A Widow's Burden

A Widow's Burden [part 1 of 6]
By: AsylumSeeker (jmars_111@yahoo.com)

A WIDOW'S BURDEN CH. 01 By AsylumSeeker

It was Sunday evening when I stepped off the bus and found myself in yet another strange town in the dark of night. Only this time it was warm, and freezing rain wasn't pelting my face. I still didn't know why the hell I was here.

And why was I? Daisy had me tamed... great sex at night, decent chow at the diner in town, and a real job -- a job where I didn't have to look over one shoulder while wondering if the feds were hot on my trail. It was a real life, living in a place a guy could call home, with a sexy dame on one arm.

But no, Rochelle had to go and have another one of her visions and suddenly here I was, not knowing any more this time around than I had the first. An eight year-old kid sending me, a self-professed tough-guy, out of town on a bus? Are you fucking kidding me? My first thought was to ignore her, but there was something about that kid...

"She's a seer," Daisy had told me later that night as we lay in one another's arms, the heat from our frantic lovemaking radiating off of our sweat-moistened skin. "There's someone out there that needs your help."

"You're the one that talked me into sticking around," I had quickly pointed out, "and now all of a sudden you want to help me pack."

Fucking dames, I'd never figure them out.

And here I stood, still unsure why. It was warm enough to shed the jacket, but with my shoulder holster and trusty pistol tucked inside, the sight might not be much of a welcoming one, so I kept the jacket on.

The ride had given me time to think, time to try and put things into perspective. I was ticked off by the kid but I was beginning to acknowledge that she did have some kind of special talent; there were just too many coincidences to be explained any other way.

But she wasn't the one calling the shots, she was just the messenger. And if I was right about this, then who was? Fate? Karma? A higher power? Or was it the people themselves, fraught with emotion during times of great distress, somehow channeling this negative energy like a radio broadcast, and Rochelle was tuned into the same fucking station?

Geez, all of these crazy thoughts going through my head would've driven an ordinary man insane. This was when I made a pact with myself -- give it one day. If Rochelle had been right I should know something by the end of tomorrow. If not, I could honestly say that I -

It was right then when I thought my time on earth was up.

I was so busy thinking that I hadn't been paying attention. The bus had long since left me standing by the side of the road, which I apparently started to cross without giving it a second thought. I didn't even hear the car coming, just suddenly looked up to see a pair of bright headlights bearing down on me. Without thinking, just reacting, I turned to run... unfortunately I wasn't as fast as I used to be.

So, there are bright lights at the end of a guy's life, I thought to myself as I experienced a floating sensation, not quite sure in which direction I'd be pulled, down or up. I knew which direction I preferred to go in if given a choice in the matter.

And then I saw an angel with a bright halo surrounding her head, just like they said a guy would. Hands were lifting my head up, faint words reaching my ears.

"Are you okay?"

It was a dame, with the sweetest voice I'd ever heard, but this greeting to the afterlife wasn't quite what I'd expected. Then a sharp pain jarred me back to reality.

"It's my leg," I managed to communicate through gritted teeth.

I came to, or better yet came to my senses, to find myself sitting in the passenger seat of a car without having any memory of how I'd gotten there. I glanced over to see the blurry image of a dame with short dark hair and skin that matched. From what I could tell she was in her early twenties, a little younger and darker-skinned than Daisy, and quite attractive.

"We're almost there," she announced.

I didn't know where "there" was, but I groaned my acknowledgement. Was this the one I'd been sent here to help? It seemed this dame was the one helping me, at least to start off with.

The way I felt it wasn't likely I'd be going anywhere soon, except maybe to the hospital, if there even was one in these parts. Deciding I had plenty of time to get things figured out later, I stopped thinking so hard and just kept my eyes open.

"I'm Alice. What's your name?" she asked.

"Gerry," I told her. "Where we headed?"

"Mrs. Kingsley's boarding house, that's where I live," the dame explained. "It's not much further. We can call the doctor and get you checked out."

The initial sharp pain in my left leg had seemed to ebb and was more of a throbbing ache now, so I was hoping I might not be as bad off as I first thought. Took a hit to my head too, it hurt like hell, and I just knew there'd be a sizeable knot to go along with it. This wasn't the first time I'd landed in trouble like this, but I sure as hell hadn't seen this one coming.

The brief look at the town I got along the way made it clear it was larger than the one I'd just left. I could've asked her the name but it didn't really matter, now did it?

"I'm so sorry," the dame said, sounding all choked up after the shock of the accident began to wear off. "I didn't see you until it was too late. Please, forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive, it wasn't your fault, it just happened." I didn't tell her that I had a gut feeling this was meant to happen for one reason or another.

A minute later she pulled up in front of a large two-story house. A nice house, too. There was a large expanse of green grass and a sidewalk leading up to the steps of a covered wood porch that ran the length of the structure. White posts supported the sloped roof, and in between were railings except where the steps were. Several chairs and a swinging bench were situated beside a couple of small side tables.

"Nice place," I spoke up as she got out and walked to my side of the car.

Our intermittent conversation fell silent as she helped me out and to my feet. I looked pretty banged up as I glanced at my injured leg. The pants were torn and bloody on the outside part of the upper leg, but I didn't see any bones sticking out. Thank the heavens for small favors.

"Think you can walk?" the dame inquired.

"Guess we'll be finding out."

As it turned out I could... but not real well. And certainly not without her on my left side, her right arm around my shoulder to help support my bad side. Taking ginger steps, avoiding placing weight on the bad leg, we eventually reached the porch steps. With the railing to use I abandoned her help and managed on my own, and once reaching the top she took over again.

I wasn't feeling like such a tough guy at the moment, relying on a dame to help me do something as simple as this. Once inside she sat me down on a long couch and there I settled in for the moment as Alice disappeared.

Regardless of what might happen from this point forward, I made a quick decision that having a pistol under my left arm might not serve me well. Sliding the jacket off, the holster next, I shoved it under the back of the couch cushions and hoped that nobody would find it there before I had a chance to reclaim it. Then I put my jacket back on.

Meanwhile, in the background, an older dame I couldn't see was throwing a fit, clearly upset about my untimely arrival. Alice was keeping her dulcet tones quiet and so I couldn't hear but the noisier side of the conversation. It wasn't sounding like the news was being taken well at all.

When Alice returned she was visibly shaken. Things were awkward as we sat there together with me in pain and her periodically glancing down at the injuries I'd sustained, looking mighty guilty for her part in all of this. I felt bad for the dame, being so young and all. I figured this was likely the first accident she'd experienced.

"You live here," I recalled from earlier, making an effort to break the ice. "Work here too?"

Alice nodded. "I clean rooms, help with the cooking, do most of the cleaning, do the laundry. Me and Mrs. K, we get by okay. I've known her for years, since my mother started working here, bless her soul. We've grown very close, like family."

"Dr. Walker will be here shortly," Mrs. Kingsley announced as she made an appearance in the living room. "Would you care for some water, Mr...."

