That wooden sword was like a big fan, sweeping the air in a blur, seeking, ready to destroy whatever dared to cross its path." She finished her description, very much agitated, her last words almost whispered, leaving me speechless by the strength of her emotions. I could feel and taste her fright like a physical thing. I was going to respond making light of her description, but one look at her face was enough to convince me that would be a mistake. Her hands were curled in a fist, the knuckles white. "Kathy. Please, calm down. It was just practice. An advanced form of exercise. Nothing more," I said softly. "I remember you describing it as a place where no emotion or thought resided. Do you have any idea how that sounds?" "I think I have an idea, Kathy. But you have to admit, you have no experience to compare with or judge what it is. You're using conventions, things you know, to make comparisons and pass judgment on something that doesn't fit into anything you've known before, or fit to any criteria that will make sense to you. There's nothing in your experience that will allow you to understand or measure what you're dealing with. It's like trying to describe colors to a person who was born blind, and even that analogy falls short of describing the situation." She was quiet, trying to understand what I said, but the conventions she had known didn't allow her wrap her mind around it. Well, I had experimented with it, and experienced it, and put it aside for so many years, because... because I hadn't been sure how I could use it. I knew if I tried I could sink in the Void, and that knowledge was enough. I tried to explain again. "Kathy, you've seen me do exercises to attain calm. That place is beyond that level of control. For what it's worth, I haven't practiced it much and put it aside some years ago." "Why is that, Mitchell?" she asked. She was sharp and once again her aim was true, scoring a perfect bull's eye. "I guess I'm as bound and limited by conventions as you are. Because of my other training, I was willing to investigate it. To tell the truth, I was scared the first time I tried to sink in the Void, because I didn't understand it. The next time, I understood what it was and wasn't scared of it, but... well... I didn't see any reason to practice it more. However, it has its uses. I know that. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?" "No, Mitch, I don't. I'm scared. You picked up your sword yesterday... and are taking it with you. Are you going to practice that thing again?" Her voice was thick with emotion, and I was racking my mind to find a way to explain and comfort her. "Sis, you work in Emergency and see people come in with all sorts of things. They are scared, because they don't know what's wrong with them, or they think the worst. Right?" She nodded. She was hanging on every word, her attention focused on what I was trying to tell her. "But you know more than they do. Most of the time, you know what's wrong with them and how it can be fixed, right?" She nodded again. "They might be scared, but are you?" She shook her head no. "Exactly. They trust you to fix their problem, because you have the skills, the knowledge, and experience. What's more, with every passing day, your skill level is increasing with your knowledge and understanding. In short, you're improving." She was quiet for a while, mulling what we talked in her mind. "OK, Mitch. I understand what you're saying. Because I don't know and don't understand what it is you're dealing with, I'm scared. How do you know what you're dealing with?" "Ahh, Sis. You're missing one crucial thing. You have your basic knowledge, and on top of all that, expertise on several subjects, and you keep on learning. What about me? My training was the same. And like you, there are times when I'm not sure about something, so I proceed with caution, but unlike you, I'm not putting anybody at risk when I make a mistake. I don't even put myself at risk. Come on, Sis. You know me. The Control Freak!" I said with a smile. That quip finally earned me a small laugh, but she was still apprehensive. When I looked askance, she shook her head. I insisted. "Come on, Kathy. You were the one who wanted to talk. We are talking. Are you going to quit on me, now?" "You don't want to talk about... that," she replied, pointedly. "This is about what you said yesterday? Me, shutting people out?" She nodded. "And you're thinking this is a result of my training? Especially that particular thing I learned?" She nodded again. "Kathy, I'm not ready to talk about some things, yet, but I can tell you this much: my training, especially the Void, has got nothing to do with it. I quit practicing it a long time before that... summer. That training has its uses, but shutting people out isn't one of them. You have to take my word for it. I think you know me well enough to know that I'm telling you the truth." She nodded, then asked, "May I ask one question?" "Only one?" I teased. "Yes, Mitch. And I hope you can answer it," she said with a reasonable tone, urging me to give it a serious consideration. "No promises, but I'll give it my best effort," I replied in the same reasonable tone. I took a drag from my cigarette, waiting for her question. Nothing could have prepared me for what was coming next--training or no training. It wasn't a bombshell. It was the fucking A-Bomb! My clever sister was either very lucky, or she must have studied strategy better than I had. "Does Dana know about your past?" she asked with dead calm. For all purposes, she could have been asking about the weather: "Isn't it hot, today?" I must say my reaction wasn't elegant. The cigarette smoke got caught at the back of my throat, irritating it something terrible, and I had a coughing fit. When I managed to gather a semblance of control, I took a sip from my coffee, trying to sooth my burning throat. In the meantime, my sister was trying to hide her laughter (and not very hard, I must add). _You, little witch! I'll get you for this!_ For God's sake, the shit she had pulled was incredible. No warning at all, and then... Slam dunk! Before I could say a word, she came back, adding insult to injury. "If this is your best effort, Mitch, I better take a rain check." "You witch! You just earned a payback. I'll get you for this." "It was worth it. Thank you for your elegant answer." "Kathy, that was below the belt. What did you do? Spend the whole night planning how to ask this question?" I retorted with an irritated tone. "Come on, Mitch. You were closed up for a long time. Suddenly, you're relaxed, almost happy. It turns out you've met a new girl who happens to be a flight attendant. You're not walking around with a chip on your shoulder. Then, we sit and talk about something we never talked about. What pisses me off is that, you've talked about your past with some new girl, instead of talking with me." "Hold it there! Not one more word. This talk is over!" I said, sternly, before standing up. I wasn't really angry, but I was scared where the talk would lead. When Kathy started on the subject of why I would talk with Dana about my past (there had been no precedent), she could have easily stumbled upon what exactly happened during the flight. _Unless, she has it worked out already... she had the whole night to think about it._ That thought filled me with dread. I made my way to my room to pick up my jacket. I wanted to be alone. I didn't want to keep fending off Kathy. _Shit! Everything was going so nice. Why did you do that, Kathy?_ I sat on the bed, examining my feelings. I hadn't been angry about what she did. I was shocked, but now, I resented it. Mostly because she was going in a direction that would open a whole can of worms, and I wasn't ready for it, yet, if ever. "Mitch, I'm sorry." I looked up and saw her standing by the door, her arms crossed, with a sad and scared expression on her face. When I didn't respond, she said, "Mitch, I'm sorry. Please, don't do this. I didn't know what I was doing." "Really? You didn't know what you were doing? From where I stood, it didn't look like that at all," I replied, unable to keep the resentment from coloring my voice. "I'm sorry, Mitch. We were just having fun, and it was too good an opportunity to pass up. I didn't expect--" she replied with a small voice, before I cut her off. "Not one more word, Kathy. You're on probation. I mean it." At that her face fell, her eyes getting moist. She tried one more time. "I'm truly sorry, Mitchell. I'll promise anything you want. Just don't do this. Please? You know I keep my promises." _She would never give a promise, unless... Oh, no! Come on, Kathy. I love you. I'm not going to shut you out, but..._ I tried to calm myself. Then, with a tired sigh I said, "Kathy, I love you. I want to make you happy, but... you really don't know when to stop. I'm at fault as much as you are. Please, tread a bit more carefully. I don't want promises, but don't take that as carte-blanche, OK? That's not the Kathy I know. I want back that clever, scheming she-devil who drives me crazy; my Kathy." At that, she rushed at me and I was flattened on the bed, with her straddling me and painting my cheeks with kisses. Then she sat up, still straddling me and gave me an embarrassed and guilty look. _What, now?_ "Out with it. Since I seem to be in a forgiving mood, out with it," I said. "I have a confession to make, but promise you'll not hit the roof." "Kathy, you're in no position, and you know that. I said I'm in a forgiving mood." "I hope you'll not get angry with me when you hear this. It's about this Saturday." "Go on." "It's about, Sarah." _Oh, brother! I hope it's not what I think it is._ "Tell me you didn't cook something with Sarah?" She nodded apprehensively. "God, Kathy! And how long were you going to keep it a secret?-- Never mind that--What did you cook up this time?" "Well... she doesn't have a boyfriend... _anymore_. She had one, but she broke up." She waited to see how I would react. "_Very cute_, Kathy. She had a boyfriend, but not anymore. You think you can explain away what you said about Sarah, with this little detail?" I asked, amused at her antics. "I learned _it_ from you." "Kathy!" I warned her, reminding her of her current situation, but she wasn't going to heed it. "What!!! It's the truth, and we both know it. You're a master at it," she retorted. "OK. I'm not going to get into a discussion on this now. Go on. What else you've got planned?" "Well... She's interested in you." "You're joking, right? This isn't more babe and bombshell stuff?" "I'm serious, Mitch. She came out with it. She had been asking about you now and then. I didn't realize she had an interest in you. I mean, you said it yourself; it's been five or six years since she saw you, so I never gave a thought." "But, when she expressed her interest, you turned her down, _right_?" I asked her in a sarcastic tone. We both knew what the score was on that point. "In fact, I _did_." Seeing my skeptic look, she elaborated. "Sorry, Bro, but you haven't been much fun lately, and she's my best friend. I love you, but since you weren't shopping for girlfriends, I thought it was the right thing to do." "Yes, it was. So you _did_ everything you could?" She gave me a pained look. "She insisted, and finally got me to tell her a bit about you. I didn't tell her much, but--you know, some generalizations: how you kept busy with your work and had little time for romance." Seeing the disbelief on my face, she hurriedly added, "I swear, Mitch. I didn't tell her anything. I had to say something. She's my best friend, but you're my brother." "Not even a little mention of a broken heart, maybe?" "I didn't say anything, although..." "Although what, Kathy?" "I kinda mentioned you had something going on a few years back, but that hadn't worked out, and since then you had been too busy with your work." "_Real nice job_, Kathy," I said, sarcastically. "I thought so myself," Kathy retorted, unabashed. Seeing the irritated look on my face, she got defensive. "I didn't say anything, Mitch. She might draw some conclusions, but I didn't say anything. I needed to warn her a bit. Be honest, and tell me if I did anything wrong?" "No... you did not. But... I don't want you to make a habit of it. I told you before; I'm not shopping for girlfriends." "No, you're not. Not _anymore_." "You're _incorrigible_. Why am I putting up with you?" "Because... I'm your _sister_... and, you love me to _death_?" "Maybe I should forget about the love part and go straight to death," I quipped. "You don't mean _that_!" "No, I don't. But sometimes... You know what I mean... So, is there more to this story?" I asked, directing us back to the subject. "Well, after that little talk about you, she came out and asked if I would mind if she took a shot at you. That's when I realized she was serious about it. I asked why she wanted to pursue you, and she told me she remembered you as a pleasant, quiet kid; a bit shy perhaps, but a nice kid. You've both known each other for a long time and she liked you then. She wants to see if there's something. Compared to her current crop of boyfriends, she thinks you might be different." "You know, this is going to be a real pain in the neck. At least, with those sharks, I can ignore them. Sarah is... well, Sarah is different. She's your best friend, and I've known her a long time. For God's sake, Kathy... the things you get me into sometimes..." "I'm sorry, Mitch, but whether I talked with her or not, she was probably going to find a way to get to see you." "Yeah... It seems she had something in her mind for a while." She had an amused look on her face and was trying hard not to laugh. "What's so _funny_?" "Well, Bro. You seem to have a streak of luck lately. After a long drought, you have girls raining all over you." I grimaced at the thought. I had enough complications in my life. Seeing my look, she said, "Oh, _come on_, Mitch; _be happy_! You need some happiness. Don't tell me, you're still hung up on..." Her voice faded, as she noticed how I tensed up. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry," she said, with an apologetic tone. Getting off me, she allowed me to stand up. Changing the subject swiftly, she asked, "So what's the plan, Bro? Do we go and get your car?" "Yeah. We better do that. I don't want to be late for the afternoon." She moved in and hugged me, while softly whispering, "Thank you. Seeing you happy, I keep forgetting... things. I love you and I'll be more careful." I hugged her back, rocking her, kissing the top of her head. It had been a long time since we'd been this close. "Do you think Mom suspects anything?" I asked. "Well, she's sharp, but she won't grill you. Not after last year." "What do you mean?" "She was scared of losing you. After that big argument, she realized she was running the risk of pushing you away. You know, Dad never got involved in things like that, and always kept quiet. A year ago that changed. He was also worried, but when Mom heard the latest escalation, she was close to panic, and he had to do something. However it was mostly because of Mom, to calm her down." "He had to-- what do you mean?" "Dad knew if they kept putting pressure on you, they might lose you. You know how Dad is. He keeps his thoughts to himself, and doesn't talk much, unless it becomes necessary. Last year it was bad. He believed you'd take care of yourself, even though he was worried. But, when they heard the news of the _attack_, for the first time he looked scared; really scared that something might happen to you. When Mom panicked, he knew he had to do something. That's why he was hard on you. When you gave them the cold shoulder, especially to Mom, he backed away, and tried to talk with Mom." "And?" I prompted. Kathy didn't respond, perhaps expecting an explanation, but I didn't want to get into it. For three long years, I had to endure every week the constant arguments and pressure, and last year it had come to a boiling point; Dad had almost given me an ultimatum. But, I had reached my limit. I had been ready to snap. Everybody has a limit, and they should have realized it long time ago. I had come too close to cutting loose! But, filial piety wasn't something I could turn my back on--easily. Unfortunately, what they hadn't realized was, it had been a choice between self preservation and respecting their wishes. The work had been the only thing driving me, and if I had given that up... So, I had done the next best thing; I had given them the cold shoulder, ignoring them. How could I explain what I had felt at the time? If something happened, if it was in the cards, yes, I might have gotten killed, but it had been a low probability, and still was a low probability. If I had left and came home, I would have died a slow death, piece by piece. Which one was worse? I knew I didn't have a death wish, and I had always been careful. I just had no interest in giving up the last thing that drove me... that kept me breathing one more day. How could I give up my work? And for what? For a little bit of risk? People still lived and worked there! _How can I explain that? How can I make them or Kathy understand? I can't! I can't even talk about it, because it would hurt them._ _I've never felt so abandoned in my life before, by the people who were supposed to support me._ _I wish... you could understand how lonely it had felt, Kathy..._ I didn't want to dwell on the thoughts, because I didn't want to feel resentment. I waited patiently while trying to calm myself. I didn't know if she saw something in my face or thought better of it, because she decided to continue with what she was saying. "After the talk with Dad, Mom realized if she insisted too much she might push you away. You never gave her the cold shoulder before. Before that, you usually got irritated, but tried to grin and bear it. And she realized it. She knows she's still overly protective and she can't help that. We both know how she's when it comes to her kids, but last year, you scared her." "I see. And now?" "She's kinda accepted the situation. Well, she knows you have a mind of your own and there's very little she can do about it. She's just worried about what could happen there. It's not the _work_, Mitch; it's the _place_." "Kathy, it's not that bad. You know me. I'm cautious. Nothing's going to happen," I replied with confidence, trying to reassure her. "You don't know that, Mitch. You can't kno--" "Kathy, don't. Please?" She gave a resigned sigh, but tightened her arms around me, letting me know how she felt. I rocked her, returning her hug, and whispering, "It will be all right, Sis. It will be all right." When she calmed down, she looked up and said, "Anyways, she might probe gently, but she won't grill you. On the other hand, she might grill me." "What are you going to do?" "I don't know, Mitch. I don't want to get her hopes up. If she thinks you're involved with a girl, she might think you'll leave that place. I know it's too early for that, and you're not ready to leave that place... are you?" "No, I'm not. In a way I enjoy the place, but especially the work. I really do enjoy my work, and you know there's been very little I enjoyed lately," I replied, encouraged by her response. "I think, I understand. You wouldn't enjoy doing something else, would you?" I shook my head. _I'm sorry, Sis. I should have given you more credit. Thank you. You don't know how much that meant._ Brushing my cheek, she said, "It's OK! I'll handle, Mom. I want her happy, but I'm not going to get her hopes up. She needs a bit of good news to get her spirits up." That reminded me what she had done years ago, about the school bullies. I couldn't respond; I had a lump forming at the back of my throat. I gave her a fierce hug, trying to make her understand how I felt. "It's all right, Mitch. You do your best, and hurry home," she whispered. I was still thinking of what she had said, about not getting Mom's hopes up. I wasn't ready yet, but maybe it was time to have a chat with her. I mulled it over, and even though I didn't know when I would feel ready, or how things would work out, I had to have a talk with, Mom. It felt right, in some inexplicable way. I didn't want Kathy caught between me and Mom. This was about me and I needed to deal with it. "Mitch, what are you thinking?" "I... I was thinking about, Mom. I'll have a talk with her, Kathy. It's been too long we had a talk. I think it's time." "Do you think that's a good idea?" "I don't know, but it seems the right thing to do." "Mitch, don't rush into it. You're her first born, and... Well, you know how mothers are, with their first born." She had a point there. Before I could say anything, she continued. "Let me probe first, while you're at the garage. I'll let you know how it went, and if you still want to, you can have a talk with her on Sunday." "Uh... OK, Sis. You know best." "Sisters always know best," she quipped. "They do _not_!" At that, we were laughing, the tension of the moment dissipating. Once we caught our breath, we decided we had wasted enough time already and went about starting on our respective agendas for the day. . . . . Back at my parent's place, we chatted for a short while, before I got busy with my car. After checking the oil and tire pressures, I checked the battery and found it weak. I had had the battery disconnected, since the car wasn't going to be used for almost a month, when I was away from home, working. _I should have put it on the charger yesterday._ Luckily, it wasn't as bad as I thought, and when I made the connections, I managed to start the car. I would know if it charged properly or if it was dying by the time I got to the garage. On the other hand, the engine was purring like a cat. It was time to hit the road and see how things went. The ride to the garage was uneventful. Because it was almost time for a major service, I decided to get it done instead of the minor service. I might do some miles this vacation and I wanted it in tip-top condition. A couple of hours later, it was ready and with a mechanic we took it out for a spin to see if there was anything else. During the short ride I remembered I would drive at a lower altitude--we were currently at 800 meters above sea level, and that made quite a bit of difference in regards to fuel and air mixture, despite the electronic controls--and the last time I was by the coastline I had little problems. I mentioned it to the mechanic, and he drove us back to the garage to make the necessary adjustments, while explaining what and how he was doing the adjustment, referring to the display screen of the electronic gizmo he attached to the exhaust pipe. He warned me I might have a bit higher rpms while the engine was idle, and I would do less miles per liter at our current altitude, especially driving in city traffic, but it would improve once I hit the lower altitudes. He assured me I would have a really smooth performance when I was driving long distances on the highways. Satisfied with the service, I paid. One of the guys got the car quickly vacuumed and washed, courtesy of the garage--since I was pretty regular there--while I had a cup of coffee with the owner. He asked why I always stayed around when the car was being serviced. I told him that most of the time the car was being serviced by a different mechanic, who might not be familiar with its history or problems. I also enjoyed watching and learning what they were doing and how they were doing it. He didn't take offense at my explanation, and suggested I should give him a call and make an appointment so that he could assign a particular mechanic. I had always dropped by without an appointment and sometimes I had to wait for a while, before they got to my car. The offer suited me. I got the impression the owner was trying to convince me they were doing a good job, and wanted to keep me as a regular, and valued customer. I hadn't had any problems with them and decided to take him up on his offer. I made a tentative appointment for two months later--on my next off-duty time--which I would confirm with him a few days prior to the actual date. During the ride back home, I was satisfied with what they had done and was looking forward to enjoying a good drive along the coastline. I arrived home long before tea time. Dad was taking his afternoon nap, and would be up shortly. Mom and Sis were in the kitchen. So, I pulled up a chair and joined them. I could see Mom was looking more relaxed, perhaps happy, and I got the feeling Sis had something to do with that. When Mom got busy preparing tea, Kathy and I exchanged a quick glance, and she confirmed my suspicions. When Mom joined us, she knew something was up, and she figured I knew that she knew. She didn't say anything, but her eyes were smiling. I asked her if she wanted me to help her with tonight's cooking. She got a bit emotional and replied she'd like that very much. I could see Kathy was getting teary eyed as well, so deciding to break the mood, I asked Mom when Dad was getting up. Mom stood up, saying she would check on him, leaving Kathy and me alone in the kitchen. I turned to Kathy, to ask how Mom was doing, but she beat me to it. "She's happy, Mitch. We talked a little bit, but she didn't even ask me for details. She saw the changes, and that was enough. She suspected you were getting involved with somebody and she figured it must have been something recent. She knows it's too early, but she's happy. Mostly because you seem to be doing better than before. Helping with the cooking was great touch, Bro. I couldn't have figured out something better than that." "What about that place, my work?" "We didn't talk about it and I got the feeling she knows it's too early. She might be everything, but she's realistic. As they say: 'There is a light at the end of the tunnel'." "Yeah. I guess there is, after all," I replied quietly. Putting her hand on top of mine, Kathy said, "It's going to be good, Mitch. I could feel it." I wished I was as sure as Kathy was, but I knew I had to start somewhere and thinking dark thoughts did not help. The rest of the afternoon and the evening were great. I still enjoyed cooking as much I did when I was younger, and Mom and I had a great time discussing spices and ingredients--talking about various recipes. She accused me of being heavy handed with spices, especially the basil, parsley, thyme and my favorite, oregano. I told her she used too much garlic and onions. The dinner was a cheerful event, helped along by my dad's dry humor, teasing Mom and me about our lack of skills in the kitchen-- coming from a person who couldn't boil water if his life depended on it, and we teased him back mercilessly. However, that wasn't true. He didn't know much about cooking, but he knew how to cook a mean Hungarian Goulash, as Kathy reminded us, coming to Dad's defense. For a while it was sons and mothers versus dads and daughters. Eventually it quieted down, as nobody wanted to eat cold food. After dinner, Dad asked what we wanted to watch, listing several movies on video. He was a movie buff, well, not exactly; he was a cinema historian, and knew a lot. I had developed a taste for movies early on, but as I reached my teenage years, it became apparent that I didn't share his love for certain genres; movies like the _Bicycle Thieves_ and many others. On the other hand, we both enjoyed the classics in various genres like musicals, comedies, a few westerns and war movies. And, he certainly didn't share my interest in what he called _Pop-Corn_ entertainment; the new Hollywood products filled to the brim with special effects or other gimmicks. He acknowledged the fact that new technologies were emerging in film making, and as such he welcomed the developments, but he maintained that movies were about telling a story, or about having a message, and in his own words, "As long as they are reasonable about it, technology is good, but movies aren't about the technology; the technology should help tell the story better." That was a point of discussion we never agreed, because I saw a place for pure, escapist entertainment, as well as the movies with a message, while he was unwilling to consider the first kind as anything but a real movie. In the end, we agreed to disagree on the subject. To tell the truth I wasn't inclined to get into a prolonged discussion on the subject, because he knew more than I did, and adding his knowledge in history, politics, languages, literature, and arts, he had a formidable arsenal at his disposal that he drew freely to make his point. I knew I was being stubborn on this issue, so he let it go at that, instead of trying to convince me. Perhaps, that might be one reason why I had chosen engineering, instead of following in his footsteps, not wanting to compete with him or live under his shadow, even though I shared a love of literature, and some of the arts, and to some extent history. On the other hand, my interests had always been in science and math, and technology, because I felt more comfortable with something that was tangible, whereas most of the arts, including the literature, had an abstract feel to it that I had some difficulties to deal with. As I thought about our differences, I caught Mom and Sis voice their votes. They wanted to watch _On the Town_, a musical. Dad and I wanted to watch _Casablanca_ even though everyone had seen both of the movies several times over the years. Well, since both of the ladies wanted the same movie, and the votes were divided half-half, the choice was going to be what they wanted. Dad and I shared a look, and he let out a harrumph, muttering "women," and resignedly selected _On the Town_. Just then, Kathy piped up, "I changed my mind. _Casablanca_," earning herself a quizzical look from Mom. Dad and I were happy with that choice, until I caught sight of Kathy. She had a small smile on her lips with a curious twinkle in her eyes. Remembering what _Casablanca_ was about, I got an uneasy feeling. Was Kathy figuring out more stuff, or did she just want to see how I would react to the movie? By voting for _Casablanca_, had I given her more hints? I knew when I watched a good movie I really got into it. When I was young, Mom used to comment how I immersed myself in a movie, and I knew I revealed more about myself than I was aware of. _Sorry, Kathy. No freebies for you tonight. It's too early and I'm not ready yet. Nice try, though. I'll give you that._ "Sorry, Dad. I changed my mind also. I vote for _On the Town_. Mom has the right idea." The situation changed, suddenly. The votes were still divided, equally, but now, it came to pulling rank among women and as such, it was Mom's choice. Dad, of course, didn't understand why I changed my mind, so he teased me trying to change my mind. "I thought you knew a good movie from an average movie, Son." I shrugged my shoulders and responded with, "I feel like a musical, Dad. Sorry." Mom, however, saw the looks Kathy was giving me, and caught on to the byplay between us. She realized a private war was going on. She just didn't know what it involved. What's more, she was suspicious, why Kathy would change her vote, agreeing with my choice, instead of trying to vote against me; especially if this was a private war. Kathy knew she had lost her chance, and when I gave her a smug smile, she shrugged it off. We both knew she was still ahead of me in this game, but I could see, she really didn't want to miss this opportunity. _So, you just wanted to watch me and see how I would react?_ That was good to know. If she was planning to see how I would react to the movie, she probably hadn't stumbled on everything, yet. It was a comforting thought, but as with all assumptions, it was dangerous. I knew I wasn't in the clear, yet. With Kathy, I never was, I thought ruefully. Mom was still paying attention and she saw Kathy's shrug. She knew something was definitely up. Looking at Kathy, I nodded in Mom's direction. When she peeked at Mom, she got a sharp stare that said, "What are you up to?" Kathy tried a "Who? Me?" but she couldn't pull it off. Mom seemed annoyed with her. _Way to go, Sis. You try too hard. Enjoy the hot water and good luck with Mom._ The rest of the night was uneventful. On the way back to Kathy's place, we both took our own cars. * * * * * CHAPTER - 13: A Bombshell Saturday morning, I woke up late. It felt good to be lazy for a change. There were no Saturdays or Sundays on a rig, although the morning reports were an hour later than weekdays, probably to give a psychological semblance of a weekend, or the Ops engineers wanted to have an extra hour of sleep. After a visit to the bathroom for morning ablutions, followed by a quick shower, I put on jeans and an t-shirt, and went to the kitchen. Kathy was sitting on the couch, dressed in her peignoir, her knees tucked underneath with the newspaper on her lap. The TV was on with the morning cartoons. Grabbing a cup of coffee, I joined her. After she finished browsing through the paper, she put it aside and cuddled up to me and we watched the cartoons for a while, enjoying each other's company. She was extremely quiet and I was starting to wonder if something was wrong with her. Sensing my anxiety, she said, "It's weekend laziness, Bro. I'm all right, I just missed watching the cartoons with you." "You know, I've never been inquisitive about your life and you know why, but don't you have a boyfriend or something? What do you do on weekends, or when you have some free time?" She laughed softly. "I'm lucky to have a brother like you. I know some of my friends had a lot of problems with their elder brothers." "I guess, but then those brothers didn't have a lot of problems with their sisters, did they?" I teased her. "You can exchange me for one of those girls if you want, but I'm keeping you as a brother." "I didn't mean it like that and don't change the subject. It's time for a little role reversal. I need a break." "You sure do, Bro. I haven't been easy on you. Well, let's see... There's a guy I've been going out for almost a year and a half. It's kind of long distance relationship. He works for a company that sells medical equipment and we met during one of his visits to the hospital. We try to see each other when he comes to town. He's not living so far away. About three hours by car. So, we still manage to get away, but you know how it is with med school. I still have almost one and a half years to go and the shifts at the Emergency ward are keeping me busy." "So, it's a serious relation?" "Yeah. But, he's waiting until I finish school. Well, I finished school, this is just specialization. But, you know how Mom is; first school, then marriage." "Wow! My sister is getting married... If he's waiting that long he must be well-trained," I quipped. "It's not like that at all, Bro," she retorted indignantly. "I hope so, Sis. I haven't been much of a brother. You need a strong hand," I said, goading her. "You rat! I'm not like that at all." "I dunno, Sis. You managed to whip me up pretty good on a regular basis." "Girls mature faster than boys, Bro. That's why." "I'm not sure about that. How old are you?" I asked, then quickly clarified my question with, "Mentally?" She laughed at my quip. "It depends. Anywhere between 15 and 40." "Must have come in handy all these years." "You betcha." "Tell me. How's he taking the long distance relation?" "He's patient." "He must be. Knowing you, I'm not surprised." I was enjoying pressing her buttons. "Give me a break, Mitch. I'm not like that at all," she replied hotly. Then softening her tone, she said, "Not all the time. I save that for you. But sometimes, I drive him crazy too, and he loves it." With an amused smile, she added, "In that respect, he's like you." "That's very presumptuous of you, Kathy. I never said I enjoyed being driven crazy. Especially by you," I replied with a pretentious tone. "I know. That's why you don't put up with my antics." Her eyes were dancing with mirth. "I give up," I said, raising my hands in surrender, then delivered a parting shot, "But, I hope he doesn't. Otherwise he'll not be able to survive you." "He doesn't need to survive. I keep him barely alive, to serve his Queen." "Shit, Sis. Show some mercy and throw him to the lions." "Lions wouldn't know what to do with him, but I do," she replied and colored slightly, realizing what she said. I knew she had had several boyfriends, and we rarely talked about that part of our lives. When we were young, we had teased each other, as we were curious, but as adults, we rarely talked about our private lives. Perhaps, because we had discovered sex, and learned something about it. "Does he make you happy, Kathy?" "Yes, he does. And I make him happy too. Does that satisfy your curiosity?" she replied without getting embarrassed. "Sis, I know you have a busy life. Med school, the hospital. They don't make for a very active social life. I worry about you, even though I know you can take care of yourself. I just want to know you are happy." "I'm happy. Since we have that out of the way, tell me, dear brother. Why can't I ask you the same questions?" "But Kathy, you have used up your quota of questions for the next ten years, whereas I'm still saving them up," I retorted with a haughty tone. "Oh, you! You're impossible." She was coming with an elbow, but I quickly gathered her in my arms, locking her securely in my embrace. She tried to break free, but then gave up and relaxed. If she were a cat, I would bet anything she would be purring at that moment. That was another side of Kathy I had missed. Whoever the guy was, he was getting a bundle of energy, but a loving bundle. If he treated her right, Kathy would make his life heaven and if he treated her wrong... Well, I didn't need to get involved, unless I wanted to put him out of his misery instead of letting him suffer at Kathy's hands. She wasn't really like that, but I enjoyed joking about what a witch she was. She didn't have a vicious bone in her, unless somebody sought to hurt her on purpose. She would ignore them, but if they continued, all bets were off. When we were young, I had seen how she had handled a few of the boys she broke up with. She had been to the point and very direct, cutting them loose, politely, without spite. One idiot had tried to get back at her, more than once. Well, let me just say he wished he had never set eyes on her and leave it at that. Kathy knew how to take care of herself. "Mitch, why didn't you hit on any of my friends when we were young? I know some brothers who tried." "I dunno, Sis. I was pretty shy and I was busy." "You were still around quite a bit, when some of them were visiting. You didn't even ask me about them," she insisted. "I don't know, Sis. Why are you asking? This isn't about Sarah, is it?" "Sarah was the most frequent visitor and you liked each other. You two were friendly, but I also remember a time when you did try to hide for a while when she was around." "I wasn't always with you two, Kathy. Most of the time I would be studying in my room and when I heard you practicing, I would take a break. I rarely came to your room to listen to her play and sing." "Why didn't you ask her out? Was it because she was a bit pudgy?" "No, Sis. I always thought she was good looking, even beautiful. I'm not even sure if I would call her pudgy... and there was more to her than that. I never thought she would go out with me. If I had known what I know now... Besides, she was your best friend and it could have gotten awkward. You shared a lot. I had my hands full with you, as I still do nowadays." Thinking back to those days, I remembered something else; a specific memory of Sarah and what I had really thought of her... _Not only that, Sis, but I had seen her. My first living, breathing girl. She wasn't just good looking, she was beautiful._ I was sixteen and Kathy and Sarah were fifteen at the time. Our parents were out, visiting friends. Kathy was home from boarding school for the weekend, and Sarah was visiting her for a practice session. I was with my sensei, doing my practices. That day, I was feeling tired and Sensei cut our lesson short, so I arrived home earlier than expected. I heard Kathy preparing something in the kitchen, and without even saying hello, I hurried to the toilet. My stomach was feeling a bit queasy. I wasn't sure if I would get sick, but I didn't want to take any chances. The door wasn't locked. If it had been, I wouldn't have seen the marvels I saw that day. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greeted me when I opened the door. Sarah was sitting on the cover of the toilet, with her jeans and panties on her ankles and knees spread wide apart. She was looking down, busy with her vagina. The fingers of one hand was holding the lips of her vagina open, while the other hand had something white, cylindrical, which she was trying to put inside her. Thanks to Playboy and several interesting books I was becoming familiar with the female anatomy. I had not had any hands on experience--so to speak, except working on myself(!) that is--but I knew something of the wonders awaiting me. I was also aware of the monthlies and some of the female products. After reading about the stuff, one day I gathered my courage and asked my sister to explain some of the female stuff. Although she teased me a little bit, she eventually told me about the birth control stuff, and other things like tampons and such. She wanted to be a doctor and she had a small collection of text books, which I borrowed from her and they came in handy--well, as handy as they could be considering the majority of the text wasn't written in any understandable terms. So, I knew Sarah was putting in a tampon and I realized she must be having her period, although I didn't see any blood when my eyes caught sight of the pink inner flesh. She had very little hair around her mons and vaginal lips, and it was pale blonde, which did little to hide anything from my view. At the sound of the door opening, she looked up, while her hands stayed where they were and our eyes met. I was frozen to the spot, waiting for a scream that never came. Sarah was frozen in the middle of a delicate operation and she didn't even attempt to hide her private parts. Our eyes locked to each other's but, being a horny sixteen year old, my eyes strayed to her privates for a brief moment and I sprang an instant woody. I was wearing my sweats and my lump was clearly visible. I started to get red in my face when Sarah noticed the bulge. When our eyes met again, she blushed and realizing I had forgotten my manners, I quickly turned my back and made my way out while mumbling, "Sorry. I didn't know the toilet was occupied," closing the door behind me. I had forgotten about my queasy stomach. That must have been the most embarrassing point in my young life and Sarah's too, but the most tantalizing experience as well. I had butterflies in my stomach until Sarah left, expecting Kathy to give me hell for what happened. I must have masturbated two or three times before bed time, and a few more times in bed, late at night, seeing the image of her flesh that had been burned into my brain. After the pictures in Playboy magazines, I had had my first peek at a girl. For more than a year, Sarah occupied my masturbation fantasies regularly. After that eventful day, I evaded her for several weeks, unable to bring myself to be in the same room with her or unable to look at her in the eye. How could I, knowing I was masturbating to her image? I was sure she would know what I was thinking or doing, when she looked at me. I was also expecting the axe to fall, especially from Kathy, but when nothing happened, I realized Sarah had not shared that incident with her. The embarrassment had eventually worn off, but I didn't want to spring a woody every time I saw her. Afterwards, we saw each other and interacted as we normally did, but we never mentioned the incident or strayed anywhere near it. It was as if it had never happened. I had always talked about her as a good looking girl. Even yesterday, I thought of her in those terms, mostly because she had been pudgy. But, that day, when I saw her half naked, I didn't see a pudgy girl. She didn't have thick legs or thighs, just ample hips with some baby fat and a bit of a tummy--a sexy tummy. I saw a beautiful girl. Since she was beautiful, I wondered why she would be interested in me. But, if she was just good looking, I could gather my courage to ask her out. The thing was, I never gathered my courage, even though I was interested in her for quite sometime. After that incident, the embarrassment of the situation stopped me from ever entertaining the notion of asking her out. Why would she go out with an impolite imbecile, who embarrassed her? Eventually, Sarah fell into the background noise, as I got ever busier with school, and martial arts, and friends of my own. _Talk about good memories! I hope she has forgotten that little incident._ I smiled unconsciously at the memory, still lost in the journey I was taking in the past. "Is there a plan for today, Kathy?" "I don't know. I rarely get the chance to be lazy. We could go out for shopping or something." "Yeah. We could do that. I need to check out what's new in the bookstores." "I'm not in the mood for that. Please?" she whined. "And what am I going to do during my vacation?" "I thought you would be spending time with Dana." "She's working and..." I found myself saying, before I caught myself. Kathy was back at her game, laughing quietly at how easily she had tricked me. "Come on, Kathy. Can't I relax here, with you?" "OK, Bro. Cease fire. I'll let you know when it's over," she said with a magnanimous tone. "Thank you. You're very kind, your _Haughtiness_," I replied, my tone dripping pure sarcasm. "I have some new books. Check them out. Otherwise, you can do your book shopping on Monday. We can watch TV and relax." "You also want breakfast served?" I teased her. "That would be nice, Mitch." She looked up expectantly. "Why don't you say, 'I want to be pampered'?" She laughed at that quip. "OK. I want to be _pampered_." So I was elected chef, once again, preparing breakfast. After that I had to do the dishes, something I didn't really like. But, Kathy was enjoying the break from her daily routine and I didn't have the heart even to ask her to help dry the stuff. She went to the bookshelf and selected a few books, bringing them to me, saying they were her latest acquisitions. I found a new Ludlum book and settled for a read. Kathy went for a shower. The rest of the day, we spent reading and listening to music. When we got tired of all that, we caught a movie or a cartoon on the TV. Since she wanted to be pampered, I prepared tea and some sandwiches around four o'clock, and served. After tea, I fell asleep on the couch. I guess in this relaxed atmosphere, all my tiredness was coming out. She woke me up two hours later and we got ready for the party at Sarah's. When I asked about the dress code, Kathy said, casual and sporty, thus jeans were OK. I put on jeans and an Oxford shirt. It was getting cold at night time, so I opted for a sporty tweed jacket, going for semi-formal attire. Kathy was dressed in comfortable, dark colored corduroy pants and a matching blouse. Her usually dark brown hair was shiny, and she still had lighter tones, bleached by sun on her summer vacation. A vest completed the look. She had the top few buttons of the blouse open with her necklace clearly visible. _She really likes her gift._ I checked the time. It was too early to go to the party, but Kathy said we needed to catch a quick bite at a hamburger joint and pick up some flowers. Seeing that I was wondering why we would be catching a bite, she told me that there would be snacks and appetizers, but she didn't want to drink on an empty stomach. I was pleased to see her being careful. I was reluctant to take the car, since we both would be drinking, but Kathy convinced me that she would have only one or two glasses of wine and would drive us back home, plus we were going to go to the florist and such. * * * * * By eight o'clock, I was driving to Sarah's place with Kathy giving me the directions. "By the way, Bro, the ceasefire is over," she announced, out of the blue. "And why is that, Kathy? Getting frisky?" She didn't reply, but when I insisted, she sighed and said, "OK, I'll be a good sport and give you a little bit of warning. I'm hoping you'll be distracted by Sarah. Happy?" "Thank you. You're most generous," I retorted. She ignored my remark and switched to something different. "I need to know something, Mitch. Do you mind if I warn her that you're out of circulation?" "I can handle it, but it's been a long time and you know her better than I do. And you were the one who planned and schemed to get me to this party. I think that might be best," I replied, good naturedly. "No problem. I just hope she takes the hint. You don't know this, but she's lost that little bit of self-consciousness she had had and became a very confident girl. She can get stubborn." "I'll have to deal with that when the time comes. Thanks for the heads up." As we arrived at Sarah's apartment block, Kathy described me the place. Sarah had a one bedroom flat, but it was big for a single person. Apart from a large living room and a small dining room, her flat had a medium sized kitchen, unlike Kathy's flat where the kitchen was part of the living room. When I asked how Sarah managed to afford it, Kathy told me, the apartment block was older, far from the city center, and priced accordingly. We took the elevator to Sarah's flat. On the way up, I put on my glasses (I used them infrequently, when reading), and checked my appearance on the wall mirror. I was planning to surprise Sarah. She hadn't seen me for several years, especially with a moustache and a beard. With the gray and white streak I had on my temples, and the addition of glasses, I looked much older than a mere 25 something. The whole effect gave an appearance of an early-to-mid 30s college instructor. When Kathy saw what I was doing, she chuckled. "You're a _rat_, Mitch. That's a nasty trick to pull on a girl you've known for so long." "Hey! I'm the one you were planning to set up for an encounter with a bombshell. Don't you forget that!" She shrugged, but I could see she was amused. "And you're not going to--" I started. She cut me off. "No, I won't warn her. This, I have to see," she finished with a soft giggle. When we arrived at the fifth floor, Kathy directed us to Sarah's flat and rang the bell. Kathy was standing in front of me to my left and she had the flowers. I was standing slightly to her right and behind her, with a bottle of Chardonnay (Kathy had mentioned both of them preferred white wine). The door opened, revealing a very striking young woman. Her hair was very pale blonde, almost white and was cut short to frame a beautiful face. She had a bit of make-up that accentuated her gray eyes and the contrast between her hair color and eyes was dramatic. The dark blue sweater was perhaps a size too small, but showed off her bust line perfectly, leaving nothing to the imagination. For a moment, I wondered if she was wearing any bra, since the material was thin enough and I couldn't see any bra straps, and I got a glimpse of bumps that looked to be her nipples. The stretch jeans and a wide belt completed Sarah's new look, showing off her legs and narrow waist. _This is no pudgy or good looking girl. Mom is right; this is definitely a blonde bombshell._ Having been warned, I was prepared for the new Sarah, but I have to admit, she was beyond my expectations. However, I took in her sight carefully, without showing any reaction. Sarah, on the other hand, saw Kathy, before directing her attention to me. I formed a quick and shy smile as strangers do when they meet the first time. Seeing an older person, she returned her gaze quickly back to Kathy, giving her a puzzled look, while saying, "Hi Kathy." Kathy returned Sarah's greeting, then half turned to me, but before she could say anything, I politely cut in. "So, you're Sarah," I said, assuming the tone and style of a stranger and Sarah nodded with a polite smile. Returning her smile, I added, "I've heard so much about you from Katherine." The use of Kathy's full name, our apparent age difference and my little speech created the image I wanted. Then I dropped the bombshell. Even Kathy was unprepared for what I was going to do. "Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm Katherine's new beau," I said, with a dramatic pause. Sarah's eyes widened, and I heard Kathy's sudden intake at my proclamation, but she caught herself in time. I knew Sarah was surprised, because she glanced at Kathy's direction, before turning her attention back to me. "Mitchell Tanner. Pleased to meet you," I said without hesitation. For a full two or three seconds, she didn't make the connection, and she was going to respond with her own introduction, when my name percolated through her surprise, and she exclaimed, "Mitchell!!!" "Yep. The one and only," I quipped, giving her a smile full of mischief. Kathy was grinning from ear to ear, and Sarah realized she had been taken for a good ride. She quickly turned on Kathy. "You witch. You didn't say anything about how much he had changed, and you let him pull that stunt on me? I thought you were my friend." Then turning to me, she said, "I should be angry with you. I would never have expected something like that. Not from that shy and polite boy I used to know. My, but you've changed." Taking my glasses off and putting them in my jacket pocket, I gave her an appraising look, and said, "You haven't changed, Sarah. You're as beautiful as ever." Her eyes glittered at the compliment and she moved in for a hug and a kiss. Stepping back, she gave another appraising look. With a grin, she asked, "Since I can't get angry with you, I think I'll take it out on your sister. Do you mind?" "Be my guest." I grinned back. Turning back to Kathy, she said, "Your new beau, eh? Your old beau is coming later tonight. I'll let him know he's been replaced." Kathy perked up at that little bit of news and I cut into the conversation. "Kathy, are you seeing others besides me? You've got some explaining to do," with a serious tone. "Get in the queue, Mitchell. She's mine first. When I'm finished with her, you'll get the remains," Sarah retorted, laughing. I expected Kathy to fight back, but she seemed preoccupied with the news of her boyfriend. When she looked up, I gave her a knowing snicker, but she returned it with an unabashed smile and shrugged her shoulders. She knew what I was thinking. Her boyfriend would keep her occupied, and distracted, and I wouldn't have to watch my back all the time. Sarah grabbed Kathy by the arm and invited us in. She took the wine bottle and the flowers, and directed us to the living room, where she made the introductions to several of her friends. I knew some of the faces, so we exchanged quick greetings, and I could see some raised eyebrows, surprised at my older look. I noticed Sarah was pulling Kathy to the kitchen, and I was pretty sure Kathy was going to get a bit of heat for her part in the stunt I pulled, or she was going to wear Kathy's ear off with questions about me. Either way, Kathy was in for some heavy weather. I smiled internally at the thought. She deserved it, what with paybacks and all that. I chatted for a few minutes, before somebody mentioned there was some food and drinks in the dining room. Excusing myself, I went to the dining room. Sarah had set up a small buffet on one table, with some snacks, starters and bowls of salad, and various alcoholic and non- alcoholic drinks. I got myself a glass of wine, then headed to the kitchen, wondering if Kathy was still alive. I had given enough time to them to let them talk over whatever private stuff they might want to talk about. It was time to see what was going on. When I entered the kitchen the two were laughing over something. Sarah asked me to open the Chardonnay we brought and I filled two glasses for the girls and distributed the drinks. Now that Sarah was finished with Kathy, she turned her attention to me. With a mischievous smile, she said, "Your sister told me you were busy. I didn't know clowns had so much work." "Well, Sarah, it's like this: not only do we work the circus, but we also do house calls and parties. So, yeah. There's a lot of work to go around. The unfortunate part is we don't get recognized as other entertainers. I heard there was a new singer coming tonight for a private preview and the tickets were hard to get. I had to beg Kathy to find some tickets for tonight's show," I returned. "Really?" she responded, getting my drift, but she didn't know I was setting her up again. "Really. According to the critics, she's got the looks, but... her voice leaves a lot to be desired. But we both know looks are everything in the entertainment business, right?" I said. She stared at me with her mouth open, astounded at my outrageous description of her and how I managed to pull it off without blinking an eye. I raised my glass, then took a sip from my wine, enjoying myself immensely. Collecting herself, she came back with, "Yeah, I heard the same. I know her pretty well." Moving in closer, she brushed her hand over my arm, then leaned closer and said, "If you're interested, I can arrange a private audition with her. You might like her. She's much nicer up close and personal." Taking a sip from her wine, she gave me a flirty look, her eyes filled with mischief. "Well... I would love to, but I'm not sure my girlfriend would understand." "Ahh, that's a pity, Mitch. I heard that she's a fun girl and her auditions are always full of fun. You would be missing a great opportunity. But, if your girl friend isn't open minded, she might have a different view." She was still smiling and flirty, but there was definitely a promise of serious adult fun in her delivery. I smiled back, but my eyes were questioning. She gave a small nod followed with a quick squeeze on my arm, confirming my suspicions, before taking her hand off my arm. Disengaging from me, she said, "I better check on the guests." I was surprised by Sarah's actions and realized she was serious about her invitation. "What are you doing, Mitchell?" Kathy asked. "Huh?" "Are you trying to get into her pants?" she insisted. "Come on, Kathy. You've heard the exchange. I was just joking and she managed to turn it into an invitation, if I didn't misunderstand her. Didn't you tell her I was out of the circulation?" "I did, but she said you were old enough to make your own decisions. I don't know what got into her. You didn't help either. Didn't you realize what you were doing?" "What was I doing?" "You were being charming." "Kathy, stop and listen to what you're saying. I just made a few quips and I was having fun, joking with her. What did you expect me to do? Stand here like a shy fifteen year old boy and act tongue tied and clumsy?" At that, Kathy chuckled and gave me an embarrassed smile. "Sorry, Bro. You're right. For a moment, I got worried about what might happen to Sarah or to your relation with Dana. I have to warn you though. I don't know why, but she's set her eyes on you and she's horny." "Horny?" "Oh, yes. I know her pretty well. I know how she gets and acts. You think she's flirty, but I saw her nostrils flare and the slight flush on her skin, as she was flirting with you. Haven't you seen how wide her eyes were?" When I didn't comment, Kathy laughed. "Don't tell me you didn't notice her tits. She's not wearing a bra and her nipples were hard." "Jeeez, Kathy! I'm not a virgin boy! I don't have to resort to a strip search to see if I could score with a woman, when I want to score," I replied, irritated with the way she was talking to me. I didn't understand why Kathy was acting the way she was. Patronizing, and almost jealous and bitchy. First, she accused me of being charming and now, she was treating me as if I was a virgin teenager. She never talked about girls the way she did. Why would she talk about Sarah, her best friend, like that? I took a careful look at her, trying to understand what was wrong with her. _Oh, man! Sarah was horny? Forget about Sarah. Kathy was on fire._ I thought about what she said and how she said it. She was frustrated. Her boyfriend was coming and I guess she missed him. I wondered if my presence in her house was cramping her love life. Perhaps, she didn't feel comfortable having her boyfriend at her place when I was there. "Kathy, I could spend the night in a hotel," I said, gently. "What?" "Sis, I don't want to cramp your life." This time, she got what I was trying to tell her and she colored slightly. Composing herself, she asked, "Was I being bitchy?" "Something like that," I replied, smiling. "You live a busy and stressful life, Kathy, and you told me you love him. You need to relax, as anybody else. It's no big deal for me to get a room in a hotel." She gave a soft sigh, then said, "You don't have to do that, Bro." "Kathy, I'm not only thinking of you. I'm trying to protect myself," I replied, with a teasing tone. That got me a laugh, as I intended. She said, "The night is still young. We'll see how it goes. I didn't know Mark was coming. If he didn't mention it to me, usually it means he might not make it. I just didn't realize I missed him. But, I missed you too." "Well, thanks, but I don't think I can relax you like he does. Come on, let's see what Sarah is up to," I said. We made our way back to the living room. A few more people arrived while we were talking together. There were one or two of the sharks, and at first, they didn't recognize me, for which I was glad. Unfortunately my relief was short lived, as they eventually worked out who I was. As the siege got underway, I made a quick escape to the dining room with the excuse to get a re-fill. Kathy realized what I was doing, but she was caught up in a conversation and was unable to come to my aid. I filled up my glass and was busy filling up a small plate with snacks. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw the two girls converge on me. Although they couldn't really engage me in a conversation, while I was attempting to eat, they would stick to me like flies. I tried to work out my options, but my thoughts were interrupted by a cheerful, "There you are!" When I turned around, I saw Sarah coming our way. "I need your help with something in the kitchen, Mitchell," she said. Before the two other girls could say something, I said, "At your service, Sarah." With my plate and glass in my hands, I walked to her, giving a curt nod and a polite greeting to the two sharks, as I passed them. I followed Sarah to the kitchen. She put her glass on the small table and taking my glass and plate from my hands, put them next to her glass. Pointing me to the shelf with various packages of tea and coffee, she asked me to get the coffee. It was pretty high for her to reach easily, even though she was quite tall at 5'8", but to my 5'11" she was shorter. I didn't understand why she didn't step on a chair to get it herself, however she had saved me from the two sharks, so I was glad to help her with the simple task. When I gave her the package, she asked me to take a seat. I pulled one of the chairs and sat by the side of the table, watching her prepare coffee. Once the percolator was running, she came to me and, without hesitation, sat on my lap, sideways, with her back to the table, taking me by surprise. After settling her butt comfortably and giving me the beginnings of a hard-on with her efforts, she turned to face me. Putting her hands around my neck, she said, "Tonight, I'm your escort, or rather, your protection." "Protection from what, Sarah?" I asked with a small laugh. "Kathy said you called them sharks," she replied with an amused smile. "Oh! So, she put you up to the task?" "I volunteered. After all, you're my best friend's brother," she replied, flirting. Moving closer, she brushed her cheek against mine. I felt her soft breath washing over my neck. She gave a wet lick with her tongue and nipped my earlobe, making me shiver. "And, who is going to protect me from you?" I teased. She pressed her tits against my chest and moved her hips, her butt stimulating my semi-hard cock. I knew she could feel my hardness. "Mmmm... This feels nice. You know, you owe me," She said. "Owe you? For protecting me or taking advantage of me?" I replied with an amused tone. "I won't take advantage of you and the protection is free," she replied throatily. "So, what do I owe you? I should charge you for parking," I retorted. Pulling back, she gave me a look filled with mirth. When she had my attention, she said, "I showed you mine, but I never got to see yours." She moved her ass, rubbing my hard-on to make her point. _Damn!!! She remembers that incident. After all these years..._ Seeing the realization on my face, she nodded her head. "Do you think that's fair?" she asked, flirting. "I was hoping you would have forgotten that accidental encounter. You know, it was an accident." "I know. I also knew I gave you an eyeful. Tell me Mitchell, why did you hide away, for several weeks, after that incident?" "I liked you, and I always thought you were beautiful. I was embarrassed and I couldn't bring myself to look at you. I didn't want to spring a woody every time I looked at you, because I remembered what I had seen. That can be pretty embarrassing for a shy sixteen year old." "I guess. So, how many times did you have to masturbate?" she asked with a knowing grin. "You don't want to know," I replied, laughing. "That many, eh?" she said with a snicker. "Well, I don't know how many times I masturbated that night, but I remember I rubbed my little button raw. You had the lead role in my fantasies for more than a year." "You weren't embarrassed?" "I was, when it happened, but I also caught sight of your lump. I was a horny little thing. Girls mature earlier. I liked you very much, and I fantasized a lot. As shy as you were, I was self- conscious about my looks. I hoped you would ask me out one day, but it never happened and I thought maybe you didn't think I was pretty, so I never tried." "Sarah, I was really shy at the time. I always thought you were beautiful. I even tried to convince myself you were just good looking, trying to label you as pudgy. It worked for a while, but I knew you were beautiful. I just couldn't get my courage up to ask you out." "I was _pudgy_. Did you really think I was beautiful?" "Yes I did. And when I saw you half naked that day, I knew I was looking at a beautiful girl. You had a bit of a tummy, but I thought it made you look sexy. You had some baby fat, but that didn't take anything from your beauty. I always enjoyed your company and you know I didn't date any girls." She smiled fondly at my reply, then said, "Kathy told me you're out of circulation. It must be a recent thing, since she hadn't said anything when I had asked about you." "Yes, it's recent." "Look, Mitch. I'm not going to try anything. Not after learning you're involved with somebody. I hope you trust me when I say I wouldn't come between you and your girl friend. We've known each other for many years, and I'm still your sister's best friend. If I did something like that, Kathy would have my hide. We're too good friends for something like that. OK?" she said with a serious tone. "I hear a 'but' coming," I said, softly. She smiled. "But, I was hoping for an opportunity to live out my teenage fantasy. I liked you as a teenager and lusted after you. I still lust after you, but that's got nothing to do with love. I was wondering if you'd like to live out an experience with the object of your teenage masturbation fantasies." Giving me an embarrassed look, she continued, "I... I don't do this kind of thing, Mitch. I don't try to steal another woman's man. It's just... we've been friends for a long time, and I hope you don't take my proposition the wrong way." When I nodded my understanding, she continued, "I don't want your answer now, Mitch. I'm enjoying flirting with you very much and I get the feeling you enjoy it as well. Why don't we continue? At the end of the night, if you want to, you can spend the night here. No strings attached. We're both adults and know there's nothing wrong with some recreational fun. That's all I'm asking. I'm not looking for love or commitment. Just some fun time." The look in her eyes was without any disguise and I could see she was horny. Her lust was palpable, coming in waves. She gave me a kiss--passionate, lustful, much different then what I had with Dana. She was really having an effect on me and I wanted her. I wasn't sure if I would be cheating on Dana, and was feeling a bit of guilt for wanting Sarah. Her talk about our teenage years reminded me all the fantasies I had had about her when I was young. I had lusted after her for a long time, but I had never given an inkling of what I thought to her. Her offer was very attractive and I found it difficult to put it aside without due consideration. I guess my childhood attraction had been pretty strong. I suspected she mentioned the past on purpose, which made sense, considering we both confessed to teenage lust. Also, I had been too long without female company. I didn't have much female company in the last several years. I hadn't felt like getting physical with any woman, after I had my heart broken--after _her_. The few occasions wouldn't have happened, if I hadn't been feeling lonely, horny, and the girls hadn't been interested as well. Even then, I hadn't gone to bed with just anybody. After her, 'just-sex' wasn't something that appealed. I had too much emptiness. Dana had been right when we talked about my past, and how she determined the true nature of what I called casual sex. The few times I had tried purely physical relations had been more than enough to convince me. I needed and wanted some kind of emotional connection with the physical side. 'Just-sex' reminded me of the emptiness more than the times I went without any sex. I decided to give it a bit of time and see what would develop. I wanted to think about my relationship with Dana. If I took Sarah up on her offer, would I be cheating on Dana? At the back of my mind, however, I knew if I was thinking about cheating or not cheating, I had already made up my mind. I was just trying to find a way to take Sarah up on her offer and not feel guilty about doing it. Getting off my lap, she stood up and pulled me to my feet. "Come on, let's join the others." Giving me a lustful look, she added, "I'll keep you safe." "Riiightt," I retorted with a snort. While she was picking our glasses, I discreetly arranged my hard- on, but she caught me and licked her lips lasciviously. To take my mind off the effect she was having on me I took a bite from my plate, but decided I wasn't hungry, and left the plate on the table. Giving me my glass, she hooked her arm in mine and I let her steer us to the living room. She directed us to a love seat and after I sat down, she sat on my lap, as she had done in the kitchen. "This is just to mark my territory, so they leave you alone, but we have to put on a good show," she said, before locking her lips to mine. We shared a hot and wet kiss, with lots of tongue action. After she checked out my tonsils, we broke the kiss. Moving her ass, she felt my hardness. "Mmmm. I think I better keep it warm. I may not get another chance. Do you mind?" she asked. "It's hard to mind, Sarah." "I can feel how hard it is," she replied, with a teasing smile. I caught Kathy watching us and she gave me a quizzical look. When I gave her a small shrug, Sarah felt it and asked, "Kathy?" "Yep. Sarah, is her boyfriend coming?" "Yes. I got a call about two hours ago. He was calling from a gas station and was on the way here. Why?" "Kathy said she didn't know he would be coming and she's still not sure if he'll show up. I think she missed him a lot and is a bit frustrated. I don't want her to get annoyed with you, because you're flirting with her brother. You two are too good friends for something like that." "Oh! I didn't tell her that he was on the way. I wanted to see her squirm after that little stunt she let you pull. I'd better get her calmed down. Don't go anywhere," she said, before getting off my lap to talk with Kathy. I turned my attention to the other guests, my eyes sweeping the room. To my disconcert I saw the mousy brunette--Lizzie or something--the most brazen of the sharks, eyeing me. As soon as we made eye contact, she smiled and started in my direction. I was pretty sure she had seen the show Sarah and I had put on, and I suspected she was going to ignore it. I wondered how far she would go in her attempts. I was hoping she wouldn't risk offending Sarah. "Hi, Mitchell. How are you?" "Fine. How are you?" I replied politely. "I'm fine," she replied and made a move to sit on my lap, as if it was an everyday occurrence. I told you she was brazen. "Sorry, that seat is reserved and I know she would mind if somebody else used it," I said quickly. That stopped her on her tracks, but she wasn't going to give it up so easily. "Oh! I didn't know you were involved with somebody. Who's the lucky girl?" she asked, as if she hadn't seen the show we put on a few minutes ago. I didn't care for her brazen ways. Although I was polite with people, this time I felt like teaching her a lesson. So I called her theatrics. "We've never known each other well enough for you to get intimate with me or sit on my lap. I don't know what gave you the idea. Unless, you saw the owner vacate that very spot." She colored slightly at that, before coming back with, "You mean, Sarah? I know you were childhood friends, so I didn't give it a second thought." I decided to let her off the hook, before it got nasty. I had exacted a little measure of satisfaction, after all. "Yes, among other things, we've been childhood friends as well," I replied with an even tone. "So, how long has it been?" she asked. She just didn't know when to quit. "Is that pertinent... to something?" I asked, pointedly. "I was just making conversation. Sarah is a good friend, but she didn't mention anything." She was implying a close friendship with Sarah, but we both knew they were not close friends, not like Kathy. I also suspected she was questioning if I was really involved with Sarah. I haven't exactly lied, carefully evading the question, while nudging her to draw the wrong conclusion, so I was a bit pissed off at what she was implying, almost calling me a liar. I tried to calm myself, before responding to her. "Well, I know Kathy is a very close friend of Sarah, but I didn't hear any other names mentioned," I replied, offering her an exit, while returning the favor--implying she lied about the degree of her friendship. "Maybe she forgot to mention," she came back, her eyes flashing with irritation. From the way she said it, I knew she was going to get nasty instead of making her exit. She started with, "I'm pretty sure, she wouldn't mind if--" while making a move to sit on my lap. I quickly stood up and cut off her tirade. "Contrary to what you might think, I can't allow myself to be the cause of something that will end your close friendship with Sarah." She knew she had lost the round, but she was a spiteful bitch. "I didn't figure you for a wimp. Are you that much pussy whipped?" I wasn't going to reply to her, because I didn't know if she would make a scene; a slap or throwing her drink. But, she had crossed the line, with her verbal abuse. A quick glance revealed her glass was almost empty, so I decided to take the risk. "Oh, I never said I wasn't a wimp. I gather you don't like wimps. What can I say, my loss," I said, giving her a shrug. She wasn't expecting that response and I caught her unaware, as I hoped I would--setting her up for my parting shot. As I turned to make my exit, I delivered my parting shot. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get pussy whipped, by a _real_ woman." And, with that, I quickly walked away, before she could react. My plan worked like a charm. As I walked away, I could feel her eyes trying to bore holes on my back. I headed for the dining room, but saw Kathy and Sarah standing at the kitchen door, smiling, so changing my direction, I went to them. From their looks they had seen what happened and they wanted to hear the details. "What did you say to Lizzie, Bro? If looks could kill, I would be attending your funeral right now." "She was getting brazen, so I put her down. That's all." Addressing Sarah, I teased, "I thought you promised protection." "From the looks of it, you're doing just fine, Mitch," she laughed. "Easy for you to say. I was sweating bullets there," I joked, but I was still apprehensive, because I didn't know if Lizzie would let it go. Some women could get vicious. Seeing me concerned, Sarah put me at ease. "Don't worry, Mitch. Lizzie can be brazen and nasty, but she wouldn't create a scene that would tarnish her image. She doesn't like being gossip fodder." Moving in, she plastered herself to my body. "Besides, I'll keep you company. I enjoyed my seat." I stole a look at Kathy to see how she was taking the developments, but she didn't seem to be bothered by Sarah's attentions or my reaction to her. I guessed Sarah must have calmed her down. We heard the door bell ring. "Kathy, can you get the door?" Sarah asked. When Kathy left us, she disengaged and hooked her arm in mine. She took us back to the living room. "I think that's Mark, Kathy's boyfriend," she said with a conspiratorial tone. She steered us to a spot with a view of the hall and the door, where we could see who had arrived. I saw Kathy wrapped in the arms of a tall guy with dark brown hair, sharing a long, hot kiss. Kathy was hanging on his neck, her body plastered to his, writhing in his arms. They surfaced from the kiss panting, but too worked up to quit. As I expected, they went at it again, but this time with soft, tender, short kisses, trying to cool off. "They look hot, don't you think?" Sarah said. When I looked at her, I could see she was worked up by the scene. Just like Kathy had described, her nostrils were flaring with each breath, her face was flushed, and her nipples were prominent under the thin sweater. Seeing me giving her an appraising look, she said, "I told you I was a horny thing and I haven't changed much." "If they've got you this much worked up..." "Your sister is a hot woman, too, don't you think?" she responded with a lecherous grin. "Thank you for the reminder, Sarah," I retorted, feeling uncomfortable. "I could have done without it. I know she's a woman and she's beautiful. But, I rather don't think about something like that. Especially how hot my sister is. I'm still her brother." She laughed at my discomfort. "You know, the two of you are unusual siblings. You're very close, without being possessive. She's lucky to have a brother like you." "Well, she might be, but I'm not sure I would say the same thing about her," I replied with a snort. "She drives you up the walls, doesn't she?" "That, she does. So, tell me. What's her guy like?" "Being brotherly?" she asked with a laugh. When I nodded, she said, "I think you'll like him. He's quiet, has a good sense of humor, and he's crazy about Kathy. Well, both of them are crazy about each other. I'm surprised they haven't gotten married, yet. By the way, don't be surprised to see a different Kathy." "What do you mean?" "Oh, you'll see. She's different when Mark's around. She becomes a little kitten." "Really? So she's saving her claws for me? Now, I'm jealous!" "Don't be. Kathy drives him up the walls, too, just not so frequently. You know she has a sharp mind. Mark's no slouch either and he's patient. They're a pair, I tell you." "Thank you, Sarah," I responded with a soft but genuine tone of gratitude. "For what?" she asked, perhaps a bit surprised at my tone. "For telling me all that. You're her best friend, and know her well. I haven't been around lately, and I never nosed into her life. But, I worry about her happiness." "Ah, Mitch. I love her like a sister. She's happy. They're happy. Don't worry about her. Come, they're finished getting acquainted." Putting his arm around Kathy's shoulder, Mark guided them into the living room, while Sarah steered us to them. Kathy made the introductions. He was slightly taller than me, about an inch or so, with a good build and wide shoulders. He had a firm hand shake, a friendly smile, and a calm, confident countenance. Even though some first encounters would feel awkward, especially when they involved boyfriends or girlfriends of siblings, I warmed to him immediately. He was older than me, but I looked older than him and Kathy made a few quips about how hard she had been on me, causing premature aging. Then, she asked him if he was still willing to take the risk and marry her, knowing what might happen to him. He smoothly replied, he had no problems about aging, as long as she was willing to join him until they both got wrinkles, then he burned her with a soft kiss. He seemed to be the genuine article, and I found myself liking the guy more and more, by the way he treated Kathy, and how Kathy responded to him. I also knew Kathy didn't give her heart easily, and I was confident that I could like any man who passed her muster. "Get a room, guys," Sarah quipped. Kathy came back with, "Thank you, Sarah. You're such a good friend. Where's your bedroom?" making everybody laugh. Sarah was right, Kathy was acting different. Mark and I went to pick up drinks for the girls, getting acquainted with each other, then we mingled. Sarah made her rounds among the guests but she kept her forays short, trying to keep me company as much as possible. The party was going strong, small groups forming and breaking, but there was an air of expectancy among the guests-- Sarah's recital. She must have felt it also, because when she joined Kathy, Mark and me, she said, "I think it's time to liven up this party." "OK. We'll get things going while you get your guitar," Kathy offered. While Sarah went to pick up her guitar, Kathy recruited our help in informing the guests that the recital would be starting shortly. * * * * * CHAPTER - 14: Fair Play Sarah came back with her guitar and pulled up a chair, facing the guests. I moved to a spot facing her and sat on the floor, crossing my legs. One by one, the guests found seats, some on the carpeted floor like me, and some on the chairs and couches. Mark was on a couch, with Kathy on his lap cuddling with him. She had her arm around his neck, her head resting on his shoulder. She really looked like a little cat; her 5'7" frame a warm and loving bundle in Mark's protective embrace. He was gently caressing her back as they exchanged loving looks, lost in their own world. It was apparent that both of them had missed each other and both looked happy and content. _Good for you, Sis._ After tuning the strings, Sarah was ready. She gave a small smile to me and started singing. Man, was she good! I had forgotten how pure her voice was. I wasn't the only one feeling like that. For half an hour, she enthralled everybody with the clarity of her voice and her handling of the guitar, before taking a short break. Even though the guests were all friends and acquaintances, the applause and cheering were genuine. Once again, I couldn't help but wonder why she never turned professional. During the break, I asked her about it. "I owe your sister big time, Mitch. My parents tried to tell me, but I wouldn't listen. Kathy, however, convinced me to continue my studies. I was too young. If I had turned professional at the time, I would have botched it up. Now, I really enjoy med school and I want to finish it first. After that I might reconsider, maybe as a part-time thing. I really want to be a doctor. Music is fun, but I'm not sure if it would continue to be fun if I turned professional," she said. After the break, she did the last part of her recital. The songs were a collection of various genres: ballads, country, pop, rock- -from various singers and bands like Joan Baez, Anne Murray, John Denver, Kenny Rogers, Randy Crawford, Neil Young, Leonard Cohen, Scorpions, and many others. While Sarah was singing _Almaz_, an old song from Randy Crawford, I noticed she was keeping her eyes on Mark and Kathy. She had a look of adoration in her eyes. Curious, I turned to see what was going on. I saw Mark brushing tears from Kathy's eyes, and kiss her forehead and top of her head a few times. For a moment I wondered what was wrong, before I realized Kathy was just being emotional. When the song was ending, Kathy raised her head and they shared a long, sensual kiss. After Kathy, it was my turn, but I didn't know it. Towards the end of her recital, Sarah sang _Lady in Red_, the only Chris de Burgh song in her repertoire. I was lost in her voice, feeling very relaxed. When she started singing that piece, I couldn't resist the pull of the memories and instead of fighting them, I let them take me on a short journey. It wasn't an uneasy experience, as it had been a year ago with Pops at the rig. This time, it was a remembrance of happier moments. But, melancholy and longing were still mixed with it. Sarah sang a couple more songs before ending her recital, and I went to the dining room in search of something strong. I had enjoyed the recital, but I wanted to get a bit of a buzz. Locating a bottle of vodka, I filled up a glass mixing it with orange juice. Then I went to the kitchen to get some ice. Sarah found me in the kitchen busy filling the empty ice maker. I returned the ice maker to the freezer and stirred the ice cubes in my glass before taking a sip. It was strong, but that was what I needed after the short trip down memory lane. "You know, I forgot to ask what your favorite song was, before the recital," she said. When my eyes returned to her face from the glass of vodka, I saw her eyes were searching my face. "Sarah, it was great. I enjoyed your selection. But more than that, I enjoyed your singing." "Why were you--" she stopped, as if changing her mind at the last minute, and switched to something else. "You saw Kathy and Mark, when I was singing _Almaz_?" She had a quizzical look in her eyes and I wondered what she was planning to ask. "Sarah, what was it you wanted to know?" "Nothing," she replied, quickly. "You saw Kathy and Mark..." "Yeah, I saw them." I was still wondering what was running in her mind, what she had been planning to ask. "Sarah, I can see you have something in your mind, and I got the feeling you wanted to ask something. Are we not friends?" With a resigned sigh, she said, "It's... I just thought you reacted to one of the songs, but I wasn't sure if you liked it or hated it." "I told you I loved your selection, Sarah," I replied, with a reassuring smile. "I didn't want to pry," she said. Her voice was soft, but colored with something I couldn't identify. She reached and caressed my cheek, making me close my eyes, and give in to her gentle touch. I opened my eyes, and took hold of her hand, kissing her palm, getting a fond smile. "Was it their song?" I asked. "Kathy's favorite, but Mark loves it also. Sometimes, your sister can get pretty emotional," she answered with an emotional timber in her voice. "Yeah, I noticed. Mark seems to take good care of her." Her face lit up with joy, and she said, "Yes, he does." It was easy to see she was happy for Kathy, reminding me how close they were. Moving in, she pulled me for a kiss, rubbing her body to mine. "Mitch, may I..." she started, but collecting herself she stopped herself before asking what she wanted to ask. I raised an eyebrow, questioning. She hesitantly asked, "May I take care of you, tonight?" She was having an effect on me, and I had not forgotten her earlier remarks. I still remembered how I had lusted after her when I was young. Grown up, she was really something. I was starting something (perhaps a relationship) with Dana, and I loved her, but I found myself lusting after Sarah. I was hungry for the physical contact as much as love. What's more, I didn't want to be bothered by the past. Not tonight. I wanted to free myself from the melancholy that I felt a while ago. I examined my feelings. I wanted Sarah. It was going to be casual. No different than other times with other girls, although I had known Sarah much longer. But Dana bothered me. I wasn't in a committed relationship with her, yet, but we were planning to get to know each other. Was it wrong to have some fun with Sarah? Was it cheating? Sarah broke in to my thoughts. "You know, Kathy wants to take Mark to her place. Mark could take her to a hotel, but Kathy doesn't care for hotel rooms." "So, you're suggesting, I should spend the night here? To help them out?" I asked, with a chuckle. "What a swell idea," Sarah responded with a smile, but it was a measured smile, as if she was scared of going too far. "You're _wicked_, you know that," I said, with a smile. "I'm not wicked. I'm practical and horny. And I'm trying to help out," she responded. I could feel her lust, and she was trying to keep herself under control. "You mean, help yourself?" I laughed, trying to put her at ease. Seeing me laugh, she relaxed considerably, and retorted, "Well, it's not only me. I'm helping out you, Kathy and Mark as well." Working her hand down to my crotch, rubbing my cock, she pulled me down for a kiss. I found myself responding to her attentions, kissing her back and rubbing my free hand on her side, massaging the outer swell of her tit. I was hard under her expert ministrations, and made up my mind. I liked her and lusted after her as a teenage boy. I was curious how she looked under her clothes. I wanted to know how her body would feel under mine. As she had said, here was a chance to live out a teenage fantasy. When the kiss was over, I said, "You know, I'm a great believer in fair play." When she heard that, her nostrils flared, and for a moment I thought she was going to have a go at me right there in the kitchen. She was steaming. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself, then gave me a short kiss, her hand still busy rubbing my cock, over my jeans. Pulling back, she took my glass and put it aside. "I don't want you drunk, Mitch. I never thought I would get the chance to live out my fantasies, and I don't want to miss out. Do you mind?" Pulling her in, I pressed her body to my chest, trying to feel her tits. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Sarah. I've lusted after you for a long time, too." "Good. I hope I can hold out until the party is over." "You waited longer than that Sarah. How difficult will it be to wait a few hours?" "Very difficult, Mitch. It's always remained a fantasy. Now, it's a reality. God, I need to change. My panties are soaked," she replied, her breathing getting heavy. "Do you need a hand?" I teased her mercilessly. "In fact I do. I need to put in a tampon to keep my panties dry. You can help me with that. After all, you've seen how it's done," she retorted with a snort. "You sure it's only a tampon you have in mind?" "Yes, I'm sure. I want to save the other for later. It will be difficult but worth the wait." Putting my arm around her waist, I said, "OK, lead the way." "Lead the way?" she asked confused. "Well, I don't want you to soak your panties." "You serious?" she asked, surprised I would go ahead with what started as a teasing quip. "Sure, Sarah. We can even use the bathroom to enact the whole episode. Do you really need to change your panties?" "Oh, my God! I didn't, but now, I need to," she said, giggling like a school girl. "We better use your bedroom. It will be more comfortable and private." She led us through the living room to the short hallway. Her room was at the end of the corridor and there was a bathroom halfway. Before we passed the bathroom, the door opened and Kathy emerged. Seeing us headed in the direction of the bedroom, she gave a questioning look. "I need to give a hand to Sarah with something. We'll catch you in a few minutes," I replied. She almost bought my explanation, that is, until she caught sight of Sarah. Well, Kathy knew Sarah too well not to notice Sarah was on fire and we were up to something, and she didn't need a crystal ball to guess what that something might be. She raised her eyebrow, questioning, but I shook my head 'no, it's not what you think' manner. I didn't think she bought it, but she replied, "OK, I'll see you later." I caught her exchanging a brief look with Sarah, before she turned and headed for the living room. When we were inside Sarah's bedroom, she closed and locked the door. "What was that, Sarah?" I asked. "What was what?" "The brief exchange between you and Kathy." "It's nothing, Mitch." "Come on, Sarah." With resigned sigh, she moved in to caress my cheek, and put me at ease. Then she said, "Your sister loves both of us and she's trying to protect us. When I was talking with her, I told her about my teenage lust for you. She was concerned that I would get hurt, or that your current relationship might be affected. Mitch, I know you don't like it if Kathy interferes with your private life, but this isn't really interference. Please don't get angry with her, OK? She's a dear girl and she can't help herself sometimes. And you know she loves you very much. I don't have any siblings, but Kathy had been better than a sister. You know sisters are allowed a bit of latitude." "She has lots of latitude," I replied, with a resigned sigh. "Yes, you've given her lots of latitude, but she tries hard not to take advantage of that." I nodded. Then something else occurred to my mind. "I'm not going to be the subject of your girl-to-girl talks, am I?" I asked. "I'm generous with my grades, don't worry!" she teased. "I wonder why that doesn't reduce my performance anxiety," I retorted. "You think too much, Mitch. We'll have a great time. We lusted after each other too long. I don't think either of us is going to have any performance anxiety," she replied and pulled me in for a kiss. Disengaging, she went to her wardrobe and got a clean panty and a small towel from a drawer. Rummaging in her dresser drawer, she took a tampon, then spread the small towel on the edge of the bed. "It will be easier to put the tampon in if I lay down. I'm soaking wet and I don't want to leak on the comforter." I moved her close to the edge of the bed, and took off her belt. Then I started undoing the buttons on her jeans. I could feel her excitement. Her breath was coming fast, in short gasps, heavy with arousal. After unbuttoning the last button, I knelt in front of her and asked her to hold onto my shoulders for support, before gently grabbing her ankles to remove her shoes one by one. She had shapely feet, with dainty toes. Taking hold of the waistband of her jeans, I pulled them down, as slowly as possible, teasing us both. I could smell her womanly scent. When the jeans cleared the crotch of her panties, I saw they were translucent from the wetness. She wasn't kidding when she said she was soaked. Once the jeans were on her ankles, I helped her out of them, and put them to the side, next to her shoes. When my gaze returned to her center, I could hear her breath catch with expectation. Leaning forward, I inhaled her heady fragrance. Her inner thighs were wet with her seeping juices. Taking hold of her panties, I pulled them down with the same teasing slowness. I watched carefully the unveiling of her pussy. She had pale yellow pubic hair on top of her mons, neatly shaved in a triangle. Her clitoris was already out of its protective hood, and looked large. There was no hair to be seen around her vagina or the lips. I pulled the panties to her ankles and she stepped out of them. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, but I gently cupped her ass cheeks, stopping her from sitting on the towel. Moving my hands to her legs, I nudged her to spread her legs. Taking the towel, I wiped her juices from her thighs. Putting the clean side of the towel on the bed, I took a closer look at her vagina. Her labia were thin, but swollen. I traced the outside of the lips with my finger, feeling for any signs of stubble, but found them to be baby smooth. It was obvious that she had shaved recently. I didn't have to wonder if she was hoping to get lucky. I knew she was watching me, so I looked around as if searching for something, then looked up at her. "Looking for something?" she asked, her voice throaty, coming out as if she had difficulty talking. "Yeah. I don't think the tampon will help much. We need to get the excess juices. Do you have something like a... vacuum cleaner?" I asked with a serious expression. She was so gone, it took a moment for my question to sink in. Before she could respond, I said, "No? Well, OK! Then I'll have to improvise." With that I grabbed her ass cheeks firmly to keep her stationary and, leaning in, I quickly stabbed my tongue between the folds of her labia, giving a slow lick from bottom to top. She gave a small scream of surprise and stumbled back, but I caught her. As my tongue made its way towards the top of her vagina, I felt her leaking more juice, wetting my beard, so I returned to the bottom and dug my tongue deeper to collect them, making her moan. Her channel was flooded with her oils. She was not only a horny thing, but a very wet one. I locked my lips around her labia, while my tongue got busy in her channel. I wasn't going for finesse. I was trying to get her juice. My beard and moustache got soaked very quickly. "Mmmm. You're delicious, Sarah." My efforts were having an effect on her and I felt her legs shake. She was desperately trying to stay on her feet, holding on to my shoulders to keep her balance, even though I was supporting her with my hands on her ass cheeks. I ceased my efforts and stood up. When she felt me standing up, she opened her eyes. I could see she was far gone, trying to focus on my face. I gave her a soft kiss, letting her taste herself. As our kiss continued, she started shaking like a leaf and I was surprised by the intensity of her arousal. Her lust and need was palpable, running through her body like a forest fire, unstoppable. Breaking the kiss, I softly said, "Sarah, baby. Calm down." It took me several tries, before I could get her attention. "Easy, baby. Take deep breaths... Yes... like that... one more time... yes..." I realized, this little re-enactment of the embarrassing encounter from years ago had opened the flood-gates for all her pent up fantasies. She had waited too long, had lusted too much, and now, she was getting what she thought she would never experience. It had proven too much. I had an extremely horny girl in my hands, who was burning up with lust and going crazy with her need. "God, I need you, Mitch. I need you to fuck me... _Now_! I can't wait... I'm burning..." she said, almost pleading; her words coming in a rush interrupted only by her panting. I knew I had to get her off at least once if not twice before she could gather herself. Breaking the kiss, I gently caressed her cheeks to focus her attention on me. She was panting heavily and her eyes were unfocused, unseeing. I guided her to the bed and laid her down, with her ass on the edge. "Please, Mitch. I need it," she whimpered. "I'll take care of you, Sarah. Relax. Don't worry," I replied, and gave her a kiss. I kept caressing her face, watching her carefully, until she realized she was laying down on the bed, and I had her attention. "Just close your eyes and enjoy, Sarah," I said and moved to a kneeling position. Holding her legs up and spreading them, I placed them on my shoulder. She was seeping her juices onto the towel and her clitoris was distended. Licking her from bottom to top, I hit directly on her clitoris with the bottom of my tongue, to get her off as fast as possible and take the edge off her need. That one touch was enough. She screamed, and I mean, she really screamed; the sound echoing from the walls of her room, and her hips lurched. I locked my lips and gently sucked her clitoris, feeling her come like a freight train. She gave short, sharp screams, her hips shaking and her hands clutching my head, pulling me to her pussy. Before her clitoris got too sensitive, I dipped my tongue into the folds of her vagina and licked her inner lips, to keep her going. Once her orgasm was over, I switched between her labia, inner lips, and clitoris, while working a finger into her slick channel. I could feel the erratic fluttering from the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her channel was flooded with her juices, and I knew I could bring her again, while she was still hot. I worked a second finger in and stroked them together, while I worked on her clitoris. She responded with soft wails that turned into yelps and little screams each time I stroked with my fingers. I didn't dare try the 'ON' switch, as I was scared of the reaction I might get. Instead, I worked her to a second orgasm, stimulating her clitoris, while working her channel with my fingers. A few minutes later, she gave another scream, this time softer, and had her second orgasm, wailing like a wounded animal. It wasn't as sharp as her first one, but it was a long one. She kept wailing and I was getting concerned whether she would breathe. Her body was shaking and trembling, her head whipping from side to side. Her hips kept lurching against my face, and her thighs tried to squeeze me. Then, her wail turned into moans and she started to gasp and pant. Her inner muscles kept fluttering and pumping her fluids, wetting my fingers and the towel under her ass. I brought her down gently, drawing out her pleasure and listening to her breathing. Her belly was contracting and I was sure she would feel sore from all that workout. When it was over, I used the end of the towel to wipe my hand and chin, then went about cleaning her juices from her thighs and pussy. The part of the towel under her ass cheeks was soaking wet with her juices and I was sure the comforter had a stain. She had lost a lot of body fluids. That done, I sat next to her and caressed her face, watching her carefully. Her hair was tousled, but because it was cut short in an easy to keep style, it wasn't messed too badly. She had a fine sheen of sweat from all the thrashing she had done during her orgasms and her make up needed refreshing. Her skin had a pleasant glow. When she finally opened her eyes, they were soft and relaxed but, instead of the lethargy of an orgasm, her gray eyes were shining with a strange hue. The arousal was still there. I could see she would be ready to go a few more times in a short while, but the edge was off; her burning need temporarily satiated. "Sarah, baby. Rest a moment and I'll get you something to drink, OK?" She closed her eyes to indicate her understanding. I left her room, making a stop at the bathroom to wash my hands and face. Picking up a fresh towel and filling the cup I found in front of the mirror, I returned to Sarah's bedroom. The water helped with her thirst. I used the towel to clean her up more. "How are you feeling, Sarah?" "God, Mitch. I've never felt this kind of need before. I thought I was going to die. I was burning up. I scared you, didn't I?" "Yes, for a while. I didn't expect such a reaction, but I understand. You must have fantasized about it a long time. All the built-up emotions inside... had to come out." "I did fantasize a lot! I told you I lusted after you, but I didn't expect it would be like this. I'm sorry." "It's all right, Sarah. We still have the whole night." "You're not scared to continue?" "Why should I be scared?" "I don't want you to take my reaction wrong, Mitch. I love you, as a friend and a bed partner. Do you understand?" "I understand, Sarah. We've been friends since childhood and we lusted after each other. We just didn't know what to do about it then. Now, we do. You still have a lot in your system and you need to get it out," I replied. She smiled at that. "Yeah. You're right. I didn't know how much, until a while ago. How about you?" "I have some pent up lust as well, but I can wait. Not many people get to realize a childhood or teenage fantasy. In that respect, we're lucky. Now, we need to get you ready. We've taken longer than we planned and I'm afraid you've been pretty vocal." "Really?" I nodded. "Screw that. This is my house. I got my bells rung and I'm not going to apologize for it. Especially for something that I never thought I would ever have," she replied, with an uncompromising tone. I could see she wasn't concerned or bashful about what people might have heard, or any gossiping. "Still, you might want to brush your hair and refresh your makeup." "OK. But first, I want you to put the tampon in." "You sure you can handle that?" "Yes, Mitch. I can handle that. You took the edge off." I got off the bed and kneeling in front of her spread legs, I put the tampon in, taking care not to hurt her. I could see she was already juicing up when I was busy with the tampon. After the delicate operation was over, she got off the bed. Then she picked the wet towel. As I expected, on the comforter, there was a wet spot. When she saw it, she chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I'll have to take it to the cleaners, but it was worth it." She put on the new panties and then her jeans. Sitting in front of her dresser, she cleaned up all her make up, but didn't put on new make-up, going for a natural look. She didn't need to. She had the freshly fucked look and was going to flaunt it. After brushing her hair, she was ready. Before leaving the room, we shared a gentle kiss. "You washed up?" she asked. "Wouldn't do to go out smelling like that, would it?" "No, but it could help you keep the sharks away," she teased. "I don't think I need any shark repellant, anymore. Not after your public announcement," I quipped back. Laughing, she said, "Well, they can eat their hearts out." "I don't want to sound arrogant, but some may, when they take a look at you. You positively glow. You're going to flaunt it, aren't you?" "What can I say, I feel absolutely wicked. Why not add insult to injury?" she quipped with an impish grin. Putting her arm around my waist, she said, "Let's go. I'm dying of thirst." * * * * * Back in the living room, Kathy saw us. From the smile on her face, it was apparent she had not missed what happened. I would have been surprised if anybody had. Sarah led us to the kitchen to get a glass of water. A few minutes later, Kathy joined us. _Why did I think she would not?_ She didn't beat around the bush and went directly to the point. "Are you staying here?" "Yes. Sarah asked me to help with the clean up after the party and we want to catch up on old times," I replied without skipping a beat, before I realized I had said the wrong thing. "Catch up on old times? I thought you already did that?" she quipped. "Well, we still have some more catching up to do," Sarah said. I added pointedly, "We also thought you and Mark would like to have some quiet time at your place." "Thank you," she replied, her tone softer, without a trace of teasing. "You guys want to join us for a late brunch, tomorrow?" she asked. I looked at Sarah to see what she wanted to do. "Sure, Kathy. Can we make it a bit later than usual, say two or three o'clock?" Sarah replied. Hearing that, Kathy laughed at Sarah. Then with a knowing look, she quipped, "No problem, Sarah. Just don't kill him. He's the only brother I've got." "I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't, Kathy," Sarah came back. "If you excuse me ladies, I think I'll join Mark. I don't think I want to hear anything further." I must have been brain-dead--'probably I imbibed too much pussy juice' I thought--as I realized I had repeated my mistake a second time. It was not only the wrong thing to say, but was also like waving a red flag to a bull; an invitation. "Yeah, you do that. We'll join you later. We have to catch up on things," Kathy came back, stopping me dead on my tracks. When I looked at Sarah, she had an unabashed smile on her face, enjoying my discomfort and Kathy's incessant teasing. "I changed my mind," I said, hoping they would not talk about some things in my presence--Yeah, call me stupid! I know I can be a dumb ass! "OK, keep us company then," Kathy said casually, with a shrug. Without skipping a beat, she turned to Sarah, and asked, "So, how was he?" _Would somebody kick me in the ass? Please? Better yet, can somebody lend me some brains?_ I didn't know who was using my mouth, but it sure wasn't me--I wouldn't be that stupid, would I? As I stood there, shocked at her gall, Sarah replied, "Very good, Kathy. You wouldn't believe it." "Oh, I think I would. I heard you. Loud and clear," Kathy responded. Their tone was casual as if they were having a conversation about a movie or something. The only thing that was out of place was the smile they both had, knowing the effect they were having on me. "That doesn't do justice to how it felt, Kathy. It was much better than that," Sarah continued. My stubborn side kicked in. I wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of being run off the kitchen, so I gathered myself and assumed a nonchalant stance. I was also curious how far they would take it. "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure, Sarah. The conversation almost came to a stop, when we heard you," Kathy piped up. At that, Sarah colored a bit and gave a questioning look to Kathy to see if this was part of the joke they were having at my expense or if she was being serious, but Kathy was not giving anything away. I took heart at that development, and was sure that Kathy's comment would put a stop to the charade. Composing herself, Sarah forged on. "I disagree, Kathy. Nothing I could say can compare to how good it was." Not wanting to stop the joke early, Kathy relented. "Hmmm. I guess I have to take your word for it. Tell me, what happened?" Getting back into the swing of things, Sarah continued. "Well, he took off my belt. Then he unbuttoned my jeans. After helping me off with my shoes, he slowly pulled my jeans down. Once he had them off, he took hold of the waistband of my panties. He could see I was soaking wet. Oh, that reminds me... I'm forgetting what brought the whole thing on in the first place." At that Sarah gave a meaningful look to Kathy. Taking the hint, Kathy responded, "Yeah, tell it from the beginning. I don't want to miss the story." "Well, he agreed to spend the night here. I was pretty worked up by then, so I told him I needed a change of underwear. He reminded me that we could enact a teenage memory." With that, Sarah took a dramatic pause. Of course, Kathy didn't miss the signal and asked, "Teenage memory? I don't remember you telling me about a teenage memory involving Mitch." "No, I didn't tell you. It had been pretty embarrassing, but since it was long ago, now I can. After all, that's what started this whole episode." _Nooo! They aren't going to stop._ _Of course, not, you ding-dong! What were you thinking? Were you thinking at all?_ I wasn't really embarrassed, but I felt awkward. Not only that, but I wasn't sure how much detail Sarah was going to get into. If I had learned something about women, but especially about Kathy and Sarah, it was obvious they were going to get pretty explicit. After all, they had known each other too long and shared too much. I had a growing suspicion they shared more than some sisters did. I gave a pleading look to Sarah, who returned it with a teasing smile. "Excuse me just a moment, Kathy," she said, before moving to stand in front of me. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she pulled me for a kiss. "Mitch, if you haven't realized it yet, Kathy is simmering. We usually get each other worked up. This isn't the first time. You know how women can get. I want to see steam come out of her ears," she whispered. "I knew this was going to come back to bite me in the ass. It didn't when we were teens, and now..." I whispered back. "Well, it was long overdue, Mitch," she retorted with amusement. "Darn, Sarah. She's my sister. Can't I have some dignity?" "Come on, relax. It's all in good fun. Nothing will happen to your dignity. We'll have a great time tonight and so will Kathy, once she leaves with Mark," she whispered with a wicked grin. Why did I think they would not talk about it? Women were worse than men, when it came to such matters. Kissing her I said, "Don't be generous about the details," even though I knew she would be. When Sarah released her hold on my neck, I took a look at Kathy. She was watching us with interest, but I could see she wasn't concerned about my decision. Rather, she was curious about the story from the past. I could see she was also getting slightly worked up. Mark was going to get very lucky, if Sarah could pull off what she was planning to do. From what I had seen of Mark and Kathy, I knew it was a foregone conclusion, but now, it was easy to see my sister in a different light; a young, beautiful woman, very much in love, and simmering. When Sarah had commented earlier on how hot a woman my sister was, I had felt a bit uncomfortable, mostly because I didn't want to think about her or look at her as a woman. My brotherly instincts had always been too strong and too strict. Of course I loved my sister, but as a brother. Now, with her merciless teasing, and apparent interest in what Sarah and I had done a while ago, I realized she was acting like a woman rather than a sister. "Since you're not in a hurry to keep company with Mark, I better tell him he's going to wait," I said, trying get at her, to even the score somewhat. She took it in stride. "I'll make it up to him later," she retorted with a snicker, and quickly followed it with, "Sarah will make it up to you as well." Losing my composure, I replied, "Kathy, the way you talk sometimes--" "Don't spoil the fun, Mitch. You're my brother and Sarah is my best friend. We've known each other since childhood. Mark is my lover, and I don't hide it. I didn't get to know much about the girls you've dated. I missed out on the sister's privileges. Now, I can get to hear what a stud my brother is." Except as teenagers, we never teased each other or talked about sex or our relationships. What's more, we had been very close. On the other hand, in the last few years, I had been distant, a closed box. I realized Kathy had always been the one to try to bridge the distance. I guessed her interest and curiosity was partly fueled by her desire to hear something juicy from Sarah, and partly to know something about her brother. "I give up," I said and left the kitchen, muttering, "Women!" "You can't live with them; you can't live without them," they chorused behind my back, laughing. I needed a drink, and Sarah had confiscated my glass of vodka in the kitchen. In the dining room, looking over the choices, I settled for a glass of beer. I didn't want to disappoint Sarah, although there wasn't much of a chance of that, remembering how quickly she got off. Back in the living room, I found Mark going over the CDs. After making a few selections, he went over them one more time to chose one, and put it in the player. When I heard the song I wanted to plug my ears, hit my head to the walls. _Why isn't there an off-switch?