"Gerry," I filled in the blank. "Thanks, but I'm fine for the moment. Sorry to crash your party like this but I didn't exactly have a choice."

I could tell the old dame wasn't comfortable around me, and she didn't stick around for long, making up some excuse to skedaddle. That suited me just fine... I hadn't been enjoying her company either.

The faint sound of a car engine could be heard. When it did Alice turned toward the back of the couch, which was positioned in front of a large bay window next to the swinging bench outside on the porch.

"He's here, I'll be right back."

* * * * *

The doctor sewed me up like a torn shirt, said nothing was broken but I had a nasty sprain. Just my fucking luck. Mrs. Kingsley wasn't high on me staying there, of course, but the gray-haired doctor's argument prevailed.

And so I was left laying there on the couch as a new argument ensued, this one about where to put me. Again, the old dame wanted me out of sight -- carried upstairs into one of the two vacant rooms at the very least. After all, she couldn't have the other boarders coming down to breakfast in the morning to find me there.

The doctor knew how to handle the old dame; I'd give him credit for that. He promised to be back to take care of me first thing in the morning. Then she whispered something with worry written all over her wrinkled face. He just smiled, reached into his little black bag, and produced one hell of a big needle.

* * * * *

The next thing I knew it was morning. Sunlight was beginning to stream through the window and the half-open drapes.

"Good morning," Alice greeted as she emerged from what appeared to be an adjacent dining room holding a plate of food and a glass of orange juice. "Are you feeling any better?"

Still waking up, I rubbed my eyes as she patiently waited. Under the blanket someone had thoughtfully covered me with, I tried using the bad leg. It was stiff, along with the rest of me, and it protested my attempted use of it with pain. When I winced and gasped she had her answer.

"Just like new," I reported with a note of sarcasm.

When Alice smiled it seemed to brighten the whole room. It was radiant and went along nicely with her cute face. This dame was a real looker, and kind to go along with it; made the whole incident of the previous night seem so much less traumatic.

"I hope you're hungry." Again with that smile that warmed my heart as she leaned over to hand me the plate.

My gaze fixed on a large plate filled with three fried eggs, toast, bacon and sausage, and grits. "I am. This looks delicious, thanks so much."

"Made it myself," she said with a hint of pride, probably hoping to help repay me in some small way for the accident. "You enjoy it. The doctor will be here soon to check up on you."

I couldn't help but be drawn to her big brown eyes with flecks of gold, which were filled with such care and compassion. "Thank you so much, Alice. And please stop worrying, I'll be fine."

After eating she returned to pick up the dirty plate and utensils, which was just about the time when the doctor showed up. He cautiously lifted the blanket so as not to expose my bare legs to casual observers and gave the bad one the once-over.

He gave me another shot to "take the edge off", or so he told me, and said by the time he'd finished breakfast I should be ready for him to change the dressing and get me up and around for a walk to test things out. I didn't bother telling him that I hated tests, figured it wouldn't do me much good anyway.

I watched as the boarders descended the stairs, working-class people, a dame in a dress and a guy in a sports jacket, but not together. They gave me a curious glance before passing through the living room and into the dining room. I had little doubt that Mrs. Kingsley would quickly explain away my presence at the breakfast table.

There was a knock a few minutes later. Alice passed by, giving me a quick wink and a smile, and then opened the front door. She told whoever it was that breakfast was in progress, offering them the option of returning later or waiting on the porch. They chose the latter.

"Who was that?" I inquired as she returned to the dining room.

"Dan Nichols, he owns the bank," she briefly responded.

Fate, karma, call it what you will, somebody somewhere was pulling the strings in order to have me resting where I was and the visitors just outside occupying the swinging bench killing time. Rochelle was making a believer out of me after all.

"Are you sure she'll sell?" one man asked, his voice uncertain.

"Whether she likes it or not Mrs. K has to," the second one, more confident, assured the first. "She's up to her ears in debt. She's been trying, but once she lost her husband and the added income he was bringing in, she's been getting further and further behind."

They fell silent for a few moments. "My old man sells insurance. Too bad her husband didn't have any."

"Actually he did," the second one announced. "But there was a suicide clause. Maybe he didn't know, or at the bitter end he didn't care, who knows."

"Suicide? What happened?"

This was when my ears perked up. Again, I wasn't exactly sure why I was here or who needed the help, but clearly this conversation was intended to be overheard, and I was the one intended to overhear it.

"Fred retired from the wood mill a few years back, but when money got tight he went back to work," the second one began. "What with the war going on and the need for raw materials, it seemed like the best choice. And for a spell it was, got them through for as long as it lasted. But Fred, he's an older guy and that was hard work, his body couldn't take the abuse for long and he was let go.

"That wasn't the only thing. That was part of it I'm sure, along with their debt to the bank, his failing health, it all added up to more than he could handle. After he was let go he drove home, walked downstairs into the basement, and shot himself in the right temple. End of story."

"I feel sorry for his wife," the first one offered, a note of sincerity in his voice. "If he'd gone out a different way she wouldn't be in this trouble."

"The house would be paid for and I wouldn't be foreclosing on it," the second one agreed, his voice sounding cold and greedy. "Hey, not my fault, just doing my job."

But something told me there was more behind this story than he was telling, and it was suddenly my job to find out what it was. At least now I knew why I'd ended up here.

* * * * *

I was feeling pretty damned good by the time the doctor finished eating. Once the other boarders left for work he changed the dressing and, with Alice's help, got me up and onto my feet. We walked around the room a couple of times to get the blood flowing, after which I met with Mrs. Kingsley and agreed to rent an upstairs room for the week.

My two helpers got me up the stairs and into bed. I was ready for a rest after that workout and drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

I was awakened mid-morning by a soft tapping sound. I told the visitor to enter and wasn't surprised to see that it was Alice, who was checking up on my welfare and brought along a glass of juice.

"Mind if I stay for a spell?" she asked, dazzling me once more with that radiant smile of hers.

"I'd appreciate the company."

"Why are you here?" she wondered, and it was a fair question.

Because this dame I've been shacking up with has this niece with a special talent, she can see people in trouble, and so this eight year-old kid sent me here to find that person. And in order for me to find that person I had to get run over and half-killed by you, thank you very much. That's why I'm here. But of course I couldn't tell her the truth, who'd believe it? I'd be carted off in a strait jacket to that "other" kind of hospital.

"Just passing through, figured I'd lay over for a day or two. Hadn't counted on it being for a week, though."

Her smile faded, replaced by a look of distress. "I know, I feel so badly about what happened."

I chuckled and told her, "I was just kidding, really. I know you said your mom worked here, and now it's just you and that grouchy old dame."

Alice was quick to defend her. "She's been understandably upset since the loss of her husband, Fred. He died only two weeks ago. I'm surprised she's holding up as well as she has been. They were so close. I feel so sorry for what she's been put through. Would you mind if I lay down beside you for a little while?"

Wow, I sure as hell hadn't seen that one coming. Was this why she had come up to my room, to lie beside me? What business did a young dame have with a guy twice her age? I must have missed something.

"I'm not sure Mrs. K would look fondly on the two of us getting cozy, if you catch my drift... but I'm not at all opposed to the idea."

That earned me another one of her heartwarming smiles. "She drives into the city three times a week on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays with the church women to raise money for the war effort and won't be back until shortly before supper."

Today was Monday, I thought.

And so her body aligned with mine, my dressed wound facing up as I lay on my right side, her facing me but the covers providing a modest barrier. Alice wasn't looking at me as her head was facing down, my face pressing into her dark, scented tight curls of hair.

"Why aren't you snuggling up with a boyfriend?" I wondered aloud, not that I minded the attention.

That innocent comment must have hit a nerve because I felt her body stiffen. When Alice didn't answer I didn't press the issue, instead keeping my trap shut for fear of saying something else unintentionally hurtful that I'd regret.

"I was so proud of Trent," the dame finally spoke up, struggling to find her voice. "He was hand selected for a position in a new, all-black flying unit and two weeks later shipped off to Alabama. He was so excited, and I was excited for him, for us. We wanted to marry beforehand but it all happened so quick that we really didn't have time. He promised me we would after he finished flight training, before he shipped out overseas, but..."

There was no need to say anything more. The tone of her trembling voice answered the lingering question before it was asked. So many fine young men, so many lives being tragically lost -- sometimes before they even had a chance to start the fight.

"I've missed being in the arms of a man," she admitted in a soft whisper, speaking from the heart. I could tell she was crying despite her best efforts to hide it from me. But I didn't rat her out, instead pretending not to take notice.

We lay there like that for a time, the dame spilling tears of sadness that unburdened the heaviness in her soul. Then her head turned up, those big brown eyes with flecks of gold peering into mine, searching for something... kindness maybe? Fortitude?

Whatever it was Alice must have found it because a wide smile returned to her lips and her gaze lowered to look at my mouth. I wasn't positive but I sensed the young dame was sending me a signal. Hey, I'm a guy, right? So I took my shot.

Our first kiss was a gentle brushing of lips upon lips, warm breaths rushing over one another's face. Having made the initial move I waited for her to make the next, her eyes closing as her mouth pressed harder upon mine. What started as tentative slowly became more passionate, waning confidence being inspired to greater heights.

Her mouth opened to welcome my tongue inside. It entwined with hers in an erotic embrace that had a sense of desperation to it. My hands cupped her face, pulling her more tightly against me, fingers caressing the silky smooth cheeks. Her lips kissed mine harder, faster, tongues hungrily devouring one another in a frenzy.

Hearts beating faster, our breathing heavier, I was aware of my growing desire for her, wondering if she was happy with sharing what we were... or was her physical need also mounting? The sexual tension was present between two unlikely strangers in a most unlikely place during the most tumultuous of times.

I didn't make a move, instead allowing her to establish how far things between us would progress. I didn't have to wait too long before I had my answer.

"Have you ever made love to a woman of color before?" she asked in a husky tone, her lips kissing my neck as she waited for an answer.

Alice suddenly looked up at my face to see me grinning. "What? What is it?"

And then I belted out what was fast becoming my trademark answer. "All dames are one color or another."

"That wasn't -"

I silenced her with a kiss. When I pulled away I looked deeply into her eyes and revealed, "Yes, I have, and it was a beautiful experience."

She smiled warmly. "Make me feel beautiful, Gerry, make me feel wanted," she requested. "Remind me what it feels like to be a real woman again."

Alice got up and stood facing me, removing her dress and undergarments neither slowly nor quickly but with a sense of purpose. I watched as she revealed more and more of the ebony body beneath, no longer hidden by garments. It was slender, shapely, her upright breasts smaller than Daisy's but no less gorgeous to my eyes.

When she was ready I lifted the sheet and blanket and she moved underneath, finding my body to be just as nude as hers. I savored the luxuriant soft heat of her against the rugged, injured warmth of mine.

She settled on her left side facing me, trembling slightly, I guessed with nervousness. Sure couldn't blame a dame as young as her for feeling this way under these unusual circumstances. I was a complete stranger to her and to me, well, she was my... my savior, of sorts.

We had plenty of time. With several hours at our disposal we took things slow. I'm not sure I'd ever spent so much time caressing a woman's body as I did Alice's. My right arm under her neck, my left hand rubbed the back of her head, down her smooth back to her fine ass, exploring the firm cheeks and tracking a finger along the crack.

I did this over and over while listening to her steady breathing, relishing her companionship. Our kissing was intermittent, sometimes growing frantic before our mouths backed away, lips kissing faces and necks. I eventually reached down to lift her right leg over my waist, fingers gently tracing along the quivering labia of her sex.

I could hear the change in her breathing pattern as it became faster and heavier. Her upper torso leaned away from me, onto the back, showing me her smaller but perky breasts. I could see the large brown nipples were all big, stiff, and throbbing. Talking about stiff, I was starting to get that way too.

After gazing down at her chest my eyes trailed up to her brilliantly smiling face. Damn, this dame was gorgeous when she was being treated like a woman! The final wrinkles of the best part of me disappeared at the mere sight. Her coy smile, the blaze of passion in her big brown eyes made it clear that she was ready for more.

Alice felt what I had to offer bulging against her flat lower belly. Shifting her body slightly higher she positioned my rigid manhood until it was throbbing against the length of her sex. I leaned my head down, lips kissing a path from a shoulder down to the closest breast, licking the entire surface until finally tending to the pulsing nipple with lips, tongue, and front teeth.

Her back arched, arms coiling around my neck, pressing her chest harder against my mouth. I heard her moans of ecstasy, felt her shudders of arousal, and smelled a hint of her growing desire as it hung in the air around us. That was when the dame gently guided me onto my back and took control of the situation.

"I'll take it easy, try not to hurt you," she promised in a whisper. Then the dame added, as a playful afterthought, "At least not too much."

A hand was around my cock, stroking its length, getting me as rigid as possible. Then, holding it at the base, her crotch lowered. Going by feel the dame rubbed the sensitized head up and down the outer folds before working it into the hot, wet slit. I could feel wetness glazing the tip. Moments later it was throbbing at the opening.

I reached my hands down to grasp her slender, shapely waist. Gingerly at first I pulled down as she lowered, my cock spearing partially into the awaiting canal. She was tight, resisting my penetrations. Oh yeah, I'd be enjoying this, opening her up after a lapse of activity.

Initially I felt a natural inclination to thrust upward, but this desire was thwarted by a jolt of pain that began at my left hip and charged down my leg like a herd of wild horses. Twitching noticeably and softly groaning from the surge of discomfort, I quickly stopped while deciding to let her do the bulk of the work.

Alice, hips wiggling and pelvis rotating forward and back, descended lower. To say that she felt nice would've been a huge understatement. I loved the way her canal widened to accept me, closing around the best part of me, surrounding my cock with wet heat and delightful pressure.

With half my length embedded inside, the cautiously slow, rhythmic ride began. With my hands holding her waist, following her movements, we loved one another. Soon her body accepted all of me. The dame may have been young, but she knew what she was doing at the same time. Not like Daisy, not quite at her level, but she was doing great as it was.