_ I felt like downing a stiff drink, but it wasn't something I resorted to very frequently when old memories awakened; triggered by a melody, or a phrase I had heard, or a scene in a movie I had watched. I didn't use sleeping pills when I couldn't sleep. Yes, I had gotten drunk, on rare occasions, but usually among friends, or to blow off some steam after work hours (as it had happened with Pops), and mostly for recreational purposes and not as a solution to my problems. I had just gotten over the song Sarah sang, and now Neil Diamond was singing _September Morn_; another song from the past, perhaps not as memorable as _Lady in Red_, but almost there. And, it was pulling me on a journey I wasn't willing to go on. . . . . It was mid-summer... the beginning of _my summer_... and the end... the summer when my heart was broken and handed back to me. I had finished six weeks of grueling work in the desert--the last industrial practice I had had as part of the college program at the end of my junior year--and was back at home; tired from the work, the stress, and deeply tanned from working on the rig. I was looking forward to eight or nine weeks of vacation at our summer flat by the beach, before the fall semester of my senior year started. My parents decided to join me later. Kathy was busy with something else, and she stayed with them, thus giving me the opportunity to have some quiet time by myself at our flat. The morning I arrived at our summer flat, I spent most of the day opening the house, cleaning it and getting it ready. By mid- afternoon, I was at the beach taking my afternoon run along the coast that stretched for more than twenty miles. It was a ritual I had rarely let go when I was here, at my beach. Back in my hometown, I didn't care much about jogging or running and had to force myself. (These last several years, on the rig-site, I rarely ran; the work was hard enough, and on rare occasions when I could find some free time in the afternoon, Tai Chi exercises offered some relaxation). But on this beach, I loved to run. There were also a few secluded spots where I could practice Tai Chi while facing the sea and smelling the salty sea air. Sometimes I did my practice in the sea, when it was calm (usually very early in the morning), belly deep in the cold water. Some combinations were not possible, especially when I tried to do them as slowly as possible, so I used a different variation of the forms. That first evening, while I was thinking trying to decide whether to cook or go to town to grab a bite, Gillian dropped by and invited me to dinner with her parents. My parents had met Gillian's parents when they were buying the flat. It had been a chance encounter at the real estate agent's office, both families realizing they were going to be neighbors at the vacation spot. When we moved into our flat, the two families had quickly become good friends, and continued visiting each other back in town when we returned from vacation as the friendship between them grew. Gil was a year younger than Kathy, but you couldn't tell by looking at her. As tall as Kathy, she looked bigger, taking after her mother, who was a tall woman with big bones. With curly light brown hair that always looked tousled, and brown eyes that were alight with liveliness, she was a tomboy, and she and Kathy got along great. And for me, she was sort of an impish second sister. All of us spent a lot of time together all year around, but we had the most fun during the summer vacations with several other kids from the neighborhood. So, that evening, when she invited me for dinner, I didn't hesitate to accept it, looking forward to a great time with Gil and her parents, who were really very nice people. After dinner, I offered to take Gil to a small disco by the beach, even though I didn't feel like it. I was feeling pretty tired, but my polite side won over my tiredness. Her parents were pleased, and Gil asked if she could bring a new friend of hers; a girl from next door. I knew there was no way I could get out of it. When Gillian introduced her to me, I felt something stirring inside me, as if I was standing at the edge of an abyss, and staring into the eye of a storm brewing, the feeling making me uneasy. I caught her brown eyes giving me fleeting looks, and she seemed as apprehensive as I was. Before I could collect myself, our eyes locked for a brief moment, and I saw the clouds that seemed to drift in and out of them. With an effort I tried to center myself, surprised at my reaction to this strange girl, but I was unable to. My insides were in turmoil, and I turned my attention back to Gil, trying to break the spell this girl was having on me. However it was a short lived relief. When we shook hands the touch was electric; I heard the beat of my heart loud in my inner ear, and felt the rush of blood; my skin was tingling as if it had caught fire. Our eyes locked again, and I knew I was hearing the _Siren's Song_ calling out my name. My heart was captured by the mysteries those brown eyes held in their depths. When I released her hand, her expression changed to something like relief. I didn't understand her reaction at all, but to ease any disquiet she might be having, I averted my eyes, taking her in. I noticed the goose bumps on her arm, and realized I had goose bumps on my arm, too, despite the fact that it was a very warm night without any breeze. That was the beginning... of the end! In a short span of seven weeks, I experienced every known emotion and probably a few unknown, unnamed ones as well. Luckily, my parents saw only parts of the whole episode, since they arrived quite late. As things got worse, I didn't stick around, but headed back home earlier than planned. It was September, the trees and the streets covered with golden flecks, and the Fall Semester looming in two weeks time. It was melancholy time, unless I did something about it, so I got busy getting ready for my last year at the college. I spent most of the nights awake, pecking at the typewriter, writing my report (industry training I did at the rig) to be submitted for grading by the middle of the Fall Semester. When I got tired from it, the memories would come in a flood; the hurt and pain still fresh, the 'what ifs' and 'whys' following closely behind. The few hours of sleep I managed would be invaded by dreams of her: us in her bed as we pleasured each other, feeling that invisible chord that bound us tightening around me, taking me home. Those intimate moments would be replayed in vivid detail; so much so that I would wake up to her touch or her smell, finding myself either painfully erect or wilting from an involuntary ejaculation. But the worst part had always been the incredible feeling of emptiness that settled over me as that special chord got severed in that waking moment, and the longing and heartache that followed it. After a week of constant nightmares, I dreaded falling asleep, and I started keeping a diary; scribbling the memories and whatever else that came visiting, hoping to get rid of them, and usually falling asleep with emotional exhaustion when dawn was breaking. During those times, I found myself listening to _September Morn_ by Neil Diamond that played quite frequently on one of the music channels. After a few times of listening to it, it had come to symbolize my melancholy, but I had been unable to avoid it, hanging to each note, each word, as Neil kept singing. Aside from that, the diary didn't help solve the problems. Worse, it had become a sort of a reference book, refreshing and strengthening the memories, in the end, forcing me to quit writing altogether. I knew I couldn't continue that way, and since my course load was going to be much lighter than previous years, and I didn't want to have too much free time in my hands, I lined up a part time job. Over time, as I got busy with school and work, the vivid wet dreams and the nightmares became less frequent. _Yeah. I didn't have much free time that year. The job was pleasant and I didn't have to interact with people too much. The rest of the time, the college kept me busy. But not busy enough. That's when I worked out some of the things about her, in little parts, as the pain and hurt gave way to emptiness._ By the time I was graduating, I wasn't able to deal with the emptiness, and I had filled some of it with anger. It had been easy, once I worked out some of the things about her and how I had failed us, but mostly how I had failed her. That was when I realized I needed to get away. Right after graduation, I signed up with a small outfit and got the hell out of town, back to the desert. It was a temporary job to fill-in the time until I had to go for my military service. Since no other company was willing to sign up somebody to let them go in half a year's time, my choices were limited. But then, I didn't care much about the money. I also knew the company was planning to pull some strings, and postpone my military service to get a year or two of work out of me; I had heard they had pulled the stunt on some of the students I'd known. A little bit of legal wrangling put a stop to their little scheme, though. I had no intention of delaying the army or anything else that stood as obstacles in front of me. I wanted to get over those momentary nuisances, so that I could get on with my life, and find something better, if there was something better--whatever it was. . . . . Thinking back on those times, I was still surprised, even now, how everything worked out as I had planned. _Yeah, it did, didn't it? Except her, of course. She's still the one I think of, whether I admit it or not. Didn't I fail that one time?_ _Jeeez! It just takes one stupid song to dredge up a whole lot of garbage from the past._ My unease and melancholy didn't last long. It was another tiny piece from my past that erased the melancholy. _The diary. The fucking diary! What did I do with it?_ I was close to panic trying to remember what I did with it. It was so long ago that I had forgotten about it. Carefully digging into my memory, I found that innocuous little detail. I had it packed among my school-books, in a box with my other books, in my room. _Shit. Why didn't I burn it? Why? It could fall into the wrong hands._ I was concerned, but not overly so. I wrote in the foreign language I had learned in high school. Mom wasn't familiar with the language, but Dad and Sis were fluent. I knew Dad wouldn't do something like that, but Kathy was a different matter. She could easily be tempted, once she recognized what it was and what period of my life it contained. If it had been something else, Kathy wouldn't snoop like that. But that period, on the other hand, was a black hole for her. Like Mom, she was protective of me--as I was coming to realize more and more. She would feel guilty doing something like that, after the fact, but she would also justify her actions (very logically and very rationally, I might add). _First business of the day, tomorrow: 'Search and Destroy!'_ I chuckled silently at my choice of a military term. I had learned quite a bit during my short spell in the service, but I hadn't really enjoyed my time. What's more, I had ended up doing some serious juggling, trying to hide my past and my skills. I wasn't a predator, but I had the skills of a predator, and soldiering teaches you how to be an efficient predator (as if I needed to be more efficient, with the anger tucked inside me), so it had been a trying time. I abhorred violence, even though I knew I would resort to it if forced to. Pops had me pegged right a year ago. At the time, I could have easily resorted to violence; the daily exposure to news of random violence desensitizing me further and loosening my already weakening controls. I shook my head, trying to physically shake clear the cobwebs of past, of history, but it didn't help of course. I focused on tonight, and the delights Sarah was promising for both of us, which eventually helped to erase the unease that had settled in me. I noticed Mark was playing with the equalizer, trying to enhance the quality of the sound. A little bit more of twiddling with the controls, and he seemed to be satisfied with the results. When he stood up, he saw me watching him, and raised an eyebrow as he walked to me. I guess he was wondering where the girls were. "They're still in the kitchen," I said. "Did they run you out?" he asked with a knowing grin. "Yeah. Something like that," I replied, a bit uncomfortable where the conversation might be headed. "Mitch, we haven't had a chance to get to know each other. You don't know me much, but I heard a lot about you from Kathy," he said. I didn't have a response, so I waited for him to continue. "You know, I love Kathy. Very much so." "I think it's very obvious that you both love each other," I replied, with a small reassuring smile. He gave me a long look, trying to judge the sincerity of my reply. Satisfied with what he saw, he said, "I also know that she loves you, very much. I have to tell you, at first, I was surprised and almost jealous of her love for you, mistaking it for something else," he said pointedly. I almost turned red by the implication, and angry at the same time. But, before I could say anything, he raised his hands slightly in an apologetic manner, and continued, "At the time, I didn't know what you did for work and where you worked. You may not have realized it, but she worries about you, a lot. I suspect she doesn't show it around you." That gave me a pause. In the light of yesterday's talk about the past, and how Kathy had kept my childhood struggles secret from my parents, Mark's comment made sense. What's more, I heard genuine concern for her in his voice. Seeing the expression on my face, Mark asked, "She doesn't, does she?" "No, she doesn't. At least not much. I guess it's because I haven't talked about things with Kathy for quite some time," I replied, but my tone made it clear I didn't want to get into what we haven't talked about. Kathy had probably mentioned something about how distant and closed up I had been in the last few years. Mark was, after all, her lover and they were planning to get married. Mark nodded his understanding. "Do you mind if I ask how bad it is, where you work? We read a lot on the papers, or see it on TV." "It's bad, but not that bad. The media usually exaggerate. You just have to be careful. Plus, it's mostly opportunistic targeting. We have pretty good protection where I work. There are softer, easier targets. That's why I'm not worried about it too much. I'm pretty careful and cautious as well," I replied, trying to downplay the situation as much as reasonably possible. "But you never know what might happen. Wrong time, wrong place," he commented. "You can't avoid everything, Mark. I'm sorry to say that, but you have to be there to see and understand how it is. It's not a war zone. Yes, there's a clandestine war going on, but... as I said. It's not that bad." Seeing I was getting defensive, he changed tracks. "Well, I think Kathy seems to accept or understand it better now. She seems much happier than a few weeks ago." "What do you mean?" "I'm not sure, but she's not as tense as she used to be, especially tonight. Is that something to do with you and Sarah?" he asked, then hastily added, "I didn't mean to butt my nose into something..." However, there was an unspoken 'but' at the end of that statement, and from his embarrassed smile, he was referring to Sarah's vocal escapade with me. "I don't know. Sarah and I... we're not really an item, but we've known each other for a long time." "I've known Sarah for quite some time now. Well, she's Kathy's best friend, and really a nice girl. The two could be sisters." Then with a grin, he said, "Both are something. They can drive you up the wall." "Well, Kathy does, since we were kids. She hasn't changed. I hadn't seen Sarah for some years, so I didn't know what to expect. Kathy told me she changed." "You kidding?" "Nope." "Then I have a word of warning for you. Don't take what I'm going to say the wrong way, Mitch. I'm a straight shooter and I'm usually very blunt. I don't think you care for sugar coating. I really love your sister and respect her. Same with Sarah. However, I know Kathy and Sarah can get pretty rowdy at times. I've been a victim of their teasing too long." I nodded. "Were they teasing you or were they trying to get each other worked up?" he asked, in a conspiratorial tone, giving me a small grin, but it wasn't lecherous. I didn't take offense at all, as there was a feeling of man-to- man confidence, perhaps the beginnings of brothers-in-law relationship in regards to Kathy. "Both," I replied, returning his grin. "I really didn't expect something like that, from them. We were close as siblings, and still close, but... You know what I mean." "Yeah. I know what you mean. Your sister is a real gem and she's a handful, but that's what I like about her." "Do you mind if I ask why you guys decided to wait?" "Your sister wanted to finish her specialization. If it were up to me, we would have been married. But I understand her reasons. I guess I was scared somebody else would grab her in the meantime. However, it worked out for the best. I do a lot of traveling and it wouldn't have been nice being away from home for too long when we're newly married. Just between the two of us, I'm making some arrangements to improve the situation." "What kind of arrangements?" "I have the major accounts in this city with almost all the hospitals and a few of the private clinics. I had been making good money from the sales and commissions, so I managed to put aside a tidy sum, which will come handy when we get married. But most important, I finally convinced my boss we should set up a small office here to give after-sales service to our major clients. We have enough work to justify the costs, and we'll probably get more clients if we have a presence here. There are quite a number of smaller clinics and other private establishments. By profession I'm an engineer, and I can run the service side as well as sales. That would also mean I wouldn't have to be on the road all the time, perhaps once a month to the head office to wrap up projects and report." "You're planning... to settle here?" "Yes. Your sister is a very good doctor and she's made quite a reputation. As soon as she finishes her specialization she'll be offered a position. I know she likes that hospital and most of her friends are here. I don't want her to have to start over someplace else, where she has to prove herself. It's not that she couldn't do it, but it would be a waste of time. She had invested a great deal in that hospital and she deserves to reap the fruits of her efforts. Since I can settle here, it's the most logical solution. Neither of us is going to be giving up something." "She doesn't know anything about this, does she?" "No, she doesn't. It's going to be a surprise. She'll probably figure it out though." "Why do you say that?" "I would be spending more time here, setting up an office, and hiring staff. It will be hard to hide it from your sister. Don't you think?" He grinned. "Heh. Understatement of the year, Mark. You better come clean before she figures it out or you'll not hear the end of it," I replied with a laugh. "That's what I figured, too. I'm just trying to tie up the few loose ends and get an approval for my formal proposal. I don't think it will take more than a few weeks. I've already pegged down specific office locations and prices. Half of the staff is already selected from our technical group, and I have been doing some unofficial reconnaissance for talent in the city during the last few months. Once I have the official OK, I'll break the news to her. As I said, it will be difficult to explain my activities here once I get busy with the actual setting up of operations. How long are you on vacation, Mitch?" "About four weeks, roughly. Why?" "As I said, I expect an answer very soon. If it works out, I would like to go out for a celebration to break the news to Kathy." He gave a meaningful look, making me laugh. "You're scared of Kathy's reaction, aren't you, and want some support?" I asked. He gave a hearty laugh. "Yes. I'm afraid you're right about my ulterior motives." "You don't have to worry about that, Mark. I've seen how she is with you. She's very different. She's a very independent girl. She had always been like that, even when we were kids. Very competitive as well. But around you, she's different. I know that she loves you very much. What you're trying to do tells me that you love her back. Long distance relationships are pretty difficult, and yet, you two managed it. I think she'll be thrilled when you break the news. I know she feels lonely and she needs her man around. If things work out as you planned, count me in. I'll certainly be there." "Thank you, Mitch. I appreciate the vote of confidence." "No need for thanks, Mark. If you don't mind my asking, how did you fare with Mom? She can be a tough lady." He smiled at that. "I like your mom. She's really sweet. It's easy to see where Kathy got her looks and strength. I know she was concerned about the long distance relationship, but I think she understands I'm serious about your sister. To tell the truth, I agree with what she said to your sister: 'first school then marriage'. I can't fault her logic. And I love her cooking." "Well, I love her cooking, too, but I think every son loves his mother's cooking. More or less," I commented with a smile. He replied, "True, I loved my mom's cooking, but it's been a long time." Seeing my confused look, he said, "Mom passed away four years ago." "I'm sorry to hear that," I replied hastily, realizing I had touched a tender spot. "It's all right. You didn't know," he said, trying to relieve my embarrassment, then he added, "That's why it was great to meet your mom. I had forgotten how good home cooking could be, and your mom is really an excellent cook." "Thank you. I'm sorry to hear about your loss. Please accept my condolences." "Thank you, Mitch." We were quiet for a few seconds, and I was hesitant to ask about his dad. However, he didn't miss my unease, giving me a questioning look. "I was wondering about your dad," I said with a nervous tone. He gave an understanding smile, and replied, "Dad's alive. He's retired and keeping himself busy with a part-time consulting job out of his home office. He's an engineer, so you could say I followed in his footsteps. Kathy and I visited him several times, and he's very fond of her. Yep, he loves her. Every time I talk to him, he keeps reminding me to tie the knot before I lose her to somebody else." I laughed at his remark. "You shouldn't be concerned about something like that. I don't think Kathy sees anyone but you," I replied. Then, extending my hand, I said, "I guess it's a bit late, but let's make it official. Welcome to the family, Mark," and we shook hands. We kept on chatting about various subjects, before the girls returned from the kitchen. From the flush on Kathy's face I didn't have trouble guessing Sarah had done what she had promised. Mark must have recognized it as well, because he raised an eyebrow at Kathy, and received a naughty grin. Kathy moved in close and whispered, "I didn't know you were such a bad boy, Mitch. And, with my best friend. You've got some explaining to do." Sarah, of course, knew what Kathy was doing and grinned at me unabashedly. _Damn girls!_ Then, Kathy moved to Mark, who was watching the developments with curiosity. He was aware the girls were giving me a hard time about something, but he was polite enough not to ask about it. He may have been glad that, for once, he wasn't their target. Unfortunately, his relief would be short lived. Kathy turned her attention on Mark and without a preamble asked when they could leave the party. I looked at my watch and it was almost eleven o'clock, still early. "Are you tired, Kathy? It's almost eleven," I teased her. Mark picked up on it as well, and said it was indeed too early to leave the party. Sarah joined in by asking if her party was boring. Kathy knew all of us were conspiring against her, but she wasn't going to give us the satisfaction of seeing her squirm, so she replied she didn't realize it was that early. However, she was going to try underhanded methods, and moving under Mark's arm, she started to work on him, discreetly, with innocent little touches here and there, and giving him smoldering looks. I wondered how long it would take Kathy to work her charm on Mark, and how long it would be before Sarah distracted me. After a few minutes, Sarah reminded us we had to mingle, so I kept her company for the next hour, until the party drew to a close. While getting a drink for myself, I looked around for Mark to see how he was faring with Kathy, and I was surprised to see that he was taking it in stride. He noticed me and headed in my direction to refresh his drink, and perhaps get a breather from Kathy's incessant attentions. "You must have an iron constitution, Mark," I commented. He gave a wry grin, and replied, "Well, you know how it is. Good things come to those that wait." "Not only you have an iron constitution, you're very brave as well. You're not scared of repercussions?" I retorted with a grin. "I'm not really brave, not when it comes to Kathy. But, she'd be disappointed if I give up so easily." "Yes. She loves challenges. No questions about that. I'm happy to see that she has finally met her match." At that, he laughed. "I don't know about that. How about you?" "Sarah is taking it easy on me. Maybe we should keep the girls separate," I suggested. He raised his glass and replied, "You're a quick study, Mitch. It took me longer to realize that, but they're inseparable." "It's only survival instincts, Mark," I quipped. We had a good laugh about that. Just then both girls showed up at our side, asking what we were laughing about. Mark and I shared a look before bursting into laughter again. "I think it's time we tuck these two in bed, don't you think Sarah?" asked Kathy. "Yeah. They are getting silly," quipped Sarah. Luckily before a back and forth started among the four of us, the few remaining guests interrupted us to thank Sarah for a great party and bid goodbye. After the guests had left, Mark and I helped the girls, collecting the empty plates, glasses, and generally tidying up the place, while they rinsed and stacked the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. It didn't take too long with four people working together to get the place picked up. Mark and Kathy stayed for a nightcap--coffee and Napoleon cognac--and both girls used the occasion to get us worked up, and get themselves worked up at the same time. It sure was going to be a hard night. Finally, Kathy and Mark bid us goodnight, Kathy reminding that we were expected at her place at three o'clock sharp. Needless to say, that started a short back and forth between the two at the door. Sarah said, she would try her best to be on time, and Kathy replied that wasn't good enough. Sarah came back, reminding Kathy she needed to sleep instead of staying up too late, at which point Mark gently pulled Kathy by her arm, saying she needed to be tucked in, while I did the same with Sarah, before the two girls could continue further. * * * * * CHAPTER - 15: The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of I closed the door, and turned to find Sarah moving into my arms. She hooked her hands around my neck, pulling me for a kiss. As she checked out my tonsils, she pushed me till my back was against the door, and plastered her body over mine, rubbing herself against me. When we surfaced from the kiss, she said, "Finally, I have you where I want you." Giving me a soft kiss, she moved her hand down to work on my belt, before I realized what she was doing. By the time our kiss ended, she had my belt loose, the button open, and was pulling the zipper down. She put her hand on my chest, pushing me gently but firmly against the door, while her other hand was busy stroking my cock in my boxers. She moved to kneel in front of me, and pulled my jeans and boxers down in a single move, surprising me again by her passion. I could hear her panting and wondered if she would rape me there, but she just knelt in front of me, looking at my cock. Holding the shaft gently with one hand, she leaned in for a lick, while her other hand moved to cup my balls. I didn't want to interrupt her, but I was thinking we could do this in more comfortable circumstances. After a few teasing licks, she let go of my cock and pulled my boxers and jeans back up, while she rose from her kneeling position. Her actions surprised me again, but before I could voice my question she said, "I just wanted to have a look and I couldn't wait. Now, I want to go to the bathroom and take out my tampon. I expect you to walk in on me." _Wow! She really wants to play out the whole scenario._ "Mmmm. Good plan, Sarah. Very good plan." She gave a big grin. "I thought so, too," she replied, her eyes aflame with arousal. "Give me two minutes." We walked the short hall, and she went into the bathroom. I continued to her bedroom, and took off my jacket and shirt, placing them on a chair. I took of my belt, since I didn't want it to slow us down. After getting my hard-on in a comfortable position, I zipped up and buttoned my jeans. I waited another minute to give time to Sarah. I closed her bedroom door firmly, so that Sarah would know I would be arriving, and be ready to get into position for the encounter. I suspected she would be sitting on the toilet cover, with her jeans and panties at her ankles, like she had been that day. I opened the door casually and there she was, in exactly the same position; jeans and panties around her ankles, knees spread wide, head bent, looking down, and her hand busy at her vagina. When she heard the door open she looked up. The only difference between the last time and now was the unadulterated lust in her eyes, instead of the shock she had had then. Before I entered the bathroom I was already hard with expectation, and now, my erection throbbed as the memory of teenage years rushed in like a freight train. This wasn't just déjà vu. It was more than that, and the effects unexpected. Taking a trip down memory lane was something I was used to. And, with my memory, my trips had always been special. But this was beyond that, helped along with the awakening of memories of that particular teenage moment. It was like traveling back in time. It probably took me half a minute, before I remembered where I was, although it felt like ages passed. The resulting effect on her was something incredible, sucking her into the scene. If I had tried play acting, my reaction wouldn't have the same realistic effect on her. Her hands were still at her pussy, fingers of one hand keeping her labia apart, giving me a good view of her moist pink flesh. She was holding the string of the tampon with her other hand, the end of tampon barely visible. I moved and knelt before her wide splayed legs, keeping eye contact with her. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I didn't know the toilet was occupied." After a pause, I continued, "You seem to be in trouble. Can I help?" She nodded her head, hesitantly, and chewed her lips like a scared young girl. I kissed her on her cheek and whispered, "Don't worry. I'll be careful. I won't hurt you." She nodded again in the same apprehensive manner, and I caressed her cheek. Playing her role to the hilt, she seemed to relax a bit, and this time I kissed her on her lips. It was a chaste kiss, and she sighed softly. Except for her breathing and the lust in her eyes, we were playing the 'what could have been' to perfection. "Please keep your fingers in position and lean back, so I can have a good look." She nodded her understanding. Her face was flushed, and it looked as if she was embarrassed, but we both knew it was from her building excitement and the anticipation of the moment. I knelt and, leaning in, took a good look. The moment evoked strange feelings; I was looking at a grown up woman, but it felt like I was looking at teenage girl flesh. The clean shaven labia, and the little bit of pubic hair on top of her mons gave that eerie effect. Gently I took the string to the tampon from her hand, and gave a gentle tug to get a feel, as if I was scared of hurting her. From the little pull I exerted, I knew she was deliberately squeezing her pussy muscles, giving the impression that it was stuck inside. I chuckled internally at her antics, but it was quite arousing when I thought about the situation, and how it could have turned out so many years ago if we both had been more experienced and daring. The thought sent a new surge of excitement, and I felt my cock throb with the sudden rush of fresh blood to my lower regions. "Sarah, honey. It's kind of stuck there, and if I try to pull it, it will hurt you," I said softly. She nodded, and her forehead crinkled with apprehension. She hesitantly asked, "W-What can we do?" She was good. "You need to relax, Sarah. You're too tense, and your little box is tense as well." "This never happened before. I can't seem to relax." "I think I can help you relax. But you have to trust me. I won't hurt you. Do you understand, Sarah?" "I trust you, Mitch. What are you going to do?" I gave a long, soft kiss, and asked, "Do you like kissing like this?" She nodded with a smile. "I'm going to kiss you like that... down there. Do you think you will enjoy that?" "Some girls say their boyfriends do something like that. Isn't it dirty or gross?" "No, Sarah. It's not dirty. You're beautiful down there, and I would love to do that for you. It will feel great and make you relax. May I try? Please?" She nodded hesitantly, and her color deepened, caught in the excitement of the moment. Then she asked, "You're going to make me cum with your mouth, aren't you?" At her question, I looked at her and said, "Yes, Sarah. I would like to try to do just that. Can I have another kiss before I start?" I rose up without waiting for her answer, and she grabbed my head, locking her lips without hesitation. We enjoyed a clumsy kiss, like teenagers, but the effect was magic. When our kiss ended, she was breathing hard, but more relaxed and excited. I knelt down in front of her splayed legs, gazed at her pussy, and mumbled, "You're beautiful, Sarah. I think you'll taste sweet as well." First, I touched her flesh with my lips softly, and then slowly started to lick the inner lips, from bottom to top. Despite the tampon she was juicing up plenty. After a few licks I looked up, and she had her eyes closed, panting softly, her nose flaring. Sensing that I stopped attending to her pussy, she opened her eyes, and looked at me. "Do you like it?" Her answer was much more enthusiastic than her earlier replies. "It feels good. You really don't mind doing that?" "Sarah you taste great. Just as I hoped. I'm really going to enjoy doing this. Just close your eyes and enjoy yourself. It will feel much better in a short while." She closed her eyes, waiting for me to continue, her breathing getting heavier. I started to lick her again, while applying little pulls to the string, tugging at her tampon to stimulate her channel, but softly enough so that the tampon stayed inside her. After a while, she started moaning, and she removed the hand which held her labia open, letting my hand take over. When I looked up, she had her hand under her sweater, busy playing with her tits. When I started to lick around her clitoris she gave a soft scream, her thighs starting to tremble, and her hips working to get more of my tongue action on her pussy. I kept teasing her, instead of trying to bring her over, and her screams changed to needy wails. I wanted her to ask for it. Finally, she couldn't help herself and she started to beg, "Please, Mitch... it's so good... please, do me... do it to me... I'm almost there. Make me cum." I stopped what I was doing, and looked at her. When she felt me stop, she opened her eyes. She was needy, but not like the last time, and she still had her wits. Falling back into her role, she begged, "Please, Mitch. You promised you would kiss me there until I cum. Please. Do it." "I will, Sarah. I want you to pull up your sweater. I want to see your tits." She acted a bit self-conscious and shy, when she heard my request, but when I didn't continue to lick and kept teasing her with my fingers, she lifted her sweater up, displaying a beautiful set of tits. They were perfectly shaped, firm, slightly pendulous due to their size but without being saggy. They were conical towards the tip. A set of pink, very erect, puffy nipples adorned the tips of them, standing at attention in the middle of crinkly, darker areola. "They're beautiful, Sarah." They begged to be kissed, so I rose up to lick from the underside to the top, and circled the nipple before sucking it, getting a nice moan for my efforts. Repeating the same action on her other breast, I moved for a kiss and we had a hot and wet kiss, Sarah licking her juices from my lips and then sucking my tongue. My finger was busy at her pussy, playing with the hood of her clitoris, trying to keep her on edge, making her gasp and pant into my mouth. After the kiss, I revisited her tits, before traveling further down to her pussy, leaving a wet trail, while my hands took over from where my lips left, at her tits, playing, kneading and teasing her flesh, pulling on her nipples. Back at her pussy, I gently sucked her clitoris, which had come out from its protective hood. As I had noticed before, it was pretty large, like a small penis. I wondered if that's why she was so hot and horny. As I sucked her clit, her hips came up, thighs trembling, and she started to wail her pleasure. Keeping one hand on her tit, I moved my other hand down to pull on the string to stimulate her, as she neared her peak. The combination of my efforts sucking and licking her clitoris, and the rhythmic pull I applied on the string had her on the brink in a few minutes. Wrapping the excess length of the string around my finger until I felt the bottom of the tampon at the tip of my finger, I got ready to bring her over. I started to lick around her clit in circles, then applied gentle suction and nipped it very lightly a few times, while I started to work her nipple, which had swelled between my fingers. As she screamed her release, I started to pull the tampon with the string and pushed it back with the tip of my finger, while sucking her clit, driving her crazy, her short but sharp screams echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom. As her screams tapered off to occasional moans, I slowly pulled the tampon, drawing out the last dregs of pleasure from her trembling, shaking body. As the tampon came out, it was followed by a little flood of her juices trapped behind it. Taking care not to over stimulate her clitoris, I locked my lips around her labia and worked my tongue at the entrance to her channel, with occasional swipes along the length of her slit, reaching her clitoris. She started to thrash again, but, to my surprise, I didn't have much difficulty keeping up with her movements. Then I realized one of my knees was on the crotch of her jeans and panties, pooled around her feet, effectively trapping her into position. She had no way to escape my attention, except wiggling her ass or raising it up a limited distance. Since she was still hot, and moving along to a second orgasm, I decided to go the whole distance. I dropped the tampon on the floor, and slowly worked a finger into her channel vacated recently by the tampon, while my tongue got busy over the hood of her clit; the bottom of my tongue making gentle swipes over the hood and exposed part of her clit. Adding a second finger, I rotated them and formed a hook, searching for her ON switch. I was pretty careful, after the experience I had had with Dana in my first test of that technique. I didn't want to lose a tooth or get my lips cut with a sudden reaction. Still, when I first touched it by accident, Sarah lurched up. Luckily her movements were very much restricted by her pants and my knee. My upper body prevented her from locking her legs around my head, even though she tried to close her legs instinctively. As I rubbed her special spot, she tried to take a deep breath, probably to scream her head off, however she was having difficulty breathing, panting and gasping. For a moment I was scared she would faint from lack of oxygen. The way she struggled, and thrashed on the toilet seat, the way her body trembled, made me wonder if she was slowly suffocating. Just as I was deciding to give her a break, I felt her diaphragm expand, and a few seconds later she exhaled slowly, with a wail that sounded like a wounded animal. She tried to push me away from her pussy, but I wanted to drag out her pleasure. I eased my rubbing but kept up on her clitoris. Her fingers grabbed my hair, pulling me hard against her pussy and she shrieked. A few seconds later, her fingers relaxed their hold, and I eased up on her clitoris which was starting to recede back under the hood. I kept rubbing her spot, trying to keep her at the peak, but her channel was gripping my fingers hard, fluttering and made it difficult to keep in position. I tried slow strokes as she started to come down, feeling her snug channel work its magic, trying to suck the invaders in, and swallow them. Her belly kept trembling, the stomach muscles doing double time, flexing with the after effects of her orgasm. I kept kissing and licking her inner lips and labia, as I withdrew my fingers, releasing another small flood of her juices. I was amazed by the amount of fluids she seemed to produce. When I looked up, her back was on the small reservoir, her had thrown back, resting on the wall, and her eyes were squeezed shut from the pleasure. She was breathing hard, but it was slowing down. For a moment I felt guilty that I worked her body so hard, but I was sure she enjoyed herself, and the fantasy play probably enhanced her experience. I knew I enjoyed the whole thing. If we had able to do something when we were young, we probably would have messed it up. Now, it had been perfect. I realized I still had one hand on her tit, and was squeezing her flesh hard in my excitement, trying to pleasure her as much as possible, so I eased my hold and caressed the soft flesh gently trying to sooth it. When I lifted my hand off her tit, I saw the imprint of my fingers. I must have been squeezing it quite brutally. I rose up and slowly kissed her belly, making my way back to her tits, and paid extra attention kissing her bruised tit, before moving to kiss her. When she felt my face near her and smelled her own womanly scent on my lips, my moustache and beard, her nose flared, and her eyes opened. I waited until she managed to focus on my face. Even though she had two hard orgasms, she seemed to feed on the pleasure. There was still unburned passion in her eyes, softened quite a bit with the pleasure she had experienced. She would be ready to go again in a short while, unless of