It wasn't long before we fell into a nice rhythm with her tight pussy rising and falling, compressing before tugging on the skin surrounding the shaft. We were both moaning our pleasure as we let go of our worries and focused instead on the merging of our eager, needy flesh.

In my condition I couldn't do the things to her I wanted, but enjoyed it all just the same. It was probably about lunchtime because my stomach grumbled several times, and light was filling the room, illuminating her active form. I took several opportunities to gaze up at her, admiring her jiggling breasts and her face making its ever-changing expressions of delight.

As Alice neared climax her movements turned frenzied. It hurt my leg but I let the dame have her fun, not stopping her or indicating my distress. After a few moments her breathing became very heavy as she got closer to the sexual release she was craving.

When she gasped and her body clenched hard, I knew the moment had arrived. The spasms of ecstasy commenced and violently shook her form, sort of like a backwards rodeo, where the rider was giving the bull the ride instead of the other way around. I grimaced when the pain intensified, and was grateful when her orgasm finished and her body relaxed.

The dame fell forward against my chest, delivering fast, hard kisses of appreciation upon my mouth. At the same time my hands went for her chest, cupping her tits and giving them a good squeeze to remind myself how great they felt as the rigid nipples pulsated in my palms.

"Oh Gerry, that felt wonderful, baby," she breathlessly whispered, almost too softly to be heard.

Afterwards she straightened up, this time to get me off. After asking me how I liked it I told her to keep it slow, more out of concern for my injuries than any other reason, and so she did. I was good for another couple of minutes, the relaxed pace extending my usual duration.

At the end my balls drew tightly against the base of my cock and I grunted aloud, body twitching with each ejaculation. Needing to pound into her I ignored the pain, pulling her down as I managed to drive upward, cock squirting the contents of my balls at the end of each stroke. Sweating as much from pain as from pleasure I rode the wave of ecstasy for as long as it lasted.

It seemed that was enough for Alice, too. As I was finishing up she enjoyed a second orgasm, her weak cries filling the room as she stiffened and shook. When we were both finished she lay down alongside me, lips lightly kissing my face, our hands continuing the curious explorations.

"Please tell me this won't be the only time," she pleaded with a hint of desperation in her sweet voice.

I flashed her a grin. "Don't worry, sweetheart, you're already a habit I can't quit."

A muffled downstairs clock began to chime. I hadn't heard it earlier, but there was no mistaking it now. The familiar sound indicated it was two in the afternoon. Damn, time sure flies when a guy's having fun.

"I should get busy," Alice announced. "After I get cleaned up, before I get supper going, is there anything I can bring you?"

"Got anything around here to read?"

"Mrs. K has a stack of weekly Tribune newspapers in the basement, some magazines too," the dame enlightened me.

"Bring me up the last few weeks' worth of the local paper." I wanted to read if there had been anything in there about Fred's death, and any possible clues that could help me out. "Thanks, Alice."

The dame smiled that smile again before getting up, grabbing her discarded clothes, and leaving the room naked. Luckily I was already spent.

A thought suddenly occurred to me. "Hey, Alice?"

She hesitated at the door. "Yes?"

"I don't mean to frighten you, but I tucked a holster and pistol in the cushions of the couch," I mentioned. "A guy can't be too careful."

"I know, I found it when I was tidying up after you came up here. Don't worry, it's safe. I have it in a drawer in my room in the basement. It'll be there until you can move around again."

I flashed her a thankful smile. "I owe you one."

Again with that smile. "I will be collecting."

A Widow's Burden Ch. 5

A Widow's Burden Ch. 5 [part 5 of 6]
By: AsylumSeeker (jmars_111@yahoo.com)

A WIDOW'S BURDEN CH. 05 By AsylumSeeker

Just as Alice had predicted, Bradley parked his car out front about twenty minutes after noon. I was sitting on the swinging bench taking in the nice weather while reading through another couple of magazines pretending to take little notice of his arrival at the boarding house. But I noticed -- oh hell yeah, I noticed.

I may have pretended to be reading, but instead my mind was gradually sifting through all of the clues I'd learned to this point. I recalled quite clearly what the sheriff had told me about an outsider sticking out like a sore thumb, but seeing a boarder coming and going as scheduled, as neighbors were accustomed to seeing, a routine like that could make a guy practically invisible... even to the nosiest of neighbors.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, came into my mind as I considered the letter and pictures again. Maybe Fred hadn't knocked her up, could be he found out she was seeing more than just him, and when he discovered her cheating ways he skedaddled right out of there and more than halfway across the country.

But the letter made this possibility unlikely. That dame had poured out her heart and soul onto that piece of stationery. Dames were a specialty of mine and I could tell Charlotte loved Fred more than her own life. There was no way I could see her cheating on him any more than he had on her.

But a baby... that could shake a relationship to its very foundation, especially if this was something Fred hadn't planned on. Although when a guy was having his way with a dame the risk was always there like it or not, which got me to thinking about Alice. I'd been having a high time with her and was taking the very same risk.

This might explain why Fred ended up here of all places. If a jilted lover was trying to track down the man who had so cruelly abandoned her in her greatest time of need, she might not consider this place.

Since he worked the piers in a large coastal city it only stood to reason that after he skedaddled he'd end up in similar surroundings to ply the trade he knew. Maybe Fred really didn't want to be found and tried his best to lay low, which could account for his sudden appearance here.

But while escaping his responsibilities as a father he still couldn't completely let go of the love they shared, keeping the reminders I'd found of a past life he'd left long ago.

If Charlotte had given birth in 1912 that meant her kid would be, oh, right at about thirty years old. I had pegged Bradley in his early thirties, but I could have easily overestimated by a year or two, placing him at about the right age. Of course this was one hell of a long shot, but one still worth looking into all the same.

Grabbing my crutches I decided to take a walk to the small business district. First of all my stomach was grumbling with the stirrings of hunger, and I thought I just might drop by and visit with the sheriff for a few minutes after eating lunch out.

I wasn't about to travel all the way to San Francisco and back to look into my hunch but maybe he'd be agreeable to sending a telegram asking if the law on the other end of the line might. And, failing that, I could probably hire myself a private dick to do the legwork if necessary.

* * * * *

As it turned out I wasn't the only one hungry. The diner where I'd bought the sheriff a coffee was quite busy and there were no open tables. But when I saw him and he saw me, Gordon smiled and gestured for me to join him. It was beginning to look like things were going my way today.

"Are you on good terms with the San Francisco Police Department?" I asked after ordering the lunch special.

He looked at me thoughtfully before flashing a curious smile. "You big city slickers make me laugh. Trying to flesh out another far-fetched theory?"

"Maybe. Like I just asked..."

He leaned forward over an empty plate, placing his forearms on the table in front of him one over the other. "Can't say one way or the other, I've never had any reason to contact them before. Why, are you about to give me one?"

So I told him what I found out -- about Fred's past lover, Charlotte, the letter he'd saved, the pictures I'd stumbled across showing the dame was knocked up. And then my theory that he dropped her like a hot potato and came here to hide out, start life all over again.

"While it's all very interesting, especially as I'd never heard this story before, I just can't see how this is leading to any basis for an investigation. Don't get me wrong, I'm impressed with what you're finding, which is more than I had, but how does this add up to murder?"

"Bradley, the boarder," I revealed. "He had opportunity, takes every Wednesday afternoon off, but until now there was no motive. Only now I think I have one. There's a possibility he's the son of Fred's jilted lover. Do the math, it works out nicely."

The lawman nodded. "Yes, it seems everything works out nicely in that head of yours. So what information are you seeking from the San Francisco Police Department if I did decide to ask?"

"I'd like them to look into the birth records of Bradley, uh..." I trailed off, acting as if trying to recall his last name while I was actually on a fishing trip.

"Davidson," the lawman offered.

"Yeah, that's it, Bradley Davidson, born in 1912 to his mother, Charlotte Davidson."

The sheriff didn't appear to be convinced. "What if I do? Even if they confirm your suspicions that he's the son of Fred's jilted lover, there isn't any hard evidence linking him to the alleged murder. It would be sheer speculation at best."

I grinned, sensing I just might be able to convince him to make the request after all. "You get them to confirm his identity and I'll rattle his cage, get him talking."

The waitress arrived, delivering a burger on rye with a bottle of cola. I took a bite and chewed on the hot sandwich as the sheriff carefully mulled over my proposition. He wasn't a rash man, every action he took was carefully thought out. A guy could respect that. Rash could get a person in trouble, or worse.

"I won't do it, not for you," he finally decided, and my stomach sank. "But I will out of my great respect for Mrs. Kingsley. Could be days before I hear anything back, you know."

I nodded my understanding, feeling my energy returning. "I'll stay in town until you do."

He left, presumably to get busy fulfilling my request on the behalf of Mrs. Kingsley, but I think he was doing it because he knew it was worth checking out. He just didn't want to admit that a smart-assed big city slicker like me had gotten the better of him on his own turf.

I finished lunch, which quieted my stomach, and washed it down with the rest of the cola. Leaving enough dough on the table to cover the cost and a tip I got to my feet, pulled the crutches under my shoulders, and proceeded down the main street with no particular destination in mind.

When I passed by a small bookstore I decided to go inside. Seeing as how I was going to be here for a while longer it couldn't hurt to pick up something to read. I liked crime mysteries and found that section to peruse the available titles.

There was "The Corpse Steps Out", "The Wrong Murder", "The Right Murder", all with John J. Malone who was a tough guy just like me, written by Georgiana Ann Craig. Who could imagine a dame writing the role of a tough guy?

And then there were two by Elizabeth Daly, "Unexpected Night" and "Deadly Nightshade", which were also possibilities. What was with these dames? Maybe this was because tough guys like me had more important things to do than write.

But then one jumped right out at me. It was titled "The G-String Murders" and was written by Gypsy Rose Lee. The title by itself made me smile, so I looked closer. It appeared to be set in a burlesque theater where a detective was trying to solve murders where strippers were being found strangled to death with their own g-strings.

Now this was one only a dame could write, and I could respect this. It looked interesting and I was into dames so what the hell, I picked it up. It might help me pass the time.

I didn't want to consider the possibility that the answer, when we heard back, might shoot my theory all to hell, because I had nothing left to go on. There simply was no other direction in which to turn. This could only mean that I had to be onto something... right?

* * * * *

As I returned to the house I noticed Bradley's car was gone. Mounting the steps I located Alice in the kitchen chopping vegetables as she began supper preparations. She turned when I walked in, offering a warm, welcoming smile.

"I see that Bradley left," I remarked.

"Yes, he went upstairs shortly after you disappeared and a half hour later came bounding down the steps and out the front door, telling me he'd be back in time to eat," she shared. "He usually just sits and reads, so I thought it a little unusual.

"How about you? Where did you go running off to? Did you get any lunch?"

"Yes, I grabbed a burger in town and stopped by the bookstore," I related, holding the book up for her to see.

Upon reading the title her eyes rolled. "You're just a dirty old man with his mind in the gutter."

I couldn't help but widely grin. "Yes ma'm, and proud of it. I'll be on the porch. Give a shout if you need any help."

"What, with my g-string?" she playfully quipped.

* * * * *

And so for the rest of that day and all of the following Thursday all I could do was patiently wait. In the evenings I gathered around the living room radio with the others, listening to the latest Adventures of Thin Man and Amos and Andy, to name a few. During the day I read my book or took awkward walks as I mastered the crutches.

I tried my best not to give any more than brief attention to Bradley despite my growing suspicions. And Lillian, well, that dame still held a grudge against me for the way I'd side-stepped her that day at the mill, and I was more than happy to ignore her and be ignored in kind.

Just when it seemed Friday might not ever arrive, it did. I awoke to the sounds of heavy rains, bright flashes of lightning, followed by claps of thunder that shook the house.

A great day to stay inside, I thought to myself, and cuddle up with a sexy dame like Alice. Only I would find out at breakfast that this wasn't going to be allowed to happen. On account of the rain Mrs. Kingsley canceled her usual trip into the city.

As if this wasn't bad enough, the storm hung around through Saturday. It wasn't until mid-Sunday morning when the last of it passed over and the sun began to peek out from behind the heavy clouds.

I'd kept to the house for all that time. I finished reading my book, read through the magazines in the basement, listened to the radio... I did just about all I could think of to keep myself from going stir crazy.

Reminding me on Sunday afternoon that the week was up, I paid Mrs. K for another one, hoping that this wasn't going to be anything I'd have to repeat again. The sheriff had to get an answer back this week.

Sunday afternoon I returned the crutches to the basement as it appeared the leg sprain was all healed up. The stitches were still in me, but I'd take a knife and dig those out in another week or two after the long, dry scab was gone.

"Up for a game of gin rummy?" Bradley asked from out of the blue.

We'd had little contact beyond polite greetings, essentially acting up to this point like two ships passing in the night. I was wondering why he was turning friendly all of a sudden, but I saw no good reason not to.

Smiling warmly I answered, "Sure, sounds good."

Bradley smiled back. "Great. I'll run upstairs and get my cards, meet you at the dining room table."

Just as he started shuffling the deck Mrs. K and Alice returned from church services. I spied the old dame eyeing us suspiciously as she passed through to the kitchen.

"You're not gambling are you?" she inquired suspiciously. "Gambling's the devil's work and I won't tolerate it under my own roof."

Bradley offered her a disarming smile. Apparently he'd learned how to handle the old dame over the time he'd been staying there. "No, Mrs. K, we're not."

"Alright, I'm taking you two at your word."

Turning his attention back to me Bradley shared, "Me and Fred would play a few friendly hands of cards on Sunday afternoons. It was enjoyable just to sit here, talk about things, and try to best the other. I sure do miss those times."