course her heart gave out under the strain. For a moment I was taken aback by her appetite and energy, scared that she would eat me alive during the night. However, it was a short- lived fright, her lust turning me on and my own unsatisfied lust rising up, overcoming the fear. _I think this is going to be one memorable night. I wonder if we'll survive each other or this experience._ As she regained control of her breathing, she licked her lips, and then asked, "God, what were you trying to do? Kill me?" "Did I hurt you?" I asked. "No." "I told you I wouldn't hurt you, but I would try to make you come," I teased her. "You rat. You call that trying to make me come? I was dying. I thought my heart would burst or get sucked out of my pussy." "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, Sarah," I replied softly. She was going to give me a snappy reply, but then her expression softened, and she kissed me. "Thank you, Mitch. It was exquisite. It was beyond my expectations. It wouldn't have been anywhere close if we had done something, anything, at the time; inexperienced and shy as we were then." "I enjoyed it as much as you, Sarah. As you said, I doubt I would have been able to bring you pleasure then. Thank you for giving both of us the opportunity." We shared a long kiss, and she worked her tongue inside my mouth, working me up. The way she worked her lips and tongue, she was letting me know that she was going to suck me dry. Just the thought of her lips wrapped around my cock was enough to drive me crazy, after the way she kissed. "Don't you feel thirsty? I think you should have a glass or two of water. You lost a lot of fluids," I reminded her. "Thanks to you, there isn't a drop of liquid left in my body," she retorted. "I love tasting myself on your lips, on your tongue. It makes me horny." Putting her words into action she kissed me again, licking my lips and collecting her oils from my moustache. I moved my hand to check her pussy, and I felt her moisture seeping between the open lips of her labia, surprised again by how she seemed to produce so much liquid. She felt what I was doing, and smiled, and when I showed her my wet finger, she said, "OK. You don't have to rub my nose in it. I might have some fluids left in my body." "I'd rather rub my tongue in it," I quipped, before adding, "I'm not saying anything. I'm just surprised how wet you are, not that I'm complaining. It's quite a turn on." "Yeah, stud. You make me wet my panties," she retorted. Then, she took my hand, and licked my fingers that had been in her pussy, sucking them clean, while giving me a lecherous smile. In a more serious tone she said, "It helps during sex. I'm lucky that I'm not excessively wet during normal times. It can be a problem, causing a yeast infection or something if I'm not careful. Sometimes, I have to use a tampon or a panty liner, but except when I'm hot and horny I'm not that wet." "Well, you were hot and horny, but I didn't see any panty liners or tampons tonight," I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. "Ahh. That's a secret. I wanted you to feel and smell a woman in heat. I told you I lusted after you and I pulled all the stops, except..." "Except?" "After what Kathy told me, I promised myself I wasn't going to try anything, if you said no because of your girl friend. Fun is fun, lust is lust, but friendship and love are too important to throw aside because you want to have fun or satisfy your lust. I admit I worked you up, but I didn't hear anything from you asking me to slow down. I love you, Mitch. Not as in romantic love, but as a considerate lover, bed partner, and as my best friend's brother. I promised you one night, but until I find my own man, you have a standing invitation to share my bed. I could really do with a partner like you, but that's something for later, and is solely at your discretion. I'm not going to harass you with it. Not after what you did. We still have the whole night, and early morning to sate our thirst." She finished with a tingling laugh, her shaking breasts catching my eye, and reminding me the painful hard-on in my pants. "Can you get me a glass of water. I'm really thirsty, and if I try to slake my thirst on something else, I'm afraid I won't leave anything in you for the rest of the night," she quipped. Unfortunately, there was no cup in the bathroom. I had taken the only one to her bedroom early on. So, I went to the kitchen and grabbed a big glass, and a bottle of water from the fridge, and returned to the bathroom. I knew she wanted to complete the whole scene from the past with a blowjob in the bathroom, before we retired to her bedroom for the rest of the festivities, which suited me fine. I was close to bursting out with need also, the excitement of the whole scene, and pleasuring her kept me from focusing on my own needs. However, knowing what was coming made me realize my own pent up lust. After she finished two glasses of water, she was looking forward to the next phase of our little scenario. Sitting up, she pulled me close, unbuttoned my jeans, and pulled the zipper down. Then with deft little moves she slid my jeans and boxers down, releasing my hard cock. The tip was already wet, leaking some precum and she gave a quick lick, tasting it, before looking up at me. "You're pretty close, aren't you?" she asked. "Yep. I got worked up pretty good. I don't think I'll last too long." "Hmm... I don't want you to shoot off too soon. I can take the edge off, but..." "But?" "It involves a little bit of pain, and I don't want to do that just because I want to enjoy sucking you longer." "What kind of pain?" "A little flick on your testicles, and I will also press at the root, but that doesn't really hurt. The flick on the testicles will hurt, momentarily, and as a man you should know how sensitive the testicles are. I don't really want to do that Mitch, just to enjoy sucking you. I think you will enjoy it whether it's short or long. But, I know I will give you a lot of pleasure if it is longer. As they say, no pain, no gain. Your call." She was smiling when she said it, but I could sense her unease and a bit of guilt mixed with what she was suggesting. To ease her nerves I kissed her, and then said, "I choose the pain, Sarah. We didn't wait this long to waste the opportunity." On the outside I was calm, but my insides were churning a bit with apprehension. I knew she wouldn't hurt me. After all, she was a doctor, and knew about pain, and male anatomy. I was going to discover how much she knew about male anatomy later. "Give me another kiss, Mitch," she said, and as I was bending over, she flicked with her finger sharply at my testicles, catching me with surprise. The pain was sharp, and since I wasn't expecting it, I grunted, although it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Then she pressed at the root of my shaft, and combined with the after effects of the throbbing pain that was receding, they worked perfectly to take the edge off my immediate problem. I saw her eyes getting moist, and I shook my head. Leaning in whispered, "It wasn't that bad, Sarah. You distracted me nicely, and caught me by surprise." Giving her a long kiss, I looked in her eyes, and she seemed to get over her initial discomfort. "Are you going to kiss and heal me now?" I asked, with a grin. That had the desired effect, eliciting soft laughter. "Oh, yes. I'm going to play doctor with you." For the next twenty minutes, she tortured me with her velvet mouth and tongue, taking me to the edge then back several times. After the first ten minutes my legs were shaking, and after another five minutes, I was gritting my teeth. Her tongue was hard, and rough, her mouth sucking hard, then her tongue was light as a feather, the suction soft, teasing, the lips caressing, their touch almost non-existent, sliding over the length of my shaft. She got my balls simmering then almost boiling, before she let them cool off to get them simmering again, taking me to the edge over and over. I've never been tortured in such an exquisite manner. Changing her position, she aligned her throat and opened it up, swallowing my cock completely to the balls, the glans lodged inside her throat, as she worked her muscles there, working on the sensitive underside of the glans and all around it. Pulling out, she applied soft teasing suction, and repeated her deep throating. When she felt me draw close, she eased up on her ministrations, or pressed at the root of my shaft. When I looked down, I saw her watching me closely, enjoying the torture she was putting me through, her eyes laughing, teasing. She was having a great time making love to my cock. As I gritted my teeth, feeling the simmering in my balls slowly coming to a boil again, she eased up on her suction, and started to deep throat me. When I drew even closer, she went back to applying her lips gently around my shaft, sliding it between them, over her tongue, while she gently sucked. She used her fingers of one hand on my shaft, milking my shaft, while her other hand cradled my balls, rolling my nuts, and tickling my sack. Her tongue kept teasing the sensitive underside, helping to milk my cock. When she released me from her lips for a moment, I caught sight of my dick. The head was an angry looking purple, swollen, and after a tentative lick around it, she took it in her mouth again. My legs were starting to shake with the strain, and I was getting desperate to come. Little by little, she drew my pleasure out, her tongue and mouth became ever softer, teasing. I knew when I came it was going to be special. I just hoped my legs didn't give up first. As the tip of my cock hardened more, getting ready to unload, and the little hole flared open, she must have felt it throbbing with urgency, because the next thing she did was to use her tongue to play with the hole, making my balls lurch. Returning to caress the underside of the glans, and applying a soft suction, she pushed me over the edge. As my come traveled along the shaft, she moved her lips over it, letting the underside of my shaft slide over her tongue, all the way to the tip, while fondling my balls, and making me pump out more. I burst hard and fast in the first few seconds, and filled her mouth. She quickly swallowed, before continuing with her gentle suction and tongue action to the rhythm of my bursts, while playing with my balls, milking the rest of my come gently, with exquisite slowness out of my shaft. All my feelings were concentrated at that single point in my body. I wasn't sure how long it continued, but she kept up her actions, without making me overly sensitive, and it felt like I was pouring my insides through my cock. When I stopped pumping, and the outflow turned into a trickle, I let out a heavy groan through my clenched teeth. As I relaxed my jaw, it hurt, as if it was sore, and I realized I must have been gritting my teeth. When I managed to gather myself a bit, I realized my cheeks were wet. The pleasure had been too much, making me squeeze my eyes shut, forcing tears. I tried to massage my jaw and wipe my tears, but my legs were shaking like hell, and I was ready to collapse. Sarah was cupping my ass trying to support me, while she gently nursed on my cock, trying to get the last bit of cum trapped within the seminal canal, by milking it along the length of it. To steady myself, I had to hold onto her shoulders for a few minutes. When I caught my breath, I realized she still had me in her mouth, letting my cock rest without stimulating it. God, the way she sucked me was incredible, and I wondered if I would be able to get it hard again tonight. I wiped the tears, and massaged my jaw, opening and closing my mouth, trying to loosen the muscles. When she felt I was back to myself, she released me from her mouth and looked up. I could see specks of my cum around her lips, and chin. Probably my initial explosion had overwhelmed her. I had felt the force of the first bursts. At the time, I thought my balls would eject from the shaft; it had been that intense, even though she had been gently milking my cock as she took me over the edge. Holding onto her shoulders, I knelt in front of her, my legs still unsteady after the experience. Once my knees were firmly on the floor, I kissed her, hard, then softly. I could taste myself in her mouth and on her tongue, but after the pleasure she gave me, I didn't mind. When we surfaced, she was smiling, satisfied with the pleasure she had given me. "I thought you wanted to leave something for the rest of the night." "This was just to take the edge off, Mitch," she teased. "God, Sarah. I thought my balls would melt down and you'd be sucking them. One day I want to have children, if you let me keep my balls." "Good. That's almost how it felt with what you did to me." "So, this was a pay back." "Ahh, Mitch. After the pleasure you gave me, I wanted to return it. Now, we'll take a short break, and I'll feed you a little snack to get your strength back." "You're going to kill me tonight, aren't you?" "Me? No way. I'm not going to risk that. Not with Kathy watching over you. She'd skin me alive," she retorted. "But, you can kill me. I'd rather have you kill me than get skinned by her. I'm looking forward to your tender mercies." We shared several kisses, and I teased her breasts, before she pulled the hem of her sweater down. Finally catching our breath, we pulled up our underwear and jeans, before going to the kitchen. I was going to wash my face, but seeing Sarah hadn't, I decided to follow suit. It would be dirty, and decadent to sit in the kitchen smelling of each other. Taking my shirt and jacket off had been a lucky decision, otherwise, back at Kathy's place, I would have been a constant target of her teasing about how I smelled. If tonight's teasing was an indication, there was no need to supply more fuel to the fire. * * * * * CHAPTER - 16: Around the World... When we were in the kitchen, Sarah prepared two cups of hot chocolate with a large piece of pure chocolate on the side, then went about making sandwiches with peanut butter and honey, before joining me on the table. We finished the hot chocolate and she prepared another cup, before we started on the sandwiches. I had not noticed it before, but the kitchen was very warm, even with my undershirt on. It became clear when she casually took of her jeans, and her sweater, looking at me. When I raised an eyebrow, she smiled. "I put the heat up a little bit. You don't feel hot?" "Yeah, it's hot. I thought it was from the hot chocolate. So, what's next in the agenda?" I asked, grinning. "Nothing special. Just me, over and over again. Did you ever read _Around the World in 80 Days_?" she asked. Drawing a blank look with her strange question, she laughed and explained, "I have my own version, _Around Sarah in 80 Ways_. I think you'll enjoy the read, or whatever." I was almost on the floor, laughing hard at her twisted sense of humor. When I collected myself, she said, "I want you to get comfortable. Get naked, then we'll eat." Not one to disappoint a lady, I stood up and shed my clothes, while Sarah took off her panties as well. She motioned me to place the chair sideways to the table, and waited until I sat, then she sat on my lap, straddling me. She rose up a bit, to position my semi-hard cock between her thighs, rubbing against the lips of her pussy, and settled down. She fed me the sandwiches, bite by bite, pampering me, teasing me, and taking a few bites herself. In the meantime, she was oiling my cock with her dripping juices. I wanted to tease and work her up more, so when the sandwiches were finished, I took a sip from my hot chocolate and before she could react, I lashed her nipple with my hot tongue. Her nubbin was already hard, but my hot tongue made it swell that little bit extra. Then I started to lave her tit, interspersed with sips from the hot chocolate, and finally settled for a long teasing suck of her nipple. Her juices were copious, and I felt wet to my balls. I turned my attention to her other tit. Reaching out for the little tube of honey, I squeezed a cold dollop of it on her tit getting a small shriek and a giggle, then taking a sip from the hot chocolate I laved her tit, while licking off the honey. I finished with gentle sucks and bites of her nipple, making her moan and pant. The small kitchen table looked to be pretty sturdy. I had always wondered about sex in the kitchen, and things were going in the right direction. The only problem was, as usual, logistics, which was turning into a regular pain in the neck. The fucking condoms! So, I slowed my attentions. Sarah wasn't as far gone as she had been before, but she was pretty hot. When I slowed down, she realized something was not right, so we kissed, trying to cool off, but not too much. Then she gave me quizzical look. "Protection," I said. "Protection? You mean condoms?" I nodded. "I have some in my bedroom. Mitch, are you clean?" Was I clean? I didn't know that. Until Dana I had been careful. In all my amorous escapades she had been the only exception, mostly because I had trusted her. Seeing me in thought, she asked, "You had unprotected sex?" I nodded. "With your girlfriend?" I nodded again, while thinking about the situation. "Mitch, don't you know if she was clean or not?" she asked apprehensive, but she was worried about me. "I... I don't know for sure if she was clean. We both trusted each other, because of certain things we shared about ourselves. I've not been very active and had always been careful about it. Except her, that is. She's not the promiscuous type, and she was an ex-nurse. She told me she was careful about it, and had not been active for a long time. I had reason... I have reason to believe her." She gave me a soft kiss, cupping my face in her hands, then looking in my eyes, she said, "After what I heard from Kathy, I don't think you would have been involved with a cheap tramp. But, Mitch, you took an unnecessary risk. You realize that, don't you? It's easy to get a test done and enjoy yourself to the fullest afterwards." Then she put her hands on my shoulder, watching me. I knew she was right. In fact, both of us had taken an unnecessary risk. I didn't have anything against condoms, considering the alternative, but the feeling of flesh against flesh was something special. Damn it, I had acted like a horny little kid, and even Dana had acted like a teenage girl, and she had nurse training and was older than me, more experienced and knowledgeable about those things. Why did she do what she did? How could she trust me? But that begged the same question, why did I trust her? Did we give into our lust? No, we had shared quite a lot during our talk, and we felt something for each other, enough not to put each other at risk. We had been true to each other. Both of us were not the types to give in to sudden impulses, although that was possible of course. But our past, our histories indicated we were both cautious, burned enough, hurt enough, not to inflict another hurt to each other. "I think we better use the condoms, Sarah," I said, even though I was pretty sure I was clean. I didn't want her to worry about it. She was watching me carefully, mulling something in her mind. "Mitch, how recent is your relationship, if you don't mind my asking?" she asked. _Shit. I have another Kathy in my hands._ "Why do you ask that, Sarah? I told you I had unprotected sex. That makes me a risk factor." "It makes you a risk factor, if you don't know your partner's sexual history, and health. And that's usually when you're just starting a relationship." When I didn't reply, she continued, "Mitch, I don't want to grill you, OK? But what you're not saying tells me a lot. You must have met her very recently, and not known her for a long time, but you trust her. I know some things about you to understand that you don't give your trust to people easily. You brought up the protection yourself, so I know you're careful, even in the heat of passion. By the way, I'm very careful, too. I even got tested recently. Somehow you weren't careful with your girlfriend. Why? Unless, you have reason to believe her and trust her?" "Yes, I do." "Not only that, but she must have trusted you as well, unless she's not what she seems to be. And I doubt she's somebody like that. You said she was an ex-nurse, so that's another plus on her side. I'm just curious, Mitch. She must be something to steal your heart." I wasn't going to ask why she thought Dana was something special, as I was afraid of what was coming after that. It felt like I was talking to Kathy, except this was Sarah, a very naked, beautiful, and dripping wet Sarah. It felt wrong to talk about another woman, when she was sitting on my lap, naked. When I didn't reply, she kissed me, and then continued in her soft, melodic tone. "Kathy didn't tell me much, but I knew she was warning me about your past. That was before you met your new girl. She told me tonight, you were out of circulation. I'm not stupid, Mitch. I'm jealous of your new girl, however I'm not going to hold it against her. No. I just wish I had met the other one, the one that broke your heart. I would love to whip that bitch to make her pay for what she did to you." "Sarah!" I said, sharply, without realizing my tone was very hard, almost dangerous. For a moment she was taken back by my tone, instinctively recoiling, before she collected herself. I didn't want to frighten her, so I calmed down. I just couldn't believe the kind of talk I was having while she, a girl from my childhood and teenage years was sitting on my lap, naked. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. Her hands moved to cup my face, and she gripped me fiercely, surprising me with the strength in her hands and fingers. In that shocking split second, I realized, being an orthopedist, she had built up some strength. Otherwise, how were you going to set bones, even though you could get help from your fellow doctors? Looking at her naked form, there was no way I could tell she had the kind of strength she was displaying, but now, I saw her shoulders tense, and the muscles in her forearm become more pronounced. She had me in a secure grip, although she was being gentle. I wondered what was coming next. In contrast with the measured strength she was displaying, her gray eyes were soft, and moist with sadness. She kept her eyes on me, waiting for me to react. I relaxed myself further, trying to see what she would do. She didn't ease up a bit, but her eyes were getting more moist, and in a few minutes I was sure she would be crying. "Listen to me carefully, Mitch. If I was a conniving little shit, I would do my best to steal you from--what's her name?" "Dana," I whispered. "From Dana. You're a lucky man for two, no, three reasons. First, Dana. I wouldn't do something like that to _any_ woman. Second, I'm not in love with you, although I love you, in a different way. And third, Kathy." She gave a searching look to see how I took her explanation, and I gave a quick nod. She was mulling something in her mind, and after a short pause she said, "I need to ask something, Mitch. I don't know anything about what happened in the past, but your reaction tells me a lot. Please, don't take my question wrong, Mitch, but I'm wondering if Dana knows about your other girl?" "Why do you ask that?" I responded. "Because, you're my friend, Mitch, and based on your reaction I suspect you might have felt it necessary to talk about your past if your relationship is serious. I know that much about you." She waited, challenging me to deny it, her expression changing very little. When I didn't deny or respond, she prompted, "I'll take that as a yes." I wasn't sure what she was getting at, so I gave a short nod, confirming it. "Thank you. That means she knows how you feel about that little... about your other girl. You must love each other, if you've talked about something you react to so strongly, and yet, she accepts you. Dana is a girl you've met and love," she said pointedly, pausing dramatically. "Kathy is your sister, your blood." I knew that. From Kathy's reaction last night, she felt exactly the way Sarah had said. At least, I had started talking with Kathy. I wasn't sure if I would ever talk about the past or if it would be necessary, but it was too early for that. "Sarah, I know I haven't talked much with Kathy, but it's getting better, and it's complicated. Kathy knows it, now. I'm not going to hurt my sister." Pausing, I calmly added, "I'm not going to hurt your sister." Her grip didn't ease at all, but hearing what I said, she lowered her face and kissed me gently, then breaking the kiss she said, "Thank you, Mitch. This is between us. If you want to talk about your past, it will remain here. I hope nobody gets hurt, and that includes Dana as well." Straightening, she released her hold, putting her hands on my shoulder, and continued. "As I said, I'm not a conniving little shit. I just wish I could say I'm not going to ask more from you than what you've given me tonight, after learning how complicated your life is. But, I have to be true to myself; I want you. Tonight, and any night you want me; no strings attached. However, after what I just did, and considering your situation, I'll understand if you don't want to do anything the rest of the night." "I'm not going to hold it against you, Sarah. After all that is said and done, I'm more worried about hurting you. Let me worry about my life and my decisions." "You're worried I might fall in love with you?" I nodded. "Mitch, I don't easily fall in love. I am too horny for my own good and too independent. Maybe it's because I got over my shyness late, and am trying to catch up. I have a little problem with some of the guys, the ones that see a blonde bimbo, only, instead of the other things. But I'm getting good at recognizing those annoying bugs. At least, a few of them have been fun in the bed," she replied with a lecherous grin. "I'll settle down, eventually, but not now. Kathy and I are alike, but also different. Maybe that's why we get along so well. I'm pretty sure Kathy will locate the right guy for me before I do. Your sister looks after me. She always did, even when we were young. You're right, you know. She's my sister, the sibling I never had." "As you are her sister." "You knew that?" "It's hard to miss it, when you did what you did, Sarah. But I can't afford latitude to either of you. Don't take it the wrong way, but you've both been allowed too much, already." She was quiet for a while, thinking over what I said, but her gaze never wavered. "Yes. You're right. I'm sorry. I didn't want to stir things up. I guess it's rubbed off on me from Kathy." "I wonder how that happened?" I quipped, making her laugh and relaxing the atmosphere. "Hmmm... OK, let's stir something else. Why don't you use that stick, and stir my insides?" she came back. "I have twelve sticks. Which one are you talking about?" I asked with a grin, while displaying my hands with the fingers stretched, and extending my tongue. Giggling, she replied, "The big one that I'm marinating." "Oh, that one. Yeah, sure. Let me get some condoms." "Mitch, no need for that." "Sarah, I told you, I had unprotected sex." "I know that, Mitch. I also know what I'm doing is against what I just preached, but we both know the score there. In fact, if she's the kind of girl she is, she'll be already making arrangements for a test. I could book an appointment for you, for Tuesday. Are you interested?" "Yes, of course, but why?" "Well, it will solve several problems. You'll be able to tell Dana and prove you're clean, and I'll be also in the clear after what I'm planning to do tonight. That will save me a new test, but I'm not concerned. I told you I got tested recently. Dana will probably respond in kind if she hadn't already done something about it." "Why did you go to such lengths?" "You're still scared of me falling in love with you, aren't you? Relax. I'm pretty active, but careful about it. If any of my partners want to have sex without protection I have to trust them that they won't engage in casual unprotected sex with somebody else. Even though some of them tested clean I still insisted on condoms. I did the test after my last relationship just to be sure. Since then, my only companion had been my battery driven friends. It also worked nicely for us. If you were a serious risk factor, I would get you tested and hope for a second try, but I was ready to settle for protected sex. I enjoy flesh to flesh as much as a man. After what Kathy was telling me and not telling me, I guessed you weren't very active and probably being very careful about it. You were a pretty level headed and cautious guy, when we were young. I guess I'm a lucky girl." She was being very cautious about her sex life, but then she knew about the dangers more as a doctor. Then, she quipped, bringing us back to the subject at hand... umm... the marinated cock under her ass. "I think the oven is at the right temperature and the meat is marinated properly. It's time to get cooking." With a chuckle, I asked, "What are we cooking?" "Stuffed Sarah, of course. What did you think?" she retorted, without skipping a beat, and making me laugh. Getting serious, I asked, "You want to lie on the table or take the driver's seat and chauffer us?" "Hmmm... Good question... Just sit tight and let me drive. When I get tired, you can take over." She stood up, allowing me to pull the chair a bit further away from the table then straddled me again, guiding my cock slowly into her box, and lowered herself down, taking my whole length in a single stroke, and sat down on my lap. She was tight but not excessively, however, she was so wet, I had glided in without any difficulties. Holding onto my shoulder, she kissed me, and then started to rock herself, back and forth, stirring her insides with my cock. She kept the rocking motions and her wiggling interspersed with slow up and down motions. I cupped her ass cheeks and helped her with the up and down motions, as I couldn't do any moves myself due to the position except hunching up a little bit. The rocking motion was better, since I could contribute more, and that seemed to suit her as well. I wasn't sure how much stimulation she was getting from that back and forth, but it seemed to heat her up nicely. She locked her hands behind my neck and leaned back offering her tits, and letting me pull and push her ass while she tried to rock back and forth. I started to work on her tits with my lips and tongue, sometimes nipping her nipples gently with my teeth, and she seemed to enjoy my attentions. After a while she pulled herself to my chest, plastering her tits against my chest and we kissed. Her breath was coming in short gasps and pants, and her pussy was starting to get active. She didn't have Dana's muscle control, and I realized she was getting closer to her orgasm. "Can you take over? I'm close. I want to feel you stroke," she said. I managed to get off the chair, with her hanging on my neck, and my hands supporting her, cupping her shapely ass. As I stood up, she wrapped her legs around my waist, and I took a step to the table, and gently sat her ass on the edge of the table. She released her lock around my waist, but kept her knees up, her feet urging me to start stroking. While kissing deeply, I started to stroke into her, although I wasn't in a comfortable position. After the kiss, she half turned and pushed away the plate and our cups to the side of the table, and I gently draped her on the table. She shivered as her back made contact with the cold surface. Hooking her legs on my arms, I lifted them, but she put her ankles on my shoulders, allowing me a better position. While running my hands over her legs from her feet down to the top of her thighs, I took long, slow strokes, enjoying the way her tits shook. After a few minutes she closed her eyes, and started to pant and moan. Leaning over, I teased her tits, while stroking her at a steady pace, watching her reaction carefully. As my strokes became more powerful, her hands gripped the edge of the table, to prevent her body from sliding. The surface of the table had become slippery from her sweat. A small puddle was forming on the floor with her juices dripping from her ass at the edge of the table, and my balls were wet. Every time I stroked in, we could hear the wet slapping sound. Getting a good purchase on the edge of the table, she started throwing her ass at me, using her feet and ankles on my shoulders as support. I was surprised with her energy, but was enjoying it very much. I moved my hand to the top of her pussy, and started to work on her clitoral hood, pressing down, and massaging it. With the extra stimulation she started to falter in her efforts, and began moaning. I increased the pace of my stroking and felt her pussy go crazy, accompanied by a soft moan that turned into a wail. Even though she had sucked me off expertly, and had taken the edge off, I found myself getting close. I wanted to hold out to continue and make her cum a second time, but I realized I was too far gone to be able to stop myself. The visual stimulation was too much. After so many years, I had this beautiful girl's body draped on top of the table, shaking and trembling in orgasm, and screaming her pleasure. How many times had I imagined her body under mine while masturbating to the images conjured up in my mind's eye? As her pussy started its involuntary milking action, I gave in to the physical stimulation, without trying too hard. I kept up the long strokes to keep pleasuring her, and her milking action carried me over. After the first strong bursts, I stroked hard and deep, and stayed inside her, while working my thumb over the top of her pussy, and pumped the rest of my cum into her, while teasing and pulling on her nipple. It was something to watch her come; her chest, neck and face flushed deep red, her body thrashing on top of the table, eyes closed, and a soft moan escaping her half open lips. As she started to come down, I eased up with my massage of her clitoris, and stroked her belly, feeling the tremors, and my other hand stroked her tits, running over them softly, before I caressed her cheeks. Slowly she opened her eyes, which had a soft and lethargic look, instead of the burning passion and lust she had had the last few times. However, the gray color was tinted with a strange hue, and I realized she still had more lust hidden beneath that lethargy. I ran my hands from top of her thighs to her feet, feeling the trembling in her legs; the after effects of her fading orgasm coursing through them, the muscles tired from the strain. I moved her feet off my shoulder, supporting her legs on my arms under her knees, spreading her legs comfortably, and leaned in to kiss her. We had to break our kiss several times, because she was still out of breath. She was also starting to squirm, and I realized the edge of the table must be biting hard at her ass, so straightening up, I eased her along the length of the table, and getting a grateful look for my efforts. "It was starting to hurt. I didn't feel it before, but now, it was getting uncomfortable." I leaned over her body, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, and locked her feet on my lower back, securing me over her. We kept kissing and caressing each other, enjoying the feel of each other's body. For the first time, I noticed how her eyes changed color, perhaps because of the angle the ceiling lights hit them; she had blue-green tints distributed unevenly, even though the gray was the predominant color. As I looked at her, I could hardly believe that I had just finished making love to this beautiful girl, who had been a good friend, but also the leading star of my masturbation fantasies. _Maybe there's a God somewhere, after all._ Now, I understood better, what it was like to fantasize and then have your fantasies realized. I hadn't thought of Sarah over the years, but she had. Compared to what I felt now, what she felt must have been much more. I could understand why she had reacted the way she did in her bedroom. "What are you thinking, Mitch?" she asked softly. I didn't realize I was lost in thought, until I heard her question. "That there was perhaps a God, after all," I replied, with a small smile. When she heard it, she smiled back. "I guess. If I had known he was around and listening I would have come with a list," she quipped. "I think you come quite vocal, Sarah, not with a list. If he heard your screaming, he would be deaf by now," I retorted. She started to laugh, and I felt her quivering tits rub against my chest, exciting me. When her laughter subsided, she said, "I don't believe how much we both changed, Mitch. Here I am, freshly fucked and we're trading jokes. I would have never imagined something like that." "I guess that's what happens when a clown and a beautiful singer who butchers songs with an awful voice get together," I quipped, making her laugh again. This time however, she was laughing too hard and I got dislodged from her snug and juicy pussy. "Damn. You see what you did?" she complained good naturedly. Then, we heard a soft splatter, the unmistakable sound of trapped fluids dripping on to the floor, joining the small puddle that was already there. "Nope, but I heard it!" I quipped. She shrieked before starting to laugh again. When she calmed down, we kissed, this time with a gentle passion. "You are fun, Mitch. You were such a quiet, shy boy, and now... I still can't believe the trick you pulled at the door, and then in the kitchen." "I'm not sure what I pulled can be called a trick, but a prick," I said, giving her a mischievous look. She tried to hold herself from breaking into laughter, but started to shake again in amusement. "Give me a break, Mitch. I plastered the floor with our juices, but I don't want to pee." "Our juices, OUR JUICES..." I intoned, with a feigned indignation. "Stop it, you rat! I'm going to pee the whole place down." "Hmmm... Golden showers? I heard about them, but never experienced them. Kinky!" I teased. "Please, don't. I'm really going to pee the place," she said, trying to control her laughter, and I realized, she was serious. So I kissed her, while caressing her to calm her down. "You want to get up?" I asked. When she nodded, we disengaged, and I helped her to her feet, being careful not to let her step onto the puddle and slip. When she looked down, she was surprised, and chuckled in amusement, and she was still dripping our juices, her thighs had wet tracks. "Why don't you run a bath for us, while I clean the table and floor?" I asked. "Just give me a few minutes, and I'll do it, Mitch." She looked like she needed to visit the bathroom. "Come on, Sarah. It's no big deal. Do you want to stay here and water the floors?" I quipped. "Don't. You rat." "I can tickle you, you know, if you stay here a bit longer," I teased. Then with a serious tone, I added, "Sarah, I really don't mind it. Go ahead. While you're there, draw us a hot bath." Seeing I was serious, she nodded her agreement, then gave a soft kiss, saying, "You're a dear, Mitch. Check the fridge. There should be a bottle of champagne. When you're finished, bring it over." "Umm... Do you mind white wine instead of champagne?" "Sure, much better. There should be a Chardonnay in there, somewhere." When she left for the bathroom, I cleaned the table, the floor and the chair I was sitting earlier on. Satisfied everything was spotless, I rummaged in her fridge, and got the bottle of Chardonnay. I prepared a tray with the glasses and the wine and went to the bathroom. Sarah was sitting on the edge of the tub, waiting for it to fill. From the looks of her, she had washed herself before filling the tub. She reached and closed the toilet seat cover, so that I could set the tray on it. I filled the glasses and gave her one. The tub was almost half filled, so she stepped in, and sat at one end. I followed her, and she asked me to sit opposite to her. Once I was settled comfortably, she slid down, and put her feet on my chest, getting comfortable. With her tits still out of water, and her shapely feet on my chest, she wiggled her dainty toes, teasing my nipples. She knew how she looked and how to slowly tease and arouse. When the tub was filled up to her satisfaction, she reached for the taps and closed them. Putting my glass aside on the floor, I took hold of a foot, and massaged it, making her moan with pleasure. When she closed her eyes, I played with her toes, and licked them making her shriek with surprise, her eyes opening. Her eyes were starting to glitter with lust again. She was not only a blonde bombshell but a simmering sex pot, already getting heated up by that little teasing, so I eased up, and returned massaging her feet and toes, sensually. While I was busy with her foot, her other foot was busy, teasing me, working up and down my chest and going all the way down to stimulate my cock. I was getting a nice stiffy from her attentions. After a while I switched to her other foot, as she continued to play with me using her foot. In the meantime, she was caressing her tits and teasing her nipples, giving me a visual banquette. When her nipples were as hard as they could get, her hand dived between her legs, no doubt to stir her honey pot. After several long minutes, she was getting worked up, so she slowed down, not to go too fast, and enjoy sharing the bath. "Sarah, honey. Why don't you move over here?" I sat up a bit, pulling my knees and spreading them, to give her a comfortable seat. She gave me her glass and I put it down next to mine on the floor, while she moved between my legs, with her back resting on my chest. My cock was trapped against the top part of her ass. As she rested her head on my shoulder, I started to massage her tits. Reaching around I took my glass and sipped my wine, while caressing and playing with her body. "You know what, I can spend the rest of the night here, like this," she said softly. "Are you tired?" I asked, surprised by her statement. "Oh, no. I'm still horny, but this is nice. There are a few things we still have to do, but this is a nice break," she said, cryptically. "What kinda things?" "Oh, you'll see. There's no hurry." Turning her head, she kissed me, then asked, "Can you make me cum slowly?" So I gently worked on her pussy. I didn't know what she was planning, however I didn't want to work her pussy hard and make it sore while trying to make her come. Feeding her sips of wine from my glass, and with occasional kisses, I worked her tits and pussy gently until she was on the brink. Before I could take her over, she stopped me. Raising up, she grabbed my already hard cock, and slid it inside her. Once she was settled down comfortably on my lap, I continued working on her pussy, and ever so slowly brought her over, feeling her pussy spasm, and a gentle orgasm coursing through her. The only sound she made was a quiet moan, as her body trembled and shivered. Unlike her other orgasms, this was protracted, and long, but not as strong or sharp as her earlier ones. When it was over, she sighed. We shared a long sensual kiss, then continued to drink our wine, finishing our glasses. I was still hard, throbbing inside her, but I was nowhere near coming. It was a pleasant feeling to be connected to her like that. * * * * * (continued in next part, 5/5) <4th attachment end> <5th attachment, "tfauc-pt-04.txt" begin> Title: Tales from an Unknown Corner Chapters: 17-20 (of 20) Author: Dai_wakizashi Universe: Tfauc Summary: Journey of a troubled young man looking for a path and people around him, who, at times, give shape to his journey. Codes: MF, FF, MFF, oral, anal, toys, petting, romance, drama Status: in progress Revision: 2.0 Web Sites: ASSTR- http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/dai_wakizashi/www/ SOL- http://storiesonline.net/home.php EWP- http://www.ewpub.org/ewpub.html Discussion Forum: http://www.ewpub.org/messageboard/viewforum.php?f=76 ***************************************************************** STANDARD DISCLAIMER This piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment. It contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT read any further. All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to any persons, places, individuals or situations is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities described in this story. This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author, Dai_wakizashi (dai_wakizashiAThotmailDOTcom). This story may be freely distributed with this disclaimer attached. Copyright (c) 2003-2004 Dai_wakizashi. All rights reserved. ***************************************************************** TALES FROM AN UNKNOWN CORNER [Tfauc] CHAPTER - 17: The Trip Continues The water in the tub was warm and soothing. Apparently my hands were also soothing, prompting Sarah to say, "You have magical hands, Mitch. Do you mind if I ask you something?" "Depends on the question, Sarah." "You haven't been with many women, have you?" "I think you know the answer to that question, Sarah. Why do you ask?" "You're very good. How come?" "Umm... I don't think I'm that good, Sarah. I just enjoy giving pleasure, because it's part of the pleasure I take from my partner." "Oh, no, Mitch. You're good. I don't mean you are world's best lover, but you know what you're doing. I'm curious where or how did you learn... since you haven't been around... like that thing you've done a while ago, with your fingers..." "Oh, that... Heh. Would you believe if I said I read about it?" "Really? Where?" "In one of those men's magazines. They don't contain only pictures of naked girls, but have some interesting articles. Like all men, I enjoy sex, and I've always been curious once I discovered what sex is. I think I must have read a lot. When you are shy and curious you do what you can to satisfy your curiosity. I guess it helped." "I'd say... I never came that strong in my life. I think you found my G-spot." "I guess. I don't remember all the names and such, except the common knowledge things. When I had read about it, I had labeled it as the ON switch." "Very funny, Mitch," she retorted, indignantly. "I'm not trying to be funny, but you have to admit, it acts like that." Laughing, she said, "Yeah, I guess you have a point there." "Oh, I don't have a point, but you have a spot," I retorted. "Don't start again, Mitch. I'll make you regret it, even if it means Kathy will skin me alive," she warned, with a soft laugh. "Not before I make you pee," I challenged. "You probably could, but as I said. I'll make you regret it. I know a great deal about male anatomy. Tonight is for fun, not for challenges." "OK. Let's talk about something interesting." "Like what?" "I think you'll like this, since you said you were a horny little thing and like to fantasize. Tell me fantasies you have, or the kinky things you like to do." When she heard that, she twisted slightly to turn and look at me, her eyes glittering with... I didn't know what, but she seemed amused. Then, she leaned to the side of the tub, to face me comfortably. However, she immediately recoiled from the cold feel of the tub. I put my arm around her, and nudged her to lean against my arm to my side. She rearranged herself on my lap, and settled against my arm and chest, in a half sideways sitting position. "You're bad, Mitch. A real bad boy," she said, with a fake rebuking tone. "You'll experience one or two tonight, so I'd rather not talk about it. We already did the big one." "Yeah, we did, didn't we? God, I never expected that. OK, so that covers the fantasies. What about kinks? You don't have any?" She laughed. "Getting impatient?" Her eyes kept its gaze on my face, amused, teasing. "I can wait. I'm just curious. In many ways you're a wild girl, Sarah. I'm pretty sure you have a wild imagination. Perhaps, I'm thinking you're a wild girl, because you've changed so much from that shy girl." "You're not bad yourself, Mitch. You were the one who started the whole tampon scene, not me, although it was one of my fantasies." "Oh, I'm plain vanilla type guy. It was just a spur of the moment thing." "If that was a spur of the moment thing, then you have real potential. It takes one to know one," she came back, making me laugh. Her eyes got distant, and she was quiet for a while making me wonder what she was thinking. "A penny for your thoughts," I prompted her. "Make it a dollar, and you've got it," she retorted, making me chuckle. "Done! So, what's on your mind, Sarah?" "I was wondering when I'll find a skilled partner like you again." Then she looked up, and I could see the lust in her eyes. With a smile, she said, "I wish I knew your girl friend." "Why do you say that?" I was surprised with her comment and curious. "I don't know. You asked about fantasies and kinks. I've done some things, but have never been in a relationship where I shared a guy with another woman. If I knew her and felt she wouldn't mind, I would probably gather my courage to ask to borrow you, now and then." "Mmmm... That's most men's fantasy; to have several beautiful girls at his beck and call. I didn't think girls would be interested in such a thing." "Oh, that's because women are competitive when it comes to their men. Unless they're very secure, and have similar fantasies. And if they were scared of sharing, such a relationship wouldn't work." "I guess. I'm curious, Sarah. Would you do something with a woman or is it just sharing the guy with another woman?" "You have a very dirty mind, Mitch," she replied with an admonishing tone. Her mind was busy, and after a short pause she added, "It's just sharing the guy, although... I have thought about women... but never did anything about it. I don't know. I never felt like experimenting with a woman." "Well, I have to admit, there's something very erotic and appealing about seeing two women together." My dick throbbed at the image of Sarah with another woman, locked in a hot 69. Of course she felt it and started to laugh. "You're kinky, Mitch. I can feel how your dick throbs at the thought of me with another woman. Who's the other woman?" "I don't know. It's kinda blurry image of you and some unknown woman locked in a hot 69." Her eyes got a bit glassy, as if she was trying to look at herself in that imaginary scene. Her eyes focused back on my face, and I could see she was heated up. The idea didn't turn her off. "So, what was happening in your imaginary scene?" I asked, with a grin. "I rather not say," she replied, with a lecherous grin. "Wow. If you're getting bashful with a little bit of an imaginary scene, it must be really something. Now, I'm curious," I teased. "Oh, the scene was hot, but I'm not getting bashful about it. I'll tell you, later. Then, you'll understand." "OK. Shall we retire to the bed? We're going to turn into prunes." "Yes, the bed will be more comfortable." While I collected the glasses and the wine bottle, and returned them to the kitchen, Sarah went to the bedroom. Thinking about how thirsty she got after sex, I took two big bottles of water from the fridge, and put them on the tray with two glasses, taking the tray to her bedroom. She had the comforter neatly folded and placed on the chair and was picking up a large towel from her wardrobe. When she saw the tray, she smiled. "Thank you, Mitch. Can you fold the blanket and the sheet and put them at the foot of the bed? The room is warm. I'll turn the heat down later." I set the tray on the night stand, and gathered the blanket and the sheets, stacking them at the foot of the bed. She unfolded the big towel until it was double folded and put it in the middle of the bed, while explaining, "I don't want to sleep in a wet spot, and the way I juice up, it's almost impossible not to have a big wet spot." She took out a few small towels and stacked them next to the tray on the night stand. The biggest surprise was, when she opened the drawer, and took out two plastic, cylindrical objects--vibrators. One was fatter than the other. Turning them on, she tested the batteries, then placed the fat one back into the drawer, leaving the slim one out. Then, she took out a tube of lubricant. I was wondering what she was planning, seeing the items. When she saw me watching her, she quipped with a teasing smile, "Want me to try this on you?" "No, thank you very much! What are you planning?" "Patience, my dear. You'll see." Moving to the middle of the bed, she arranged herself on her back, knees up, legs spread, and invited me between them. As I moved into position she took hold of my cock, and guided me in, without waiting for foreplay. I guess she was ready. When I was seated deeply in her, supporting myself over her body on my arms, she said, "Try to make it last as long as possible. I'm going to use the vibrator on my clit. I want to come a few times, with you inside me. I don't know if I'll ever get you in my bed again, and I want to make the most of it. Do you mind that I'm being so greedy?" "Sarah, you're not greedy, just hungry," I replied earnestly. "I told you I enjoy pleasuring my partners. I want you to take your pleasure anyway you want. I love watching you come. You look so beautiful..." She smiled, and pulled me for a kiss. After releasing me, she reached for the vibrator and took it. She started by running it around her tits and nipples, before moving it down to the top of her pussy. In the meantime, I started to thrust into her at a slow pace using long and deliberate strokes. It didn't take her long to reach her first orgasm. One moment she was panting and gasping, the next squealing her pleasure. I enjoyed watching her lose control, and a few minutes later her second orgasm crashed. Her snug pussy was getting tighter with the involuntary muscle spasms, helped along by the sharpness of her orgasms, and I luxuriated in the sensations imparted by her slick channel and the milking actions of her pussy. During the next half hour she had several small orgasms one after another, and I was amazed at her stamina, and how she managed to keep up. It was quite a turn on and I was getting there, now that her pussy was so active. Not only that, but because she was juicing up so much, her smell was all around us, making me dizzy. I noticed she was keeping the vibrator less and less around her clitoris. As she started to get closer to another orgasm, I realized I was very close to my own impending explosion. I slowed down my strokes and she opened her eyes, questioning. "I'm getting there, Sarah." Shutting the vibrator, she put it aside, and pulled me for a kiss. "Can we change position?" she asked. "I want to try doggy." I pulled out of her, sitting on my heels, waiting for her to get into position. Before she moved onto her hands and knees, she licked her juices from my cock, and gave a few soft sucks. Turning around, she reached, and took the lubricant. "When I'm in position, use this on my backside, then lubricate the vibrator, and work it in there." Sarah was full of surprises. I never had a girl who was into anal play, although I've read about it. Getting into position, she raised her ass, spreading her legs, then lowered her upper body and chest to the bed, resting her head on her crossed arms. The view was great. She had a perfectly shaped ass, with her brown hole and dripping pussy in wanton display of feminine beauty. I must have been lost in the view, because, she asked, "Something wrong?" "Oh, no! Enjoying the view. Very much so." She smiled and said, "Good. You'll enjoy what's coming next much better. I love to be fucked, while getting my ass plugged with a vibrator. It's one of my kinks." "Mmmm. Sounds good. I'm sure it will feel great as well." I took the vibrator and lubed it, and was going to start lubricating her brown hole, but seeing it winking there, looking so clean, I decided to get adventurous. Putting the lubricant aside, I leaned and licked her pussy from her clitoris to the perineum, making her gasp. Spending few minutes enjoying her pussy, I moved to work on her perineum. She must have enjoyed it, because she was giving short sharp screams and moans. Getting hold of her cheeks, I spread them further, taking a good look at her little hole. It was crinkly with very little hair around, light brown in color, and looked very tight. It was pulsing in anticipation. I blew air over the center of it, and she gasped with the light, teasing stimulation. "Oh, God! Mitch," she moaned. I was surprised how responsive she was, so I started to lick her around her hole, teasing her further, while blowing gently over the center, eliciting more moans and gasps of pleasure. When I finally centered my tongue on her hole, she shrieked, pushing her ass back, looking for more stimulation. There wasn't really any taste, just the taste and smell of her pussy juices that had leaked and collected around her ass, when she had been on her back. Curious, I tried to push my tongue, and succeeded to penetrate her a bit, getting it nipped by her tight ring. It felt hot and tight inside her ring, and I wondered how it would be like to have my cock there, the thought making my cock throb. She seemed to enjoy anal play, but I didn't know if she liked a cock there. The vibrator she had was much slimmer than my cock, although I wasn't large by any means (a healthy seven inches of average thickness), but compared to the slim vibrator I was larger. As she felt my tongue wiggling in her hole, she started to push back more, while giving little yelps of pleasure, her body trembling and shivering with the stimulation. "Gimme... Ughh... so good...tongue fuck me... give it to me..." As she started a litany of obscenities, and got more verbal, broken by her moans and shrieks, I picked up the vibrator, and slowly pushed it inside her pussy, making her scream. When I turned it on and pumped it in and out of her pussy, and kept tonguing her tight little hole, she went crazy. I saw her upper body come off the bed, her head thrown back. A second later, she screamed her pleasure without holding back. Her little ring snapped on my tongue, for a short moment, before it went through flutters, gripping and releasing its hold on my tongue. My hands and fingers got wet from the juices leaking from her pussy, as the vibrator churned it into a frenzy. When her scream faded into a long moan, I slowed down my strokes into her pussy, while my tongue kept wiggling in her asshole, drawing her pleasure out. With a long sigh, she let her upper body fall onto the bed, suddenly overcome with the strain of her orgasm. I eased my attentions, and pulled the vibrator out, eliciting a sharp gasp, but kept caressing around her pussy, while licking and kissing her on her ass cheeks with occasional kisses and licks around her hole, to bring her down slowly. After a while, she stretched her legs, and rolled onto her back, asking me to lie down next to her. When she could manage, she smiled. "God, Mitch. You drove me crazy. That last one was too strong. I need to catch my breath before we do anything more." I kissed her and gathered her in my arms, and she moved over my chest, cuddling with me, breathing still hard, as she rested. I could feel her heart beat strong and fast, hinting how strong her orgasm must have been. After a while, she was feeling better, so I sat up, and pulled her to my lap. She reached for a glass and a bottle of water, but she was feeling pretty weak, so I helped her with a glass of water. Once she satiated her thirst, she was perky. "I loved what you did, Mitch, but you messed up my plans. I'm not complaining, mind you. You took me by surprise and I really loved it. Not many men would do that. I want to pleasure you but I need a break." "Oh, I enjoyed myself, Sarah. It was a real turn on to see you go crazy. I almost came just because it was so exciting. We still have the rest of the night and the better part of the morning. I can wait." "Oh, no. We will not wait. Not too long, unless you're tired." "I'm fine, but I'm worried about you. You need a break." "Yeah, I do, but not before you fuck me to pieces. Then we can sleep and rest. I wanted to have another one of my kinks done, but that has to wait. I don't think I'll be able to handle it now." "What were you planning?" I asked, curious. "I wanted to get my ass ready for a leisurely ass fuck. I wanted you to fuck me and come in my pussy, while working the vibrator in my ass. I enjoy an occasional ass fuck. It's something I rarely get to do, and even then usually with my vibrator, so I'm pretty tight back there. I wanted you to come, so that you could last longer there. I don't know why, but I come more intensely during anal play, however, I don't think I'll be able to handle it now." "I think we should postpone that till later. I don't think I'll last too long, even though I came a few times." "But I still want you to fuck me. Let me take the edge off, and we'll do that." So, she pressed on the root of my dick, while giving a slight but not painful squeeze to my balls. Getting on all fours, she shook her ass in invitation. "Lubricate me and use the vibrator, then fuck me. Don't worry about holding back, because I'm still hot." It took me a few minutes to get her little hole lubricated and then plugged with the vibrator. Once it was in place, I slid my cock into her pussy, which was tighter than before, due to the vibrator in the next channel. As I bottomed in her pussy, I turned on the vibrator. Even with the lowest setting, I could feel the vibrations on my cock, and they were strong enough to get Sarah moaning in pleasure again. The next twenty minutes were exquisite pleasure, as I stroked into her pussy, which was very tight and already starting its erratic palpitations. What's more, the vibrations worked into her pussy and added to the sensations my cock was being subjected to. As I got closer to releasing the pressure that was building up, I rotated and stroked the vibrator into her ass. Sarah responded with shakes and trembles at the extra stimulation, and she was getting more and more vocal, yelping, and shouting, urging me to fuck her faster. When my balls contracted, getting ready to pump their contents, I pulled back--almost out of her pussy--and gave a brutal thrust, making her scream, as I repeated the same with the vibrator. That pushed her over the brink, and she came with a loud scream. As she kept crying out her pleasure, and wailing, her body was going through contortions, and it looked like the trembles and shakes would almost tear her to pieces. Her orgasm was that strong. Of course, her pussy was also very active, going through its muscle spasms, gripping me strongly and then releasing me, urging my balls to give up the boiling cum with their insistent milking action. The sensation quickly overwhelmed me. With a groan I came, with hard and strong spurts. Even though I had come a few times, and thought I didn't have much to give, I must have had some more left in me, and I pumped out what little was left in my balls very quickly. Although I didn't have much, my cock kept throbbing, trying to pump non-existent fluids, while my balls went through their muscle spasms, helped along by the vibrations spilling over from her other channel. It was a short but a very strong orgasm, making me grit my teeth with pleasure. Long after my throbs ceased, Sarah was still going on strong. She seemed to have difficulty catching her breath, and it took me a while to realize that the vibrator in her ass was still on, and prolonging her pleasure. Lost in my own pleasure, I had forgotten about it. I was almost tempted to keep it running, and pump it in and out of her hole, to keep pleasuring her; it was such a turn on to see her completely lost in her pleasure. However, I took pity and turned off the vibrator. Then slowly, with short in and out strokes, I started to pull it out, watching her little hole work at the plastic shaft, grabbing and releasing its hold on it. She seemed to enjoy what I was doing, and despite her trembling, she responded by pushing her ass back to get more of the stimulation. Without the vibrations, she wasn't getting overwhelmed, so I kept working the vibrator in and out, until her orgasm ran its full course, and tapered down. When she grew quiet, I noticed her little ring wasn't as active as it had been. Gently, I pulled the vibrator out. It came out with a suction sound, making my cock throb with the anticipation of how it would feel inside that little hole. But, I was beat up, and in need of a long break and rest. My balls needed to recuperate, as well. They were feeling a bit tight, almost sore from the workout. Wrapping an arm around her belly, I nudged Sarah, so that she could stretch her legs, but she was still feeling the after effects of her orgasm, so I had to wait a while until she collected herself. "Sarah, honey. Stretch your legs, so we can cuddle and rest." She moaned her agreement, and with my help stretched her legs, letting me lower her to the bed, without breaking our connection. Even though I had come very hard, I was semi-erect, and I wanted to stay inside her. Once I was on top of her, I rolled us to our sides, and spooned behind her, caressing her body, getting appreciative sighs for my efforts. When my hand was caressing her tits, she took hold of it, and bringing it to her lips, she kissed it softly, before letting me continue caressing her. She was still lethargic, unable to speak. While I kept on running my hand over her body, she fell asleep. The lethargy of fulfilling sex had me in its grip, too, so cupping her tit, I closed my eyes. * * * * * I came awake, a bit groggy, having dozed off for a short while. My internal clock was telling me it hadn't been more than half an hour. When my senses came fully awake, I realized I woke up to the damp coldness of the towel on the bed, even though the room was still warm. I remembered neither of us had put the heat down. Sarah was still asleep and we were uncoupled, my cock resting against my thigh. I didn't want to wake up Sarah, but I decided to clean us. Carefully, I got off the bed, and took one of the small towels and went to the bathroom. After washing and cleaning myself in the shower quickly, I dried myself. I didn't have my toothbrush with me, so I had to improvise using my finger and toothpaste, performing my dental hygiene. She had some mouth wash, which I used to complete my ablutions. With the hot water running, I prepared a hot towel for Sarah, using the small hand towel I brought in. Back in the bedroom, I gently rolled Sarah on her back. Although I took care not to wake her up, she came awake when she came in contact with the wet and cold spot on the big towel. She was still half asleep and groggy, so I helped her move to a dry spot, and using the hot towel, I cleaned the insides of her thighs and her pussy, before drying her with another small towel. Lifting her ass by hooking my arm under her knees, I pulled the big towel from under her. I collected the dirty towels and dropped them in the laundry basket in the bathroom. In the living room, I located the controls for the thermostat, and set them down to a comfortable but cooler 18 C. When I got back to her bedroom, I found her sitting up, and awake, drinking water from a glass. Her eyes were still sleepy, though. When she saw me, she perked up visibly, and with a grateful but amused smile she asked, "Do you always pamper your lovers?" "Sarah, love, this is not pampering. I woke up to the wet spot on the towel and thought I should make us both comfortable. Waking you up wasn't in the plan though," I replied, as I got in the bed, and sat next to her. She moved in to cuddle, entwining her legs with mine, and putting her head on my shoulder. Kissing me on my neck, she said, "You're a dear, Mitch. I was so tired... I barely managed to sit up." "How are you feeling?" "Great, but I'm worn out. I'm still hungry for more, but I need to get some rest." "God, Sarah. Are you really horny?" "Just wanted to see your reaction. I'm not horny anymore," she replied, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "You're wicked." "No, I'm not. Greedy maybe, but that has to wait. Ready to sleep?" "Yeah. I set the thermostat to 18 C, is that all right?" She nodded, before adding, "But we'll need the blanket. It will get cold." She reached over and put her glass on the tray, then slid down the bed to pick up the sheets and the blanket. Turning to me, she asked, "There's a night lamp in the drawer. Can you put it into the wall socket?" Putting the night light on, I got into the bed. My feet came into contact with the vibrator we had forgotten about, so I picked it up, and put it on the towels on the night stand, and turned off the light. After we shared a kiss, she asked me to lay on my back. Then, she molded herself to the side of my body; one arm over my chest, and a leg thrown over mine, between my legs, resting her head on my shoulder, letting me cuddle her in a comfortable half embrace. As she caressed my chest with her hand in a lazy manner, I stroked her body. We both fell asleep. * * * * * CHAPTER - 18: Two Sisters When I woke up the next morning, I felt rested. It was sometime around early to mid morning, and I was on my side, with Sarah spooning behind me, her soft breath warming my back. She was sound asleep. As usual, after all the drinks last night, I needed a pit stop. That was going to be a problem, because I was sporting a morning woody, which surprised me after all the activity of last night. I had had a good night's sleep and was fully awake, feeling very much relaxed, and wanted to start the day. Because of the early hours I woke up on the rig-site, it took me a few days before my body adapted to the vacation mode. I must have been tired from all the activity and the alcohol I had consumed to sleep this late. I decided to get up, put on some coffee, and prepare something light to eat. I was in a domestic mood, wanting to pamper Sarah. I took the tray with the glasses and the bottles of water, and headed to the kitchen. Passing the living room, I turned up the thermostat to warm the flat. In the kitchen I put the bottles of water in the fridge and set the coffee maker on. While the coffee was perking, I did my morning ablutions, with a quick shower in the bathroom. A half hour later I was back in the kitchen with a towel wrapped around me. The flat was still a bit cold, but warming up fast. Rummaging in the fridge, I checked what Sarah had that I could use to prepare something light. She had some fruit, which I could use to prepare a fruit salad, but I was looking for something salty, like cheese. Finally, tucked in a corner I located feta cheese, and... surprise, surprise... a box of olives; not the green cocktail olives, but black olives. _Black olives. A girl after my heart. She's a true child of the Mediterranean._ Taking stock of my finds I decided to prepare a fruit salad using apples, mandarins, oranges, and of all things, bergamot (another surprising find, which confirmed my suspicions that she was really a child of the Mediterranean). Because bergamot was a bitter fruit (almost like grapefruit, with a great aroma), I decided to use a few slices of it to give flavor and aroma to the whole concoction. I cut off a small chunk and peeled it. I also cleaned a few apples, oranges and mandarins, chopped everything into small pieces and mixed the whole lot in a big bowl. It was quite bitter so, to sweeten the mix, I sliced two bananas, put a dollop of honey on them, and mixed them in. I liked the taste, sweet and sour with a bitter bite that lingered, and juicy at the same time. I wondered whether Sarah's taste buds would agree with mine, because it was a unique and unorthodox mixture. _Well, she can put the bergamot pieces aside. The rest still tastes great._ Getting myself a cup of coffee, I started on the toast. When it was ready, I buttered the slices, distributed them between two plates, and added cheese and olives on the side. Getting two small bowls from the cupboard, I filled them with the fruit salad. The last item was cups of coffee. Putting everything on a tray, I took it to her bedroom. When I placed the tray on the nightstand, she was awakening. Leaning over, I kissed her to wake her up. She stretched, then ran her hand through her hair and grimaced. Her hair was tousled, well, more than tousled, but she looked beautiful. I never understood the female obsession with how they looked in the morning. Maybe some of them had cause for concern, but Sarah definitely didn't belong in that group. Sure, she looked sleepy, her hair was messed up, but she also had a rested, relaxed look, with a beautiful glow to her skin. When she sat up, I said, "Good morning, beautiful. Breakfast is served." "Beautiful? I must look like a scarecrow, Mitch. Get your eyes checked." "Ahh! Already fishing for compliments, I see." That quip got a smile, and woke her up completely. "Coffee?" "Mmm hmm." After a few sips of her coffee she said, "A good morning to you too. What a way to wake up." "Part of the service, Ma'am," I retorted, with a grin. "I'm not going to ask what service that is," she replied, flashing me an amused smile. "What's on the menu?" "A fruit salad, and toast with cheese and olives." "Sounds good." After she finished her cup, she took her fruit salad. Giving it a sniff, she gave me a look, questioning. "You'll not be poisoned. I can guarantee that," I said, digging into my own bowl of fruit salad. She took a spoonful, doing a taste test, and finding it satisfactory, she started to eat. When she was finished, she asked, "Did you use the bergamot?" "A small chunk. Why?" "I thought I tasted it. Interesting choice. I liked what you did with it. I hope there's enough bergamot left." "You were going to use it for something else?" "No, it was for your sister. She's going to make orange jam, but she needs the bergamot to give it a bite. Makes it taste less sweet. Last year she gave me a jar of it, and it was delicious, so I thought I would get her the bergamot and get another jar of her orange jam." "Oh, I didn't know she did that. That's Mom's recipe. She knows I don't eat jam, because it's too sweet for my taste, even though she uses very little sugar. When she discovered the bergamot, she came up with that recipe, and it was great. I think the only sweet thing I can eat at breakfast is honey." "Me, too. I can eat honey, but not any of the jams, especially from the supermarkets. Too sweet and not enough fruit. Maybe I should take the bergamot to your mom," she replied with a smile. "Sure, if you have a death wish." "Your mom still teases Kathy about her cooking?" I nodded. "They're on each other's case whenever one of them comes up with something new." "Kathy is a very good cook." "That maybe so, but she learned it all from Mom." "You're prejudiced." "I won't deny that. But then, I'm a better cook than Kathy." "I remember. You used to spend hours in the kitchen with your mom. I always thought how strange to see you there, instead of Kathy. What got you interested in cooking?" "Self preservation," I quipped, making her laugh. "Come on, be serious," she responded, when she caught her breath. "I liked Mom's cooking, and I didn't want to rely on a second hand imitation of her cooking from somebody less skilled. So, I decided to learn. It's a pretty relaxing activity; as long as you don't have to do it every day." "Yeah. If you have to cook every day, it turns into a chore." While we were chatting, she was finishing her toast with the cheese and olives. Seeing me watch her eat, she raised an eyebrow. "I'm curious. You seem to like olives, for breakfast. I don't know any people that do that." "I like them, but mostly in a salad. Same with the feta. I don't mind them for breakfast. Next time, try a bit of oregano on feta, it tastes much better. You know, my grandpa is from the islands. He uses oregano, olive oil and lemon twist on the olives. I guess I got used to olives and feta from him, when I was very young." "I'll keep that in mind. So, you're a child of the Mediterranean." She laughed. "Kind of. I wasn't even born along the coast. But it's in the blood." "Hmmm... Talking about blood... Is that why you're so hot blooded?" "Maybe," she replied, letting out another soft laughter. "No, not really. It depends on the person and how much they turn me on. With you there was pent up lust and hunger as well. I've never been like that before." She ran her hand through her hair, and then her nostrils flared as if she got a whiff of something. She bent her head sniffing, trying to find if she smelled, then grimaced. "God, I look like a scarecrow, and I smell like a brothel. I need a shower." "Sarah, you look beautiful, and you smell like you, as the room does." She colored, even though I wasn't trying to embarrass her. "Baby, come on. If you bottle and sell it as air freshener, I'm going to get a dozen." "Uhh. Please. Don't remind me," she replied softly, still feeling a bit embarrassed. "How were you with history lessons?" I asked, throwing a non sequitur. As I expected, she gave me a confused look, before replying. "Not very good. I hated the stuff. All those battles and dates and stupid names." "Heh... You missed out on the fun stuff. It's not all boring stuff. There were always colorful characters and colorful incidents, little anecdotes." "Like what?" "Take Napoleon for example. There's a story about him sending a messenger from the battle field to Josephine, about his return home." "So?" "Well, he still had to travel a week before he'd arrive at Paris. The message said: 'Don't wash up until I arrive'. There was a man who knew what he liked," I quipped, giving her a lecherous grin. Sarah crinkled her nose. "Ugghh. I should have known something like that was coming. You men are beasts." Then with a smile, she asked, "I never read that in any of the history books. You sure you're not making it up?" "That's the kind of thing they seem to forget to include in the history books. At least, the ones they use in the classrooms. I wonder when they'll wake up and realize they would get the students more enthusiastic about history if they included the juicy bits." "God, you're such a perv, Mitch. When did that happen?" "Well... There was this blonde girl I met. Hot and juicy and--" "You rat! Don't put the blame on me," she retorted indignantly, but her eyes were smiling. "OK. But I wasn't putting anything on you. In you... that's something else," I quipped. She started to laugh. "My, my, my. You must be a morning person. Already getting frisky?" "I can wait. How about you?" I replied, with a snort. "Oh, I love a morning quickie, but I really want to take a quick shower." That little exchange was already getting to her; her skin was flushed with excitement. "Sarah, you don't have to on my account. I told you, you look beautiful and I love your smell. You are not _smelly_. It's you, all of you, and I love all of that when it touches my senses," I said, with a more serious tone. "OK, stud. Give me a kiss and help me out of bed." Putting my cup on the tray, I collected her plate and cup, and put them on the tray. Then I sat by her side, and pulled her in for a kiss. After the kiss, I didn't release her, but started to kiss her neck, inhaling