I could see the real game Bradley was playing, and it had nothing to do with gin rummy. He must have known that I'd been sniffing around, so now he was trying to cast some doubt. The truth of the matter was, I still couldn't be sure if he had a motive, not until the sheriff got an answer back. So I had to take everything at face value until I knew more.

"You're right-handed," I observed as he dealt the cards.

"Yeah, why?" he responded... a little uneasily, I sensed.

"No reason, just noticed is all." It was best to keep him guessing.

As the game continued he kept the casual conversation going. "What's your story, Gerry? What brings you here? Obviously it's not a job."

We took turns picking up and discarding cards.

"I'm a small-town sheriff," I divulged, rattling off the Midwestern town and state. "Not much for traveling but had some vacation piling up, a friend suggested I see the country. Never figured I'd be run over and end up here. How about you? How long you been here for?"

Little did he know I was setting him up, offering him a chance to send me sniffing after a dead-end.

He picked and discarded before answering. "About four months I'd guess, give or take. Seen a few other boarders come and go. Had one that smoked in his room, got Mrs. Kingsley all kinds of upset. Finally Fred had to intervene, kicked him out, the man promised he'd get back at them. Seems Fred did it all on his own, but maybe not."

I could ask Mrs. K to confirm this but I figured Bradley was telling the truth, at least about the occurrence, because it was too easy to disprove. As for the hint at a possible motive, I wasn't buying any of it.

"Really?" I asked, feigning interest. "Got a name?"

"Frank, Frank... Fletcher, that's his name. Frank Fletcher. Go check him out."

I smirked at the rabbit-trail that was leading nowhere except away from Bradley, and just before he was planning on leaving. Drawing a card, discarding one, I laid down my hand. "Gin rummy."

"It appears lady luck is on your side," he spoke as he reeled in the cards to be shuffled once again. "It's fortunate for me we aren't gambling."

Yeah, except that we are, I thought, just not for dough. And I just won the jackpot.

* * * * *

After supper we gathered around the radio, and then I retired to my room. Growing suspicious of Bradley I checked the bottom dresser drawer and found the letter and pictures missing. My mind recalled Alice's report of his unusual behavior while I'd gone into town and now I knew what he'd been up to.

I straightened up and took a deep breath, thinking things through. Those items had served their purpose; they'd linked Fred to an illegitimate child, and by themselves proved nothing. But what was even more telling was that Bradley thought them important enough to steal -- and that spoke volumes.

It was time to rattle his cage, and I was just the guy to do it. All I needed to do was to wait for the right time.

* * * * *

I went down for breakfast on Monday morning, biding my time until the boarders left for their respective jobs. And shortly before it was time for Mrs. K to run off to the city I returned to my bed, revisiting my favorite passages from the book I'd earlier purchased, knowing I'd be having a visitor soon. I had intentionally left the door open.

"I'd knock," Alice announced, "but..."

I looked up to see the dame looking good in her simple thin white dress but glistening tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Oh Gerry," the dame suddenly gushed.

I was immediately concerned and started to get up. "What? Is everything -"

She ran forward, quickly positioning herself on top of me. Her lips silenced my words just as her warm, soft body was felt upon mine.

"I was so scared you'd leave me before we had a chance to be together," her voice desperately shared. She hugged me tightly. "I'm so glad you're still here!"

Go figure, a dame actually wanted a guy like me, and a beautiful one at that. She must have taken a moment to get ready because I could smell her freshly-applied perfume filling my nose as I breathed in the flowery scent.

I guessed she must have really been missing my companionship because it wasn't long before I felt a hand squeezing my package, encouraging its growth. And it responded although admittedly slowly, but at my age sex was no longer a quick conquest but rather an experience to be fully savored, like a fine French wine.... and it was time for me to pop this dame's cork.

She straightened up, her legs straddling my waist as she frantically pulled the dress up and off as if the garment was on fire and burning her skin. As it turned out it wasn't the dress that was on fire but rather her sleek, dark-skinned body that was hot to the touch. The bra was next, allowing me to enjoy the view of her glorious breasts and those large, swollen brown nipples unimpeded.

"Come on, Gerry," she whispered with frustration.

"What?" I asked with a quiet chuckle. "We've got, what, four hours of alone-time?"

Her brown eyes, with flecks of gold, met mine. "I need you now, baby. We'll take it slower next time, okay?"

Apparently I wasn't reacting quickly enough to suit her overriding need -- or maybe she remembered there were three boxes of Fred's clothes in the basement that fit well enough for me to wear -- when her fingers grabbed my shirt and ripped it open to expose my chest, sending buttons clattering across the wood floor.

Suddenly feeling a little nervous that in her haste she might try the same with Fred's pants and grab something else by accident, I reached down and made a point of demonstrating equal enthusiasm to expose the best part of me. The motion appeared to appease her for the moment.

Alice changed positions, coming to rest on her left side with her head at my crotch, her legs closed and pointing towards my head.

She requested, "Take my panties off."

As she went to work bringing life to my awakening cock with those soft fingers, lips, and wet tongue, I gripped the waistband of the last remaining item still on her body and tugged it down her shapely thighs, calves, and then off her bare feet. Next I separated her legs, widening them to expose what I hungered for most.

As my cock was responding to her stimulation, I kissed and lightly nibbled on her inner thighs, slowly working closer to her crotch. All the while my eyes were open, gazing upon the gorgeous view of the dark, tight curls flanking the puffy folds of her labia. I soon had her moaning as my oral ministrations stoked the fire in her loins.

No sooner had I achieved complete hardness than she was pulling her body away from my advancing mouth when I was just a couple of inches away from the final destination. In her haste the dame didn't realize I was about to teach her a lesson in pleasure but instead sat upright to straddle my erection.

Alice was on fire where it counted most, her hot pussy nearly singeing my cock as she settled down atop it. Her vibrating hips and pelvis anxiously worked me deep and began riding the best part of me with the best part of her.

I groaned my delight, arms reaching out, hands gripping her slender waist. My hips thrust upward to grind my crotch against hers to multiply the pleasure. Alice responded in kind before rising back up, her canal tugging upward on the shaft before dropping back down. She was wet, really wet, and her nectar was soaking me.

"Oh baby, so good," she weakly cried out, her body shuddering.

I wasn't much on talk myself, what with being the strong, silent type and all. Not that I minded her whispered cries, those were good to hear. I kept giving her what she so obviously craved, cramming all I had into her sex. The dame responded, riding me faster and harder, apparently desperate to climax.

It didn't take her long at all. Must have been she was anticipating this, as if Mrs. K's surprising decision not to go into the city on Friday had really left her hanging. This was all fine and good as far as I was concerned. It helped my ego a bit to think I was still this good at my age at pleasing dames, especially the younger ones.

I sure was glad we had the whole place to ourselves because Alice didn't hold anything back. Lifting and lowering her body at a frantic pace had the bed loudly squeaking, and her loud, high-pitched cries echoed through the house. Her body teetered on the verge for a few moments before reaching climax.

Her body clenched tightly as the orgasm took hold. Her already tight pussy wrapped even harder around my erection, the walls squeezing as her frenzied movements continued, this time her body wildly convulsing at the same time. It felt like she was melting around my driving cock.

By the time her spasms of ecstasy dissipated, my ears were ringing from all the noise she'd been making. With her initial need satisfied I slowed things down, teaching this dame the virtue of patience.

Instead of a thoroughbred charging across a field at full speed, which was how she'd been riding me, now I slowed to a gallop. It was pleasant having full use of my bad leg again. Rocking my feet from the soles to the heels, rhythmically thrusting my cock in and out of her pussy with my hands on her shoulders pulling her down against me, we intimately enjoyed one another.

Twice more her beautiful body stiffened in orgasm, and feeling her enjoying the third finally tamed my wild streak. As her quivering pussy clenched around my cock I gave in to the building sensations of tingling delight, allowing her sex to drain mine.

I softly grunted with each ejaculation, silently hoping this wouldn't result in an illegitimate child. I wasn't planning on living forever, but I sure didn't want to take one in the head like poor old Fred had.

Night school suprise

Night school suprise
By: oppyrose (Greenside80@yahoo.com)

Night school surprise

I had recently registered for a night class that was twice a week for three hours at a time, and I wasn't to thrilled about it, but I needed to take it. I needed to acquire a certificate in order to advance in my work and be able to charge more money. I had no idea what I was in for or how many people would be in the class. I just got in my truck and headed over to some private school on the other side of town. Upon arriving there, I noticed that this school was much classier than any school that I had ever been to. I walked in and followed the signs to the classroom.

I found the class and walked in, noticing that there were about six other people in the room sitting at desks. I walked toward an empty desk and grabbed a seat. As I was looking around, the teacher caught my eye. She had her back turned towards me, as she was writing on the board, and I noticed that she was wearing a pair of shorts, and a pretty tight shirt. It was summer time so I guess that they could wear shorts in school. She looked fucking hot and I began daydreaming about banging her on the desk right there.

I sat there with a hard on as she turned around to greet the class, and I quickly recognized her. She was one of my customers from my landscaping business and I had a minor situation with her once. Me and a buddy had been working at her house a few months ago, and she had overheard a conversation I was having, with me telling my buddy about how much I would love to bang her. Ever since then she hadn't really talked to me much and now she was my teacher and I knew I was in for a long night. I just sat back and the class proceeded. I sat and kept watching her every move because she was pretty fucking hot and I had the advantage now, since I was in class and I could stare at her all that I wanted.

About an hour and a half into class, we had a recess for thirty min. Everybody got up and headed outside to have a cigarette. I figured that I would just wander outside to get some air, but as I walked past her desk, she called out to me. I walked over to her desk, and she told me to have a seat. I thought I was in trouble, but she began to thank me for the work that I had done at her home recently. I told her that it was not a problem and that I was just doing my job. We then began to chat about work and why I was in the class, and our conversation actually went pretty well.

She asked me if I could cut down a huge tree that was in her yard, and I told her right away that it was going to be an expensive job. She looked a bit concerned and asked me if I knew how much she would be looking at. I didn't know the exact cost, but I new that it was going to be a pain in the ass so I wanted to get paid. She tried to bargain with me to see if I could do it for a cheap price, and I told her that I would think about it. Our class was about to start, and she asked me if we could talk about it after class. I told her that I would hang around, and she told me to meet her in the teachers lounge on the second floor because there was going to be another class in here after ours. I agreed and made my way back to my desk. For the rest of the class, I pondered what price I would give her for doing the job. The second half of the class went by pretty quickly, and once the bell rang, I got up and told her that I would meet her downstairs. I headed down, and located the lounge. I walked into the room, and it sure was a lounge. It had a big couch, a small kitchen and a twin size bed against the wall. No wonder people had to pay so much to go to these private schools. I walked in and was staring at the small bed, when I got shoved from behind onto the bed. I fell onto the bed, and turned around to see whom the hell had pushed me.

As I looked up, I was greeted by her devilish smile. She pushed me onto my back, and proceeded to climb on top of me. I didn't know what to expect, but I had to admit that I was starting to get pretty horny with her sitting on top of me. She just smiled as she stared down at me. I didn't know what I should do, but she quickly took care of that.

She got a bit closer to my face, and asked me if I thought about the little comment that I had made in her garage. I thought I was in trouble now, but she just kept smiling. She slowly lifted up her shirt, revealing a black lace bra, tightly squeezing her tits inside of it. I placed my hands on her hips as she leaned forward and kissed me. I reached up and slowly slid the straps of her bra down and then began to reach around and undid her bra.

Her huge tits popped out and I immediately began to squeeze and suck on them as she placed her hand behind my head. She ran her fingers through my hair as I sucked on her very hard nipples. I then reached down towards the area were our crotches were and began to undo her shorts. She helped me by standing up and taking them off for me. She then slid down her panties and her clean-shaven pussy was now visible to me and ready to be inserted. She walked to me and undid my shorts as well, and slid them off. She then took off my boxers and my throbbing hard cock sprang free. She quickly began to climb on top of me, while saying that we had to be quick because the next class would be ending in about fifteen min.

She straddled my cock and slowly inserted the tip inside her sweet wet pussy. Slowly, she slid herself down my shaft and let out a soft moan. She then began rocking up and down on my cock as I laid back and enjoyed. She moaned louder and louder as she picked up speed and rode my cock.

It felt so good to have my throbbing cock being squeezed by the wet walls of her juicy pussy. She bucked back and fourth on my cock as I just enjoyed. I waited until she had her first orgasm, and then I took over. I pulled her down close to me to kiss her, and the as I wrapped my arms around her, I flipped her and myself over and I was now on top of her, with my cock still buried inside her.

I placed her hands above her head and as she wrapped her legs around my waist, I began to thrust in and out of her. She moaned very loudly for me to fuck her, as I thrusted and at the same time she tried to break free. I just held her hands over her head as I began to pound her pussy as hard as I could. I felt my balls starting to tighten, and I quickly shot wave after wave of my hot steamy cum deep inside her pussy.

We laid there, trying to catch our breaths, when she realized that we had to get going before the other class ended. I was disappointed that we had to end our night, but as we were getting dressed, she told me that she had a few more projects for me to take care of at her home, and with that she kissed me and told me to follow her home...

Room Service Writ Large

Room Service Writ Large
By: Pussycat2kca (julia_k20012001@yahoo.com)

Julia had never seen a hotel suite quite like it. The President's Suite -- hers for the week due to an over-booking -- was beautiful: two levels; spacious; luxurious; with modernist d¨¦cor, a silk-sheeted king-size bed, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline, and several adjoining rooms.

When her firm booked her into a five star hotel for an out-of-town convention, she knew her room would be lovely, but this was far beyond her expectations.

Having kicked off her stylish but slightly uncomfortable open-toed heels, she nursed a glass of chilled white wine from the en suite bar and admired the dazzling view of the night-lit city.