her womanly smell. She felt what I was doing, and tried to wiggle out from my embrace, but I had her secured in my arms. There was no way she could break free, even with her strength, and her struggles started to work against her, as her tits rubbed on my chest, getting her nipples hard. I was pretty sure she would be starting to leak around her pussy in a while. When she realized she couldn't escape, she ceased her struggles, and I released her, giving her a long kiss. After the kiss, I nuzzled her neck, inhaling her smell again, and this time, she sighed softly, accepting and enjoying my attention. When I looked up, her eyes were soft. "You make me feel so good and wet, Mitch," she said, before kissing me hungrily again. Breaking the kiss, I trailed my tongue down her neck to her collarbone, and all the way between her tits, inhaling her. She clutched my head, cooing her appreciation. When I looked up, her eyes were getting that strange hue they had when she was aroused. I didn't know if she wanted to have a quickie now, because she had asked me to help her out of the bed, so I ceased my teasing to let her make up her mind. When she felt me stop, she smiled. "Mitch, I want a morning quickie, but I really want to go to the bathroom and have another cup of coffee." "OK. I'll start a fresh batch of coffee." "It's warm here. Did you turn up the thermostat?" "Yep. I didn't want to bother with clothes." "Good. I'll join you in the kitchen." She went to the bathroom, and I collected the tray and took it to the kitchen. Filling my cup with the remaining coffee, I prepared a new batch. As I was taking a seat, she came in and headed straight for me. She pulled my towel off, draping it at the back of the chair. When I sat down, she straddled me and plastered herself against my chest, resting her head on my shoulder. I realized she hadn't taken a shower or cleaned her self; just washed her face and brushed her teeth. I wrapped my arms around her, running my hands along her spine, making her shiver with my soft touches. I loved how responsive she was. "The coffee will be ready in another ten minutes. You want a sip from my cup?" I asked. "I'll wait. I like this more than coffee." While we waited for the coffee, we kept teasing each other, kissing, touching. She was already juicing up, and I felt my cock getting wet. Her nipples were hard, digging into my chest. A few minutes later, she rose up, guided my hard cock into her pussy, and sat down slowly. Somehow, she felt hotter than last night. She started a slow rocking motion, teasing both of us, stoking the fires slowly. And then the percolator gurgled, announcing that the coffee was ready. "Are you still hungry?" I quipped. Getting my joke, she laughed. "You're such a clown, Mitch. The things you say." Then she added, "Yes, I'm hungry. Hungry for your cock. The coffee can wait. I want to have some fresh cream with it." With that quip, she stood up. Picking up my cup from the table, she put it on the counter, emptying the table. Turning her back to me, she bent over the table, supporting herself on her elbows, and lowered her upper body. When her tits and stomach made contact with the table surface she hissed and shivered, from the cold surface. Looking back, she gave a smoldering look. "Come on, Stud. I want some cream." She punctuated her words by shaking her ass. I stood up and guided myself into her hot box, and taking hold of her hips, I started to stroke. "That's good, Mitch. Keep the same pace but make it harder." I increased the force, and we could hear the wet, slapping sound my balls made, accompanied by her small cries, each time I bottomed in her. I realized my balls were hitting her clitoral hood. Reaching down, I started to massage her clitoris, and she pushed her ass back, giving me more space to work, moaning her pleasure. Due to the force of my strokes, her tits were rubbing on the table, and she must have been enjoying that, because she allowed her body to be pushed back and forth along the surface of the table. I felt her tighten inside. She was almost there. I eased my efforts on her clitoris, not wanting to bring her too quickly, and slowed my pace. "Faster... ugh... I'm almost there..." "Easy, Sarah. I want you to enjoy this." "I... ahh... am... more... please..." When I pulled back I saw her little brown hole winking at me, which gave me an idea. Wetting the thumb of my free hand with spit, I placed it gently over her hole, and massaged it, getting a shriek. She pushed her ass back to get more stimulation. As her pussy got tighter, I increased the pace of my strokes. Capturing the folds of her clitoral hood between two fingers, I squeezed it lightly and started an up and down milking action. Sarah responded with a soft scream of pleasure. As she started to come and her pussy started its milking actions, I pressed my thumb inside her little hole, drawing another scream from her. Then, her back arched, her upper body coming off from the table. She started to tremble, and pushed her ass back, trying to fuck herself faster on my cock, increasing my own arousal. I kept working her clitoris, and increased the pace of my strokes, wanting to come. Feeling her come so strongly did something to me and I quickly found myself on the brink. A few more strokes, and I was ready to blow. As she was coming down, I took several brutal strokes, getting fresh moans and yelps with each of them. When my first spurt burst, I buried myself as deeply as possible. Feeling me come inside her, she started to roll her ass, trying to pleasure me. "Oh, Mitch! It's... ahhh... hot... you're burning me..." she cried, as I continued to throb and spurt inside her. Her asshole was tightening and relaxing around my thumb, but I couldn't do much because it was trapped between her ass and my belly, in an awkward position. I eased my attentions on her clitoris, playing around her pussy lips, getting my fingers wet with our combined juices that were leaking around my shaft. I moved my hand to her belly, tracing soft teasing patterns with my fingers, making her moan and shiver with the new stimulation. Leaning back, I managed to withdraw my thumb from her little hole, getting a moan, before pushing my cock back inside her. I felt her legs tremble, and leaned over her to slide both of my hands around her sides, caressing the outer swells of her breasts. I urged her to rise up a bit, so I could slip my hands under her tits. When she lifted her chest off the table, I cupped her tits, and teased her nipples mercilessly, and received moans of appreciation. Releasing my hold on her tits, I slid my arm to her belly and gently urged her to stand up. Getting the hint, she stood, taking care not to uncouple us, and back stepped with me. Allowing me to support her weight, she spread her legs, and I sat down on the chair with her on my lap. Leaning against me, she sighed softly, before turning her head to kiss me. I kept running my hands around her arms, sides, and played with her tits for a short while, before moving them down to her pussy. She broke the kiss with a moan, and closing her eyes, gave herself to my gentle caresses, letting me bring her down. After a while, she grabbed my hands and moved them to her tits, letting me cup them, and kept her hands on mine. She didn't say anything, but it seemed like she didn't want any more stimulation, preferring the gentle contact of my hands on her tits. It was a difficult proposition; I loved her tits, their soft yet firm feel, and her puffy nipples still hard, digging in my palms like small pebbles. We rested like that for several minutes quietly, until she finally broke the silence. "Mmmm. I love what you do to me." "It was my pleasure." "I'm sure it was. I feel like a brand new woman. What a way to start the day." "Yeah. A good cup of coffee does wonders." She laughed, and retorted, "That too." She wasn't going to let me score that one, but I wasn't going to concede defeat easily, so I said, "Ummm... Sarah? What else was there besides coffee?" "A hot cunt that will fuck you to death if you're not careful. I might have to phone Kathy and get her permission first, though." "You're a successful doctor, a talented singer, a lovely woman, a good friend, and a wonderful lover... with a hot pussy," I corrected her. "Thank you," she replied, softly. Then teased with, "Flattery will get you anywhere." Instead of answering, I kissed her neck and shoulders, squeezing her tits softly. "God! I'm insatiable. You drive me crazy," she responded to my attentions. "I think we should get a cup of coffee before it gets too old," I reminded. "Yeah. I could do with a cup, but I want to clean up a bit," she replied, while squeezing my hands, urging me to squeeze her tits. A few minutes later, she carefully disengaged, cupping her pussy with one hand so that she wouldn't drip on the floor, and headed to the bathroom. There was a little spot on the floor from our quickie, and some on the chair where I was sitting, so I cleaned them. Using a paper towel I cleaned myself, and then filled up a cup for her. By then, she was back, looking refreshed. Taking a sip from her coffee, she looked around as if she was searching for something, before her eyes settled on me. Kneeling in front of me, she licked my cock before sucking it into her hot mouth. Because I had cleaned up, there wasn't much she could lick. "I was looking for some cream for my coffee," she said with a disappointed look in her eyes. "Sorry, it will take a while to order a new batch." "Let's go to the living room. It will be more comfortable." She took the towel draped at the back of the chair, and we went to the living room. She put the towel on one of the couches, and asked me to take a seat. Then she went to the stereo, and put it on, before coming back to sit next to me, cuddling. When we finished our coffee, I went to her room, in search of my cigarettes. In the living room, I collected our cups and went to the kitchen to get a re-fill, and returned. Sitting next to her I lit my first cigarette of the day, getting dizzy with the first intake of nicotine. She took the cigarette from me and took a drag, but she didn't return it. "I didn't know you smoked," I said. "I don't. Not regularly. I smoke when I drink at a party or occasionally after sex." "I wish I could limit my smoking as you do. That's one nasty habit I've been reluctant to give up." "Well, you know the dangers, so I'm not going to lecture you." "You know, we didn't talk much," I said, feeling guilty because about all we had done had been making love or fucking (depending on your point of view). With a tingling laugh, she said, "Oh, but we did. Body language is the best kind of talk." "Come on, Sarah. I'm serious." She ran the back of her fingers along my cheek affectionately, before she responded with, "I know you are. I really don't have much to tell. Like your sister, I'm busy with school and the hospital. I spend my free time practicing the guitar or with your sister and other friends. I've gone through some relationships, but I don't really have the time to keep relationships and I enjoy my independence. I haven't met anybody that made my head spin, yet. I want to finish the school first, and then take it as it comes." "I would have thought you'd find a guy by now. You know what I think of you, what I see, when I look at you. There should be some guy who thinks the same way." "Perhaps. But as I said, I'm trying to catch up on what I missed when I was younger." "Well, Kathy wasn't very active when she was young. At least, to my knowledge." "True, but she got asked out and got hot and heavy a lot of times, even though she didn't go all the way. I didn't get to do that. I was shy when I was young, and self-conscious about my looks. When I got over that phase, quite late, the boys were scared I wouldn't be interested in them. And the ones that finally got interested were the wrong kind." "Even in the med school?" "Well, the first two years were difficult, then I repeated a year, because I was thinking of singing professionally. I was young and my head was filled with dreams of fame and big money. And I was hanging with the wrong crowd. You know the type, always partying, and drinking, and barely managing school, if at all. Kathy reminded me of our dreams, how we wanted to be doctors, that I could always become a professional singer, if I wanted, after finishing school. She was right, and managed to convince me. I owe her much. She spent months helping me catch up on the classes and bring up my grades." I noticed her gray eyes were moist, and she was looking at someplace far away, as if remembering something, but I didn't understand how her story would make her so emotional. I got the feeling there was more to than she was telling me. "Sarah, I know you're very close to each other, but why do you feel so strongly about her?" "I told you I was young and foolish. The first year wasn't overwhelming, and I got by with little studying. I was partying and busy with music. I was hanging with the wrong crowd. Things were different in my second year, and that was when I got into trouble. My parents were going crazy with me, and Kathy pulled me aside a few times. Then she bailed me out of a tight spot during a party, catching somebody slipping something in my drink. That was an eye opener, and I realized Kathy was right, but then I was way behind in my classes, so I failed that semester. Kathy helped me with the studying, and I passed the repeat semester. In the meantime, Kathy's social life was suffering because of me. She was dating a guy, and they broke up because Kathy was busy with me and didn't have time for him. How did I pay her? By failing the next semester. She was very angry, rightly so. I thought she would turn her back on me, but instead she kept helping me with my studies. So I finished the second repeat semester, and after that I got a handle on things." "I see... It cost Kathy her guy... Was he worth it?" "No. But neither of us knew it at the time. The point is, the guy wasn't the only thing I cost Kathy. After the break-up, he started to date another girl; a spoiled little rich bitch. You know the type, daddy's little princess. Her daddy was another piece of work. He was a professor in the med school. Once Kathy realized the guy wasn't worth her trouble, she got over him pretty quickly. However, he was hung up on Kathy. The little bitch he was dating was jealous, because her guy was still hung up on Kathy. So what does the little bitch do? She manipulates her daddy and sets him against Kathy. Kathy's third year turned into hell. Nothing she did was good; her work was below average, etc. That bastard even managed to influence a few other instructors as well and turned them against her. Kathy's hands were tied. She could have fought, but even if she had won, she would have lost. In the medical world reputation is everything. They don't look favorably upon students who embarrass a professor." "So, how the hell did she survive?" "That prick of a professor got an attractive offer from a private practice in another city, and decided to take it. His daughter, the little bitch, suddenly found she was failing exams, so she quit school. With those two gone, the negative criticism pretty much stopped. There were other professors and assistant professors who were quite fond of Kathy and her work, and suddenly they found they could voice their opinions without fear of repercussions. Slowly the others who were putting Kathy down realized they had been taken for a ride by the bastard who left, and they were embarrassed. It was a minor scandal, although it rarely made the rounds of gossip, and few people were aware of what happened. I feared they would turn against her again, because of their part in the scandal and their embarrassment. To her credit Kathy never said a word or indicated she was aware of anything out of ordinary. I think that's what finally decided it for some of the professors, and they treated her fair and square. I know of three professors who apologized to her in private for the unfair treatment and their part in it. Do you know what your sister's reply was?" When I shook my head, she smiled and said, "You must be mistaken. I'm not aware of any unfair treatment, but I appreciate your concerns." "Jeeez." "Yes. Now, that's class!" "How the hell did you hear all that if it was kept under wraps? Especially about the three professors?" "That was pure luck. One of the professors forgot that an intercom was open, and his secretary heard the conversation. She liked your sister very much. For good reasons. Kathy had spent several nights in the ICU when her eight year old son had been hospitalized, frequently at his bedside. I saw the kid a few times, visiting together with Kathy. The poor kid was beaten badly. Kathy is still fond of that kid. By the way, that's why she chose Pediatrics. Anyways. So, the secre--" "Just hold on a second," I cut her off suddenly, a light bulb going off in my head. "What--" "Tell me about the kid." "Mitch? What's wrong? Are you all right?" I didn't realize my voice was hoarse, until I spoke again. "I'm OK. Why?" "You look pale." Trying to calm myself, I tried again. "I'm all right, Sarah. Please, tell me about the kid. Whatever you can remember." She gave me a curious look, while thinking back, trying to remember about the kid. "He was an eight year old kid. Two kids in the playground beat him up. I really don't know the whole story. When I saw him he had many bruises. I think he was in the ICU for something else, and not for injuries from the beating. A blood condition or something." "How did Kathy know him?" "I think she was doing the rounds with other students in ICU as part of a tour of the hospital and her studies, when they brought in the kid. After that, every minute she could spare, she was by his bedside. I know that she wasn't supposed to be there, but somehow she managed to get in." My mind was busy with what Kathy had told me about the time I was nine years old. Was her interest in that kid related to what happened so long ago? _I hope not, Sis. That's too long to carry a hurt._ "Mitch, something's wrong. I can see that. Tell me what's bothering you." "It's nothing, Sarah. It might be something from my past. When I work it out, I'll tell you, but I don't make any sense out of it at this moment." "Are you sure it's not related to Kathy?" _Shit! Bloody female intuitions!_ "To tell the truth, I'm not sure about anything, Sarah. I need to think about it. I don't even know if I can figure it out. Let me think it over, OK?" She wasn't convinced, but she realized I wasn't going to talk about it. "Uh, OK." "Back to the story. You were saying the professor had forgotten the intercom was open," I prompted her. "Yeah. So the secretary listens to the whole exchange and hears every word. She also knew if this got out it could cause problems, but she knew Kathy and I were best friends. I guess she must have remembered me from the time when I was with Kathy by her son's bed. She also knew I was worried about Kathy, so she spilled the beans to me, reminding me the possible consequences if it ever got out, as if I needed to be reminded." "I see... So you feel responsible for all the hard times Kathy had. But Sarah, it seems to me that relationship was bound to fail. Kathy would have broken up with that guy anyway, and all the shit would have happened, with or without you." "Maybe, maybe not. They might have broken up, but then it could have happened under different circumstances, without all the other things coming into play. If Kathy had broken up with him later, that little bitch and her asshole daddy would have been gone already. It's difficult to say. I know this much. It happened and it cost her." "I don't think you should feel guilty about something like that, Sarah. Kathy is very loyal, and she was loyal to her friend. She would have done it whether you asked for it or not. It wasn't your decision. It was her decision." "I understand that, Mitch. What I feel isn't because of what she had to go through. Not really. She helped me and I failed her. I should have stood on my own two feet after passing that semester, but I failed a second time, because I wasn't giving it my best. She had to help me again, while all that shit was going on around her. That's what bothers me." "She loves you, Sarah. And you make allowances for people you love. What can I say, that's Kathy. You know her better than I do." "Yes. That's why I love her." While listening to her, my mind was busy with that revelation, trying to make some sense out of it. "You said that was during her third year?" "Yes." _Shit! That was my Senior Year; when I was keeping busy with school and the part time job. When I was going to pieces after her, lost in my own little world. I was so involved with myself, I hadn't noticed anything. I wouldn't have. Shit. Shit. Shit._ "Sarah, did my parents know what was going on at the school? The trouble with the professors and such?" "I don't think so. I know she got some flack from your mom, but she also knew Kathy wasn't dawdling around. She was studying, and all her spare time was spent helping me study. So, your mom couldn't fault her. I think Kathy told them the med school was much harder than she thought it would be." I lit another cigarette, and took a drag, thinking over what Sarah said. _Yeah. That figures. She wouldn't want Mom upset, and she was helping Sarah. Mom liked Sarah, and still likes her. Kathy probably didn't want Mom to blame Sarah for what happened. So she gave Mom the impression that her problems were with difficult schoolwork, not a result of any unfair treatment, or time spent helping Sarah. Seeing Kathy give her best effort at school was enough for Mom, whether Kathy succeeded or not. Mom's only expectation at such times was 'give your best'. She had always been fair and reasonable in her expectations for her kids._ _Jeeez! Kathy didn't have anybody to talk to. Fuck!_ _I'm sorry, Sis. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you._ _What a pair of siblings we are. Secret after secret. Juggling act all along. I know I did it out of love... I didn't want to worry, or hurt you... or Dad, or Mom, for that matter. I didn't want to burden anybody with my problems._ _Now it seems, you did the same._ I hadn't realized how alike Kathy and I were, until that moment. We had been competitive, successful, and determined. We loved and cared about each other and showed it. But, we also kept things secret, not to burden the other. "Mitch, do you remember what I said to you, yesterday?" "Huh?" "When I reminded you Kathy is your blood, I also told you that you can talk to me, and it will stay here. I can see something's bothering you. Very much. I have the feeling it's about Kathy, and you know how I feel about her. Are you sure you can't talk to me?" she asked softly with an almost pleading tone, urging me to talk to her. I don't know why, but I felt tired, and old; older than my young years. Friendship, love, trust, and secrets made for a lousy combination. Sarah was a good friend. When we were young, she had been the first girl I felt comfortable talking to. Perhaps, because we had known each other for a long time as kids, and later, as teens. She had been a constant figure around Kathy, a face I was used to seeing. But, I never had serious talks with her; only about common interests like music, books, and school stuff, the daily things. She was, after all, my sister's best friend and we had never been boyfriend and girlfriend. Considering how shy I had been, Sarah had been a special case. I thought about how I should answer her question; I didn't want to evade her, she deserved better. With a tired sigh, I said, "It's not about Kathy, Sarah. It's about me. I wasn't there for her when she needed me." She didn't say anything, instead, she ran her hand on my arm, trying to give some comfort. "Sometimes things happen, Mitch. I told you my story." "Yes. You're right. Sometimes things happen. You're a good friend, Sarah. Thank you." "You're welcome," she replied, before sharing a long kiss. We spent the next several minutes in quiet solitude, finding comfort in each other's presence, cuddling, before Sarah broke the silence. "I'm going to take a shower. Do you want to join me?" "Sure. Do you have a spare toothbrush?" "I think I have one in one of the cabinets in the bathroom." * * * * * CHAPTER - 19: Virgin Tales Putting out our cigarettes, we went to the bathroom. Sarah found an unopened toothbrush and we shared the small sink brushing our teeth. It was a very domestic image, and I chuckled at it internally. Afterwards, we had a quick but enjoyable shower, working each other up. When she asked me to wash her backside, it became obvious what she was planning. Back in her bedroom, she took another big towel and put it in the middle of the bed, before we got down to business... umm.. pleasure. Although both of us were looking forward to what was coming, for some reason we took it very slow, spending the next half hour or more caressing and stroking each other. Eventually, Sarah urged me between her legs, and guided me inside her for a long and languorous session. We kept at it for quite some time, and Sarah was being careful not to excite me too much. In the meantime, she had two mild and relatively quiet orgasms. Then she positioned herself on her hands and knees, and asked me to prepare her backside using the slim vibrator. Remembering how she reacted to my tongue last night I decided to repeat it. Needless to say she enjoyed my attentions and came strongly when I started using the vibrator in her tight backdoor. After she caught her breath, she took the lube, and started coating my cock. "This is your first time, isn't it?" When I nodded, she quipped, "Goody! A virgin. My lucky day." "You're such a tease," I retorted. "That I am. But you can't imagine what a turn on this is for me. I've lusted after you, and now I'll be your first piece of ass, literally," she replied. From the strange hue in her eyes, I could see she was extremely turned on with the idea. I had seen how much she enjoyed last night, and what we just did, so I knew she was going to have a blast. "Now, couple of things. Although you're thicker than the vibrator, you should be able to fit in without too much difficulty. The vibrator did its job. But still it will be tight. Let's just take it slow and have a great time. I really enjoy a good ass fuck, so don't be concerned when I start to come, because I will come hard. You've seen the effects of the vibrator. With a real cock I come harder. I think you'll enjoy it. I hope you can hold out. I have plans." "Umm. I don't know, Sarah. The stimulation can be too much. I'm already excited with the idea." She was still lubing my cock, and felt how hard it was and how it throbbed in her hand. "Mmm hmm. I can feel how hard it is. I'm excited, too. I think I'll come like a rocket as soon as you're inside me. OK, slight change of plans. Let's start with a quick fuck to take the edge off. Afterwards we take a break and repeat it leisurely. I don't want to miss out on the fun, and I want you to enjoy it fully. How is that?" "You mean... I get to get two pieces of ass?" I quipped. Laughing, she retorted, "Yes, stud. I told you before, _Around Sarah in 80 Ways_." "I loved the read up to now. I'm looking forward to the next chapter," I said, then gathering her in my arms, I kissed her hard. After the kiss, she turned around and pulled a pillow under her belly and stretched herself over it, offering her ass in a comfortable position. I moved between her legs, and leaned over her body, supporting myself on one arm. Reaching back she used her hands to spread her cheeks to help me, and I guided my cock to her backdoor. Although her hole looked tight and small, it was dilated by the vibrator. Still, I pressed in slowly, taking care not to hurt her. At first, the ring around her hole resisted, and I stopped my efforts. Keeping a little pressure, I waited for her to relax. "Try again. Harder his time," she said. So, I applied a slow pressure. Suddenly I popped inside the ring, penetrating her hole, and immediately stopped. Her ring was flexing behind the head of my cock, and felt very tight. The inside was very hot, hotter than her pussy. When the involuntary flexing tapered off, I pushed in a little bit more, before coming to a stop. I could hear Sarah's panting and gasping, but I wasn't sure if it was from discomfort or pleasure. "Oh, God! It's... it's good. Push more. Slowly," she said, urging me on. Pulling back, I pushed in further, and waited for her to get used to my presence. Over a matter of minutes, I patiently worked my length inside her. When I finally bottomed in her bottom (pun intended), I stopped and waited for her to get used to me. She released her hold on her cheeks, and moved her hands to the head of the bed, grasping the wooden bars of the frame. Supporting my weight on both hands I lowered my upper body, and kissed her between her shoulder blades. Leaving a wet trail, I traced a path to her neck kissing and licking her. Her body was responding with little shivers, and I was enjoying her moans of pleasure. When I was at her neck, she turned her head and we shared a soft kiss. Because I was concentrating on how she was faring, I hadn't paid much attention to how it felt to me. Now, resting inside her, I was surprised at how good it felt. The ring was still tight at the root of my shaft, gripping me like a small vise, and her insides were soft, with a velvety texture, and hot, very hot. Sarah had more control over that particular muscle than she had over her pussy muscles, and she tried experimental squeezes, making me grunt with the feeling. The hot channel had a sort of a rippling action on my shaft, enhancing the feeling. The stimulation was great, and I wondered how long I would be able to hold out before my balls gave up. I still remembered how her hole gripped and sucked the vibrator when I used it, and now my cock was going to have the same treatment. What's more, the idea of plugging Sarah in such a forbidden place had finally registered; it was a big turn on. In my teen masturbation fantasies I had not thought of this particular activity. The combination of physical stimulation, and the excitement was starting to overwhelm me, and I was panting hard. Breaking the kiss, Sarah looked up. "It's getting to you, isn't it?" "It's... it's so different... I've never experienced anything like this. You're so hot and tight in there, I don't know if I'll be able to hold out." "I know. It feels as if a pole is lodged in there, but it's a hot, hard and throbbing pole. The person behind that pole makes it more exciting too." "Yeah. Same here. I'd never imagined it would be like this. It's kind of nasty, and kinky. After all we had done, I didn't think this would be so exciting." "Mmm hmm. Me too. But that's part of the pleasure. It turns me on to know that I'm your first." As I throbbed with excitement at her words, she closed her eyes, and gasped. Then she said, "God, I feel you there... how I feel you there... I feel so sluttish. I want you to fuck me to death, Mitch. You want to, don't you?" "God, Sarah. Ease up. I'll lose it before I start. I want to enjoy this more." "Me too. I have an idea. Can you reach the drawer on the night stand?" "I think so. You want the other vibrator?" "Yeah." When it became obvious I couldn't reach the drawer without uncoupling us, Sarah moved to a doggy position and managed to get the vibrator. "I want to use this, while you cool down a bit," she said. _Clever girl._ I wanted to play with her body and pleasure her, and when I explained what I had in mind, she agreed. Carefully, we rearranged ourselves. I was sitting on my heels, and Sarah was sitting on my lap, with her legs outside mine, spread wide, resting her back on my chest. It was comfortable, and I could play with her tits, and caress her body, while she used the vibrator on her pussy. She didn't insert it inside, as the vibrations would stimulate my cock. I ran my hands around her body, tracing patterns on her belly, feeling the ripples of pleasure as she climbed to her orgasm. As she started to come, I cupped and played with her tits, pulling and twisting her nipples gently, prolonging her pleasure. In the meantime, my cock was feeling the effects of her orgasm, the ring flexing around the base of my shaft rhythmically with a fierce grip, and her channel rippling in concert to the flutters in her pussy, their action along the length of my cock stimulating me without taking me over the brink. Although Sarah wanted me to fuck her, I was enjoying her orgasm too much, so we kept at it for several minutes, until she got off again. When she caught her breath, she put the vibrator aside, and asked me to fuck her. So, we moved to the doggy position. She was holding onto the headboard, and I was leaning over her and holding onto the headboard with one hand. My other hand was free to roam around her body to play with her tits, stroke her belly, and stimulate her pussy. She turned her head and said, "Mitch, when I come I'll come very hard so keep on fucking. I want you to fuck me fast and hard, like a slut. I mean it. I want to know I was fucked in the ass." Her words made my blood boil, and she knew the effect she was having on me. There was no way she could miss the way my cock throbbed and jumped in her tight little hole. She responded by squeezing her ring around me. "Come on stud, don't keep me waiting." Because her ring was dilated enough, it didn't take long to establish long strokes. As I stroked in, Sarah relaxed her ring, and as I pulled out, she tightened her ring on my shaft, her channel sucking my cock, making us both gasp and pant with the stimulation. As I felt I was drawing close to boiling over, I stopped my stroking and started to work on her clitoris. "I'm getting there... Fuck me... agh... Fuck me hard... Don't... ugh... hold back..." I wanted to enjoy this more, so I kept my attentions on her clitoris, while waiting for my own excitement to subside. I wanted to bring her with a big bang. "Come on... fuck me... fuck my ass..." she urged me on. "I will, Sarah. Hold on a second." Her upper body was trembling, and she was trying to fuck herself back on my cock, but I had her cornered between my body and the headboard of the bed. Capturing her clitoral hood between two fingers, I started a milking action, moving her along. As she started to moan her pleasure, I gave her long hard strokes at a slow pace, making her grunt with each thrust. In the meantime, her pussy was leaking her juices and her ring was flexing. In a few minutes, she announced her pleasure with a sharp scream that turned into a long wail. Because her ring was getting tight, I started a series of short but brutal thrusts and she went crazy, her cries picking up in volume. At the same time, the little ripples along the length of her channel and the flexing of her ring brought me to boiling point. I tried to hold back as much as possible. The pleasure was incredible; the way her channel rippled along the length of my shaft, how it tried to grasp and milk me, trying to suck the cum out of it, and how her body was shaking and trembling as the pleasure coursed through her, screaming and moaning. I was so turned on by the way she was coming and screaming, how her body was responding, it touched something primitive inside me. I felt like I was burning with a fewer. I wanted to fuck her to pieces, ravish her. I moved both my hands to her tits, and cupped them, trapping the nipples between two fingers. Using her tits as handles, I started long hard strokes, trying to keep the boiling cum inside. The effect on her was extraordinary. When she stopped screaming, she was yelling and shouting obscenities, driving me crazy with excitement. "Fuck me... rip my tits... give it to me..." We were like animals trying to tear at each other. I was pumping in her hole furiously and was ready to blow my load, while tearing at her tits, squeezing her tit flesh and nipples. She was also fucking back as much as she could, trying to tear off my cock off with the muscles of her ring. As I felt the heat boil in my balls, I slowed my pace, and pulled out, getting a disappointed moan. Using my hand I quickly positioned my throbbing cock, and gave a brutal stroke, all the way in, making her scream. Pulling back I repeated it again, and Sarah was still screaming for more. The extra stimulation on her ring as I kept pulling out and forcefully ramming inside, had her going higher and higher. Returning my hand to her tit, I cupped it. Finally, as the boiling heat traveled along the length of my shaft, I fucked into her hard, trying to penetrate her as deep as possible, and before I was halfway in, I burst with the first spurt. Reversing direction I gave another brutal stroke that took me all the way into her depths, and her channel worked its magic, rippling along the length of my cock. Feeling me throbbing inside her and filling her up, Sarah responded with a long scream, "Oh, God.... fuck meeee! aaaieee... sooo goood... aaahhh..." Still in the throes of the pleasure, I squeezed her tits and nipples hard, and gave her one final brutal stroke, fucking into her deep, and pumped the rest of my load. As I was filling her channel with strong pulses of my cum, she started to wail, and the ripples in her channel got even more pronounced, sucking my cum out. It was as if she had a mouth and a hand there sucking and milking my cock. Her ring kept snapping on the base of my shaft, locking hard around it, which stopped and slowed the flow of boiling cum, while her channel tried to suck it out. The contrast between the two actions working against each other was terrific and I felt like I was coming for hours and hours. As the pleasure started to subside, I eased my grip on her tits, and tried to caress them gently. Sarah, however had other ideas. She reached with one hand and put it on top, and squeezed my hand around her tit. Following her lead, I squeezed her tits, and played with her nipples; pulling, and twisting them hard, getting rough with them, and receiving soft screams of pleasure for my efforts. She was a real minx, with a ravenous appetite, and it was a big turn on. Even though I had just finished coming inside her, I wanted to fuck her again and again and again. The way she responded and urged me on unleashed something raw and animalistic in me. It took us several minutes before we were able to catch our breath. I was nuzzling and kissing her neck, enjoying the way her body shook with tremors, the salty taste of her sweat on my tongue, and her smell filling my senses with its heady fragrance. When she turned to look at me, I saw the burning fever in her eyes, making me burn with the same fever. Although we were still short of breath, we locked lips, kissing each other hard. From the way we kissed, it was clear neither of us were satiated yet. We both wanted a repeat, but it had been a draining and tiring experience. After the kiss, we kept in that position, savoring the after glow, and kept teasing each other; Sarah, by working her ring around my shaft, while I played with her tits. I had come hard, but my cock was semi-hard, the heat of the burning fever keeping me excited. Both of us were reluctant to move, but Sarah suggested we should get into a more comfortable position. Without breaking contact, we managed to get into a sideways cuddle. After she caught her breath, she asked, "Do you want a repeat?" "Aren't you sore? I was pretty brutal." "I'm not hurting. Maybe it will come later." "I think you'll be pretty sore." "I don't care. That was very good, but short. I want it again, but a slow leisurely one." "I won't say no." "Good. So, you enjoyed fucking Sarah in her tight little asshole," she teased, making me throb. Before I could reply, she laughed, "Yep, you enjoyed it." "God, Sarah. The way you talk sometimes." "What? I wanted to be a slut, and get fucked like one. You gave me what I wanted. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy 'Sarah the wanton slut'." "It's not that. It kind of feels strange to hear you talk like that. It's a turn on, but... You know what I mean. You're not a slut. You're a beautiful woman," I replied softly, not feeling comfortable with the labels. "We knew each other as kids and now here we are--" She cut me off. "With your cock in my ass, fucking me to pieces," she quipped, with a teasing smile, and making my cock throb again. "Relax, Mitch. You need to loosen up. You heard what I said and what I wanted and you gave me what I wanted. I loved what we did. Just as you give me pleasure and enjoy doing that, I also take pleasure in giving pleasure. You have to admit, this has been a real blast." "Yes, it was. I don't know what came over me. You really drove me crazy at one point. As you said, I felt like fucking you to death." "I know. I felt it when you started to fuck me so hard. But, that's what I wanted. I wanted to be fucked, ravished. Sometimes women want to be conquered, possessed. It's something very primitive and animalistic. It touches some place deep. It's rare, but on occasion it happens. And I felt like that; I wanted that." "Yeah. We were like animals. It was primitive. I just don't feel comfortable." "Mitch, if you were hurting me, I would have stopped it or said something. I wanted it and I wanted it that way. Why are you so concerned about it?" "It's easy to lose control and hurt somebody, in the heat of passion." "Mitch, I don't think you're capable of hurting anybody. Even in the heat of passion. You listen to your partner. You were listening to me, and did what I wanted you to do. It requires a certain rapport between partners to be able to read their wants and needs, otherwise it can be dangerous. But you read me, and gave me what I wanted." Seeing I wasn't convinced, she continued. "Mitch. Do you think you would have continued, if I was hurting and screaming in pain? It wasn't taken by force, it was given. I think you know the difference." "Yeah, I know the difference." "Look, Mitch. You'll meet different women with different wants. Even the same woman would have different wants at different moments, depending on her mood. Giving them what they want at the right moment can be a difficult thing. It's a matter of experience, and rapport between partners. You can err on the conservative side and choose to play it safe. Nothing wrong with that, except that you might be cheating them of their pleasure. You don't know how much pleasure you gave me. So keep that in mind." "I know. I guess sometimes I play it too safe, too cautious." "That's OK. You'll never go wrong with that, but as you discovered, you can do much more. I think we're ready for round two," she quipped, giving me a squeeze with her ring and making me throb. I was getting hard, again. "Let's catch our breath a little bit. Why don't you use the vibrator? I love watching you come." "And I love the way you fuck me and make love to me. This time, make love to my ass." With that she raised her leg and put it on top of my leg, hunching her ass so that I could stroke into her comfortably. Picking up the vibrator, she started to use it on her pussy, while I ran my hand over her body, and played with her tit. During her first orgasm, the ripples in her channel stimulated me enough to harden me completely and I was ready to start making love to her tight little hole. As she was coming down from her orgasm, I started to pump her ass at a steady, slow pace, savoring the feel of her hot channel. She responded by using her muscles at regular intervals, but taking care not to overexcite me. We both wanted a long and leisurely session. However, she kept using the vibrator on her clit, and in her pussy, letting my cock feel the vibrations. It was an exquisite feeling, staying deep inside her, with the vibrations working on my shaft and the involuntary ripples of her channel sucking at my cock. When I felt my excitement build up, I stroked inside her and stayed motionless, waiting for the feeling to recede. Sarah was careful with the vibrator, and didn't keep it in her pussy when I was taking the short breaks. Instead, she worked it on her clitoris or on her tits. We kept at it for a long while, and the frequency of Sarah's orgasms increased, although they were mild and quick compared to her previous ones. With an ever-increasing need to come, I found myself taking shorter and shorter breaks. As we reached the final stretch, I decreased the pace of my strokes, trying to enjoy the feel of her channel. Sarah seemed to like the slow pace as well, and she started to work the vibrator in her pussy, pumping it in and out slowly in synch with my strokes. Feeling I was getting close, I moved my hand to her pussy, and played with her clitoris. When my cock started to harden and my balls tightened up, getting ready to blow, Sarah pulled the vibrator until the tip was at the entrance of her pussy and started to contract her ring muscles. With slow but sure strokes I pumped in and out of her velvety hole, while my hand kept at her clitoris. With a soft gasp, her body froze, then she trembled as her climax hit her. She pushed the vibrator inside, keeping it buried there, and let me feel the ripples of her channel. Then I burst with the first spurt, and pushing myself all the way inside her, I let the ripples of her channel and the vibrations suck the cum. "Oh, God! It's... aaahhh... so hot... I... aaiiiee... burn... ing..." she moaned, as I filled her. We were shaking with the pleasure as the feelings washed over us. When it ended, our bodies were still shivering and trembling with the after effects of our mutual orgasm. I had my lips on her shoulder, and gave her a soft nip. In reply she gripped me hard with her ring muscles. Shutting off the vibrator, she pulled it out of her pussy, and put it aside. Then, grabbing my hand that was softly stroking her pussy, she moved it up to her tit, cupping her hand over mine. We had not realized it, but both Sarah and I were completely exhausted. We had been caught in the passion of the moment, burning with an uncontrollable fewer, but now, as we started to come down, the lethargy overtook us. I wanted to touch and caress her body, but I couldn't find any energy to do anything. Sarah must have been feeling the same way, because after gathering her strength she moved to mold her body to mine, and with a sigh relaxed against me. I couldn't even bring myself to squeeze her tit, so I did the only thing I could do, and locked my lips on her neck, gently kissing and licking it. In a few minutes, we fell asleep. * * * * * CHAPTER - 20: Pillow Talk The ringing of the telephone woke us. Since the telephone was on the nightstand on my side, I had to roll away from Sarah to grab it. Sarah was still groggy, so I decided to answer the phone. "Hello," I said. "Mitch? Are you guys awake?" Kathy asked, her voice soft, but a bit breathless. "Good morning, Kathy. Yeah, we were getting up." "It's afternoon, Mitch. Can I... ugh... talk to Sarah?" "Yep. Just a sec." Turning around I found Sarah resting on her back, rubbing her sleepy eyes. I gave her the phone. "It's Kathy." "Morning, Kathy. What's up?" "Oh! I didn't realize it. No, we won't be late." I was listening to Sarah's side of the conversation with half an ear, while I stretched and tried to get rid of the cobwebs of sleep. When I looked up, I found Sarah listening intently with a small smile on her lips. "No, he survived, but I could hardly say the same for myself," she replied with a smile. Listening for a few seconds, she laughed. Then she said, "Oh, the usual. You know, the _Sarah Special_. He enjoyed the read, and I think he can do a second read." She listened for a few seconds intensely, her face coloring up. "You, bitch! I can hear it from here. I hope he turns it inside out." From the nature of the comments I understood Kathy was teasing Sarah, and remembering Kathy had sounded a bit breathless when she talked to me, it dawned on me that Mark was working on her while she was on the phone. _For fuck's sake. These two don't know when to stop._ I saw Sarah's nipples hardening in arousal, as she listened to Kathy. Since they seemed to be working each other up, I decided to take the bull by the horns, and do something about it. Moving between Sarah's legs, I gently spread them, and started to kiss the insides of her thighs, getting an appreciative moan. "Nope. He's getting ready for an oral exam," Sarah said. _Damn girls! Well, you asked for it Sarah._ With that, I moved to her pussy, and started to lick her slit, teasing her labia, and working towards the inner lips. Dipping my tongue into her channel, I tasted her juices. Sarah was starting to pant and gasp, while trying to keep a conversation with Kathy. Her clit was starting to peek from the hood. Once again, I was amazed how easily she got aroused. "Yeah... Mmmm... Yessss... aah... I... think so... I need to... aaghh..." Sarah's broken speech was cut off with a laugh and she was having difficulty to catch her breath, so I took a pause to let her collect herself. "I don't need to get out of the bed. I need to come. You should get out of the bed," she retorted with a snicker. "Yeah? I'm not a slut, you're the slut. I'm a hot cunt," she said, hotly, but it was obvious they were goading each other. "Good! At least you'll give your vibrators a break," she came back. Laughing again at Kathy's remarks, she replied, "I don't think so; he tenderized it nicely. I hope you can't sit on your bum for a week. You deserve it." She listened for a while without a reply, but she was breathing hard. I wondered what was happening. It didn't look like she was listening to something Kathy said. Then, Sarah said, "You're a bitch, Kathy. I hope he rubs your little button raw." I realized Kathy had let Sarah listen to their activities. I decided I needed to do something before things got out of hand, so I returned to licking her slit, getting a long moan. "No, he's quite good, thank... aggh... you very... ohhh... much. If you'll... aggh... excuse me... aghh... we have an or... aghh... al exam to attend to," Sarah said, between pants and gasps. "You too. Byeiieee..." she managed, before she gave a soft scream, when I hit her clit. She dropped the telephone on the bed, and gave herself to the feelings, as I stirred her pussy with my tongue. Before I could continue further, she grabbed me behind my ears, and stopped me, before pulling me for a kiss. After the kiss, she said, "I want to make love one last time, Mitch. There's a special soap in the medicine cabinet, in a green plastic bottle. We use it against infections and bacteria in the hospital, and it's harmless to the skin. Can you wash up with that?" I knew she could get something nasty, if I went in her pussy after being in her ass. I didn't have anything visible on my cock from being in her ass, but I knew there was flora in there that could cause serious infection. In the bathroom, I found the liquid soap she mentioned, and washed myself thoroughly, making sure I was clean. I didn't want her to catch something. I returned to the bedroom to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for me. Pulling me close, she started to lick and suck my cock, without even inspecting it to see if I had done a proper job. I was touched by her trust in me, so stopping her, I kneeled down and kissed her hard, while teasing her tits. She had always been a beautiful person, a lovely girl and she had turned into an even lovelier woman. I wondered why I felt so much lust for her, and love, but why my feelings for her were so different than what I felt for Dana. There were similarities between the two, but differences as well. They were both woman, all _woman_, passionate, and with an appetite, although Sarah seemed to have a more ravenous appetite than Dana. I wasn't sure if that was because of her long-time fantasies or if she had always been like that. The way she kissed was different, too. Passionate, lusty, but it wasn't like Dana's soul kisses. I wondered at that particular difference. Cupping her chin gently, I broke the kiss. Then I tried to give her a soul kiss like I had learned from Dana. At first, she went with it, passionately, before she stopped responding, and broke the kiss. Giving me an apprehensive but soft look, she said, "Thank you, Mitch. I love you and I appreciate it, but please don't. I'm not ready for something like that. I'm going to miss you, and that would make it much more difficult." _So she understood._ "You're a lovely woman, Sarah. And a good friend. I just couldn't help myself." "Such a romantic... You don't need to do that to make me feel loved. We're good friends, and I love you. I enjoyed what we did, and the way we did it. And that made me, makes me, happy. I told you before, I'm not looking for anything more. I'd like to keep it like that. If you can somehow manage, I'd like to see you in my bed again. I know it might not be possible. Thank you for what you've given me, Mitch." Kissing her, I said, "I should thank you, Sarah, for all you've shared. I don't know what will happen, but I'll try to keep in touch. And I know I'll miss you... very much." "Let's make love and pleasure each other again." With that, she reached for my cock, and I stood up. She worked her mouth on my cock. It took quite a bit of time for me to regain my erection, as I had come so strongly the last two times, but Sarah didn't complain, even when I thought she would be getting tired. She seemed to enjoy what she was doing, perhaps because she thought she might not get a chance like that again, and was making the most of it. When I was hard and ready she moved up along the bed and positioned herself on her back, with her knees pulled up, legs spread wide. I moved in between her legs, and hooked my arms under her legs, pushing her knees further up, positioning her for a deep penetration, while supporting myself on my arms. She reached and guided me into her pussy, and I worked myself all the way into her, slowly, in a single stroke. Hunching her ass at me, she urged me to bend her in half, opening herself up more for my strokes, so I followed her lead. While I kept up a slow but steady pace, her hands were busy at her junction, playing with her pussy lips and teasing my balls, running her finger from the bottom of my balls up along the perineum. She was being careful not to stimulate me too much, trying to make it last. I wasn't sure how long we kept it up, but after a while it became difficult to keep our pace slow. Sarah was straining hard, and I could feel she was trying to hold back her orgasm, staying on the brink, teasing herself and me. I was surprised how she managed to hold on so long, after coming so fast before. I suspected she wanted a memorable last fuck. When I felt the cum boil in my balls, and my cock started to throb with urgency, Sarah realized I was almost there, so she whispered, "Give me a few hard strokes and when you're almost there, stay deep inside me." I did as she suggested. I gave her a few experimental hard strokes, trying to keep myself from blowing my load. Sarah urged me to be more forceful, so I pulled out all the stops. I stroked in her very hard, and stayed in her, waiting for a few second, before following it with another brutal stroke, while pressing my pubic bone, trying to stimulate her clitoris. I didn't want to blow my load before she came. As I repeated my actions, she yelped, and I felt her pussy tighten around my shaft. Two more such strokes, and I had to stop, because I was ready to blow. Sarah's hands were busy teasing her pussy lips, and my shaft, and with a soft moan, she started to come, her pussy beginning its involuntary flutters. My balls, and her fingers were soaked with her juices. As she was coming, she started to tease my balls with her fingernails, scratching them gently, and my nuts tightened up with the stimulation, itching and boiling at the same time, getting ready to pump. I felt her finger trace a line from my balls up along the perineum. The flutters of her pussy were demanding, trying to suck the cum, and the tip of my cock expanded with new blood. As I gave in to the demands of her pussy, I felt her slick finger move further up. Before I realized what she was up to, her finger penetrated my ass, and wiggled in. As she pressed a spot, I screamed, and felt my balls jump, releasing the built up pressure with a fury. Sarah worked her finger at my backside, forcing me to give everything I had left in my balls, making me grunt and scream with the pleasure. It was too intense, and my cum felt like molten metal, as it traveled along the length of my shaft and burst out. It felt like my whole cock was burning up. Later, I realized, Sarah had been working on my prostate, but at the time, it felt like her pussy was sucking my cock, eating it alive, while the finger in my ass was forcing me to pump acid from my balls all the way to the tip of my cock. For almost half a minute I was flopping between her legs like a trapped fish, running out of breath, while her finger tortured me exquisitely and her pussy ate me. It felt like hours. When the feeling started to subside, Sarah eased her attentions, but still massaged me inside, trying to draw out my pleasure, and get the last bit of my seed. Gently she pulled her finger out, making me grunt, before she cupped my balls, rolling my nuts gently. When I opened my eyes, it took me several seconds to focus on her face. Her face was blurry, from the tears in my eyes, as I had been squeezing them hard in the grip of the almost painful pleasure. Gently she wiped my tears with her fingers, and I found her watching me with an amused smile. This last session had been almost like the time with Dana, when she had drained me with her pussy and sucked my breath out with her soul kiss. As I got my senses back, her pussy was going through its last tremors, and Sarah kept watching me, her smile broken with soft gasps whenever my cock twitched weakly inside her channel, responding to her fingers working my balls. Finally, she stopped her ministrations and moved her hands to my neck, pulling me in for a kiss. After we surfaced to catch our breath, I mumbled, "I won't be able to have any children," making her laugh. Kissing me softly, she said, "I told you I know a lot about male anatomy." I was still too out of breath to reply, and with a more serious tone, she asked, "Was it too intense?" I nodded. "I thought so. When you came, your come felt very hot, almost burning my insides. I hope I didn't hurt you." I shook my head. "Put your weight on my legs, and rest." I couldn't argue, my arms were shaking, so I slipped my hands under her shoulders, while I put my weight on her body and legs. It must have been uncomfortable for her, bent in half, but she wrapped her arms around my back and embraced me, both of us enjoying the feeling. A few minutes later, I released her legs and slid my hands under her again, embracing her and pressing my chest against her tits, my head resting beside her head. I kissed her on her neck, licking behind her ear, and then nipped her ear lobe. She had given me so much pleasure, I wanted to love her to pieces, even though I was exhausted from the ordeal. When I released her legs, she wrapped her legs around my waist, locking her feet on my lower back, and ran her hands on my back, wriggling her body beneath mine, rubbing her tits to my chest, and cooing softly. Raising up, I locked my lips to hers. Even though she had told me not to, I gave her a soul kiss. I wanted to thank her for what she shared with me and wanted to let her know how I felt about her. This time she didn't resist, and responded in kind. For a moment I felt guilty, because I didn't feel about her the same way I did about Dana, and it wasn't fair to her. But, I didn't know any other way to let her know I loved her as a friend, as a lover. I just hoped, it wouldn't come back to haunt me later. We finished our kiss and continued with a lot of tongue action, licking, sucking and nipping each other's lips and tongue. I took a look at her, to see her reaction, and found her returning my gaze with a soft smile. Her eyes had the strange hue, but they were lethargic. She seemed to be completely satiated. As I was searching her face, she said, "Thank you, Mitch. I loved the kiss. Somehow it felt right." Then with a gentle smile she added, "But, let's not make a habit of it, OK?" I nodded. We both knew the spirit in which it was given and returned. We were enjoying the aftermath too much, and I felt so drained I didn't want to move. "Are we going to be late?" I asked. With a laugh, Sarah said, "A little bit, but if I know Kathy, she'll be expecting that. She'll be running late as well." "I gathered as much. Do you call each other like that regularly?" I asked. "Sometimes. I do it to her more frequently, especially when Mark is visiting her." "Mark doesn't mind?" "Would any man mind, when he has a hot woman in his hands? Did you mind?" She retorted with a snort, making me laugh. "Lately, I haven't had a partner; one that I felt comfortable with. That's why Kathy did what she did, now. If I hadn't been so preoccupied and exhausted, I would have been the one calling her," she added, her eyes filled with mirth. While we were conversing, I was lost in her eyes, how her gray eyes changed color as the green-blue motes caught the light. From a distance the only thing I could notice was the slight hue change, but up close it was easy to see how they speckled. My mind was busy trying to sort my feelings, trying to find an answer to why I still felt like loving her to pieces. Was it lust? Was it hunger? "What are you thinking?" she asked. I wasn't expecting her question, and replied, without thinking, "I want to love you to pieces." She gave a small laugh and replied, "But you already did. You want more?" Yeah, I wanted more, even though I wasn't physically able to do so. I just knew how I felt, but I didn't know why. I was embarrassed to answer her question, because I didn't want to make her feel like a piece of meat. She wasn't that. She was more than that. Suddenly I felt like a 15 year old kid, lost, confused, looking for the correct way to answer her question. "Mitch? Something the matter?" she asked, concerned. "Nothing. It's just... To tell the truth, yes. I want more. I don't know why, but I feel like making love to you more and more. Even though I can't get hard--" "Good!" she cut me off. "I want you to want me like that. Nothing wrong with that." "You know you're not just a woman to go to bed with. You're more than that. I don't understand why I want more of you, and I feel uncomfortable wanting you like that," I replied. "I understand, Mitch. Maybe you're feeling guilty because you want me, but don't want to get attached to me, and then there's your girl friend. But as I said, nothing wrong with wanting me like that. I know I worked you hard, because I lusted for you. Of course, it's another matter for your relationship, but don't be concerned about me. Maybe your pent up lust is catching up with you, after all, like it did with me?" she quipped, making me smile. Yep, she did have a point. Perhaps, my lust for her finally caught up with me, especially after what we had done, and how she worked me to a fever pitch the last few times. I wanted to repeat that experience. I realized I was thinking with my little head, even though it was dead to the world for all practical purposes. "I don't need to remind you, you're welcome anytime. I would love a repeat. I enjoyed myself very much. You know that." I kissed her, exploring her mouth. "You're a lovely woman, Sarah. Talented, warm, kind, generous, beautiful... simply lovely." "And you're a caring, loving friend, Mitch. And a good lover." I replied by gathering her in my arms, giving her a hard squeeze, and she responded in kind pressing with her feet on my ass and tightening her arms around my back, and we shared a hard, passionate kiss, filled with lust, and... love. Yes, there was love, different from what I had with Dana, but nonetheless, it was there. Our perfect embrace was interrupted with a soft, disappointed gasp from Sarah, when my cock slipped out from her pussy without any ceremony. "Damn," she quipped. "Double damn," I agreed. We broke into laughter at the incongruity of the situation. Gathering her in my arms, I sat on my heels, and let her sit on my thighs. I couldn't keep my hands off her body. Holding her under her arms, I pushed her away from me, and started to work on her tits, licking around her areola. I sucked her puffy nipples one after the other, before moving up to her chest, then to her neck to finally end at her lips with a kiss. With a smile, Sarah warned me. "If you keep that up, I'm going to want another round, but I'm afraid neither of us are in any condition to survive it." She must have been satiated, because her breathing was normal, and she wasn't showing any signs of arousal. With her feet locked around my lower back, she pulled herself to my chest and we held each other, enjoying he feel of each other's body. We stayed like that for a long time, reluctant to part. Perhaps, knowing we might not get another chance, we were trying to burn the moments into our memories. I knew I was memorizing her; how she felt, how she smelled, how she moved under me, how she kissed, how she touched, and I suspected she was doing the same. With a resigned sigh, she released me from her embrace, and said, "If we dawdle more, we'll be late, and Kathy will kill us." "You said she would need time." "Yeah, she would, but we still have to drive, and we might get caught up in traffic. You know your sister. I don't want to give her more ammunition to tease us." "She wouldn't dare." "Like last night, in the kitchen?" she reminded with a smile. "Shit. She would, wouldn't she? I should have put her on my knees a long time ago and taught her some respect." "Yeah, you should have," she agreed. Then with a teasing smile, added, "As if that would have helped." We went to the bathroom and shared a shower, washing each other. I was careful when I was washing her backside, as it was tender. When I asked, she replied it would feel a bit sore later, but she didn't mind it, because it had felt so good. Then she said, "It will remind me I was loved to pieces." She paid special attention when washing my cock, and then gave a couple of licks and sucks to see if there was any soap left. Even though we were running late, I pinned her to the shower wall, and ate her to a mild orgasm, wanting to taste her again, and to see her come. When we were finished, she was quiet, tired from all the orgasms, and a bit emotional. I was feeling emotional as well, already starting to miss her, not only the sex, which had been amazing, but her as a person, as a lover, as a woman. While drying each other with big towels, we found ourselves in an embrace, sharing another soul kiss, letting each other know how we felt. Yes, there was love, and a certain attachment, besides all the physical attraction and lust. Finally, we dressed in a hurry and hit the traffic. Last night, Mark had taken Kathy to her place in his car, leaving my car at Sarah's. Sarah suggested going in my car, instead of two cars. She mentioned the four of us might go out for dinner someplace tonight, and later drop her at her house. If we didn't go out, Mark or I could bring her back to her place. I suggested, she might stay over at Kathy's place for the night, and with a laugh, she replied, we might get thrown out by the neighbors. I was already thinking about how much I would miss her, and hadn't thought about Mark and Kathy going at it. I suggested I would drop her off at her place. With a smile, she quipped she would read me a bedtime story. We both knew what the title of the story would be. To evade most of the traffic, Sarah directed us to a rarely used road. Although it was a single lane road and empty, I was driving below the speed limits. "Come on, Mitch, floor it! You drive like my grandma." I liked driving fast, but did that on the roads I knew that were empty and when I was driving alone. I didn't like putting other people at risk, be it other drivers or a passenger in my car. After all, I was responsible for the safety of my passengers. When I didn't pay attention, she quipped, "If you aren't going to drive, why do you buy a sporty thing like this? You should buy a Volvo or something." "Sarah, I'm not familiar with this road. It's empty, but you never know. What's more I'm not driving alone." "There's a long straight stretch coming up. I want to see what this thing can do. Can we?" That I could do, if I could see the distance as much as she said, and she seemed to want to have a thrill ride. "We'll see, Sarah. Depends on the road. Better straighten your seat and check your seat belt." "Goody!" I took the curve towards the top of a small cliff, and as we cleared it, I saw a very long stretch of road that was empty. I floored the gas pedal, and shifted, while checking the side of the roads for any possible animals or other things that might cause a problem. By the time I was downhill a hundred yards or so, I was doing 90 km/hr, and was shifting to fourth. In a matter of seconds, we were speeding at 140 km/hr, and I shifted to fifth. Sarah was enjoying the ride, but I was tense, because there wasn't much margin for error. When I hit 17o I decided enough was enough, and eased my foot off the pedal, letting the car slow down to a more comfortable 110 km/hr. As we neared the end of the stretch, I shifted down from fifth to third, the engine revs hitting the yellows, and the car decelerated down to 60 km/hr with a loud whine. "Whoooeeeiii!" Sarah shouted, exhilarated with the short speed ride. I suspected she did this quite frequently on this road, and I was concerned for her safety. "Sarah, how frequently do you drive fast, here?" "Every time I visit Kathy. Why?" "How fast do you drive?" "Not too fast. I regularly hit 140, 150, but once I did 210," she replied with glee. _Jeeez! You nuts?_ Sarah must have seen the look on my face, because she laughed and said, "I like a fast ride, Mitch." I still remembered how I had survived my big accident, caused by lack of concentration, and I wasn't doing more than 90 at the time. "Sarah, this is between the two of us, OK?" Hearing my serious tone, she cooled off, and said, "Of course, Mitch." "Good, because nobody in the family knows this, and I'd like to keep it like that," I said and told her about my accident. When I finished, she was pale. "I'm not telling you this because it's a war story, OK? I'm telling you because it happened and it happened fast. A split second lack of concentration and things went wrong. At 140 or 150, and I don't want to think about 210, things go terribly wrong much faster, and with lethal effect. That day, I was lucky. That was a company car, and I didn't even know its mechanical history. I know this car inside out, how it responds. I spend hours at the garage each time it's being serviced, to make sure everything is OK. So, I know what it is capable of doing. On this road, at that empty stretch, yeah, sure; 140 or 150, you can do that, as long as you pay attention, but 210? I personally wouldn't go over 100. And this is daylight and not winter, yet. I do hope you aren't attempting something like this in winter or at night. Every time you take an unnecessary risk, you're inviting disaster. This road might be empty, but it's too narrow, not enough wiggle room. I just hit 170 and was nervous as hell. I'd rather find a two or three lane highway and hit 200 instead of doing 100 or more on this road. It's not a question of driver's skills; it's a question of contingency, backup planning. You have more room on an empty stretch of two or three lane road than here. It gives you options, space, and response time to deal with an emergency. Do you get what I'm saying?" She nodded, but I wasn't sure if she really got it, even though she was a grown up 24 year old woman, and knew about death. "Look, Sarah, didn't you do a stretch at the ER?" "In a few months, I'll be in the ER. Why?" "Do you visit Kathy in ER?" "Sometimes." "Good. Next time, look for traffic accident victims, and their conditions. When it was happening, I was angry with myself for my stupidity. The realization that I wouldn't get a chance to say goodbye or offer an apology for my stupidity made it even worse. It's a stupid way to go. I can't imagine how Kathy would react, seeing me on a slab, mangled beyond recognition, because I had been stupid. I love you. Kathy and many other people love you. Think of the people you might leave behind, if you don't think about the consequences for yourself. Fun is fun, but as you reminded me about unprotected sex, you can take precautions and still have fun." With a solemn expression, she said softly, "I will, Mitch. I promise," gripping my arm fiercely. I could see her mind was busy running over the scenario I had just given her. Perhaps the imagery I supplied using myself as an example, had been too much, but I didn't want to take any chances. Coming right after all we had shared, I knew the impact would be stronger and stay with her. I felt like a heel to scare and shock her that way, but in the long run, I hoped it might benefit her whenever she wanted to do something reckless, without carefully planning it, or thinking about consequences. I had learned about consequences, a lot, since childhood. Slowing the car, I pulled over to the side. Unfastening my seatbelt, and hers, I gathered her in my arms. When I kissed her, I felt her trembling. I had been right. It had shocked her. Even though she had seen death as a doctor, contemplating the death of somebody close to her--a man she had had in her bed less than an hour ago--was something else. "Sssshhh. Sarah, baby. It's OK. I didn't want to scare you, but I wanted to make you understand, really understand. I'm sorry, love. I'm sorry." She calmed down in a few minutes, and looked at me with a curious expression. "You're being careful at that place, aren't you?" "Yes, of course, Sarah." "But working there is an unnecessary risk. Why don't you leave?" _Shit! How the hell did you come up with that?_ "It's not the same thing, Sarah. We're talking about being reckless and taking a calculated risk. One involves no thinking, no planning, and no thought of consequences. The other involves careful investigation of all possible sources of problems, their consequences and a plan to deal with them. When I work on the rig floor, there's more risk of injury or death from the machinery and human error than from possible attacks on the rig. What I do for work is potentially dangerous. I have learned to be careful and take my time. The people I work with are professionals, and they take pride in what they do, and how they do it. All of us pay attention to safety. At the end of the day, I like what I do. Same as you. You like what you do." "It's difficult for people who love you to see it that way. I know your parents and Kathy don't see it that way." "I know, Sarah, but there's little I can do about it. As I said, it's what I do for a living, and I enjoy doing it. I know I wouldn't be happy doing anything else, at least, at the moment. How would you feel if you wanted to work as a doctor, but weren't allowed to?" "Well, I could always try singing," she quipped, but she was serious in her answer, implying I had other choices I could go for, and she was aware of the options. _Damn, Sarah. You too? Come on, love. Cut me some slack!_ "That's not fair, Sarah. Not everybody has other talents or skills that they can employ, or want to, choose to employ." Cupping my face, she kissed me, then said, "Sorry, Mitch. I was teasing." "No, you were not. You were being a good friend," I countered, softly. "And I appreciate it. But, sometimes you have to let people make their own decisions, however much you love them." "Unfortunately, you're right. But, I'll be another one who will be worrying about you," she replied. "Please, Sarah. I don't want to sound insensitive, uncaring, selfish or ungrateful for all the love and attention, but you don't know how it is. The more people worry about me, the more difficult and complicated things get. I'm already up to my neck," I said, gently, trying not to hurt her feelings. "I understand, Mitch. It was my way of saying I love you. As I said, you're right. When you love somebody, you want to protect them. I hope, one day, Kathy gets it too." "Thank you, Sarah. I love you too. Another reason for me to be very careful. I think... I think Kathy got it... almost," I said. I thought Kathy was getting it, perhaps because of the changes in me, and the talk we had had. Sarah's eyes widened for a moment, and she asked, "Is she? Really?" "I don't know for sure, love, but that's the impression I got." She plastered her lips to mine kissing me soundly, then said, "Oh, I do hope so, Mitch. She worries about you, too much." "I know, but I'm happy to see that she's got a good man in her life, and her best friend around her, whenever she needs them." "Yeah, but your fan club is getting more members who love you," she joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but as I thought about it, there was a truth to her words. Dana was a new addition to my life, and to a certain extent Sarah was becoming another one, as a friend--and perhaps as a lover. "And I love all of them," I replied, not able to come up with any other response that was appropriate. I loved them all, but in different ways. Kissing her, I said, "Let's get going, or Kathy will give us a hard time." Putting my seat belt on, I started the car. I speeded up a bit, not overly so in the empty stretches, doing something like 70 instead of the designated 50. As we reached a junction, she directed us through a maze of side roads, and eventually to a main road. There wasn't much traffic, and whenever it looked like we would hit one of the trouble spots, Sarah redirected us to alternative routes. We managed to arrive a bit late, but considering everything, it wasn't bad. * * * * * To be continued... Author's NOTE: This story is being continued. It is published-- more or less on a weekly schedule (Monday or Tuesday)--at three web sites as listed in the header, in HTML format. At the time of writing, the total chapter count is 26. I plan to regularly revise the material, as it is being written and published, thus the next ASCII version would be chapters 21-30, after ch-30 is posted. Until then (i.e. ASCII versions of chapters 21-30 are made available), you can follow the rest of this story at any one of the three web sites. If you have skipped the first part, namely the Intro/ReadMe section "{ASS} REV Tales from an Unknown Corner intro 1/3," but managed to read all the 20 chapters, then please do return, and quickly browse through it, as there's some information that might be of assitance. You can direct your comments (anonymously) via: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/dai_wakizashi/www/contact.htm or, http://storiesonline.net/library/create_mail_form.php?id=1847 Thank you for reading. Dai <5th attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+