In her late thirties, Julia was a handsome woman by any standard: straight, black, shoulder-length hair; sparkling green eyes; sensual lips; and a fecund, curvaceous figure that bordered on Rubenesque. She was admired by her friends - both female and male -- for her chic sense of style and understated charm. Her looks and personality had always been a draw to men, yet her relationships with the opposite sex -- unlike her professional life -- had sometimes been a source of frustration. Though she had a romantic soul and was very highly-sexed, she had become somewhat shy of commitment since her divorce the previous year. In that time, she had seldom dated; preferring to enjoy a period of solitude. That said, her physical desires were strong, and abstinence was not a happy state for her. She craved the passion, excitement, and physical fulfillment of the bedroom. She yearned to be made love to by a man, yet she was not ready for emotional attachment of a long-term relationship just yet.

She sipped her wine and scanned the business card she held between her manicured fingers. It had been given to her by a girlfriend, a woman of means, who had quietly yet forcefully encouraged her to call the number on the card some night when she found herself alone for the evening. That particular evening was just such a night. The card was simply but tastefully designed and presented only the following information: "Eve's - Uncompromising pleasures for the discerning woman". There was also a local telephone number to call.

Julia poured herself another glass of wine and continued to flip the card between her fingers, staring at the number. Twice she picked up the suite's telephone receiver, her hand trembling ever so slightly, before putting it down again. The wine eventually helped steel her nerves - she took a deep breath and dialled the number.

A very professional-sounding woman answered. Julia tried her best to mask the nervousness she felt, but her stammers betrayed her. She soon opted to be forthright, confessing to the woman that she had "never done this sort of thing before". The woman was instantly reassuring; the tone of her voice warm and supportive.

"What kind of gentleman were you looking for," she asked.

"Oh, you know," answered Julia, her voice still quavering, "your average gorgeous, charming, sexy and urbane ladies' man -- nothing special".

The woman laughed softly on the other end of the line.

"I think I have just the man for you," she said. "Evan. Picture Daniel Craig's James Bond: piercing blue eyes, sexy jaw line, short-cropped blond hair, and a body to take a girl's breath away; all that plus charm and brains to spare".

"That sounds lovely," replied Julia.

Julia felt her heart beating in her chest and her hand shaking as she summoned the courage to make an additional query.

"Can you tell me ... I mean ... Um ...," stammered Julia.

"Yes? Please don't be embarrassed or afraid to ask anything at all," the woman responded gently. Julia felt her face go flush.

"Is he ... 'big'" she asked timidly.

"Oh, you shouldn't be embarrassed to inquire about that," she said. "You don't have to hide the fact that size is important to you. And yes, to answer your question, Evan is actually extremely well endowed. Some women find him quite intimidating, actually, so I'm glad you asked, though we've never had any complaints. I usually warn clients that he's eight inches soft; eleven inches long and seven and a quarter inches around when erect," she added matter-of-factly.

Julia's eyes widened as she silently mouthed an 'Oh my god'. "Is he married?" she blurted jokingly without thinking.

"I beg your pardon?" asked the woman.

Julia suddenly felt embarrassed. "Just kidding ... Sorry. That's, um, well, HUGE!".

Though she judged Evan's vital statistic to be prohibitive in any practical sense, she had to admit that his alleged size appealed to her at the level of fantasy. She had decided in advance to go no further than a massage, but felt that a little visual turn on might not be so bad, especially when the man in question possessed something that spectacular.

"Would Evan be free this evening, perhaps nine o'clock?" she inquired.

"Yes, he would," answered the woman. "Perhaps I should explain the fee structure," she added. "A basic out-call massage is two hundred and fifty dollars. If you like, Evan can perform the massage while in the nude for an additional two hundred and fifty dollars. 'Full service', which you are not required to commit to now, is an additional one thousand dollars".

"I see," replied Julia, her voice still betraying her bashfulness. "I think I'd like to book the five hundred dollar massage".

"Wonderful. You'll love it, and he'll pamper you, I promise". The women took down the details and out-call information and hung up.

Julia checked her purse for the stack of crisp one hundred dollar bills - her fingers still trembling -- and checked the time: just past seven o'clock.

She sipped her wine and decided to ready herself for her appointment. Jazz played softly over the suite's sound system as she stood before the floor-length mirror in the marble-appointed bathroom. She stripped off her cocktail dress and silk stockings and appraised herself in her lacy bra and panties. Though she was fleshier than she had been ten years ago, she remained happy with most of what she saw. Her conspicuously large breasts were still fairly firm with little sag; her waist slim; her legs still shapely. She adjusted her 34DDD bra and brief panties and slipped on one of the large, terry-cloth robes provided by the hotel. Last, she put her long black hair up and touched up her makeup.

As nine o'clock approached, her nervousness intensified. Though it was too late to back out now, she wondered if she was still up for her private little adventure. She calmed her nerves by rationalizing to herself that it was simply a massage, nothing more. She was pouring herself another glass of wine when she heard a knock at the door. She felt her heart beating in her chest as she opened the door. Standing in the doorway, a large leather bag strung over his shoulder and a large, portable massage table case at his side, was an extremely good-looking man in his late twenties. He was just as the woman from the agency had described: slim and tightly muscled in his form-fitting back t-shirt and pants; perhaps 6' 1". He also had a gentle but dazzling smile.

"Julia?" he asked in a voice deep enough to induce a little shiver in his client.

"You must be Evan," she replied with a shy smile. "Please some in".

"This is beautiful," observed Evan as set down his equipment and marvelled at the spacious suite. He sensed Julia's nervousness and put his charm to work immediately; chatting amiably with her and trying his best to put her at ease. He had experience dealing with women who had never hired the services of someone like him before, though it was rare that they were attractive as the woman who stood before him in her terry-cloth robe. He was knew how to put women like Julia at ease, and she began to relax a little. She found him genuinely charming and polite; his looks more than satisfactory. She offered him a glass of wine, and the two of them continued to small talk while he set up the surprisingly sturdy-looking leather massage table and laid out towels, scented candles, and massage oils.

"This is for you," offered Julia as she placed five one hundred dollar bills on the table next to the large floral bouquet. Evan smiled at her and nodded. The flasks of massage oil were soon warmed to the appropriate temperature in the portable heating units. Evan adjusted the dimmer switch. The soft lighting, ambient music, and scented candles combined to create a warm, romantic, and relaxing atmosphere.

"Is this your first time?" he asked in a gentle tone of voice.

"Is it that obvious?" replied Julia, blushing once again.

"Not at all," said Evan. "But just in case it was, I wanted you to know that I'm here for YOU. My job is to get you to relax and enjoy this as much as possible, okay? This is about your pleasure. I'm going to take very good care of you, Julia. I'm just going to slip into the bathroom for a moment - why don't you remove your robe and get comfortable face down on the massage table ..."

Evan closed the bathroom door behind him and Julia quickly removed her robe and lay down on the table, still in her bra and panties. With her head turned to the side, she watched as Evan emerged from the bathroom. He had obviously stripped down as was wearing only a small white towel around his waist. The towel was slung low, exposing his taut lower abdomen. But despite that, only covered to about mid thigh. She felt her chest beat once again as she stole quick glances at his impressive frame. His body was deliciously tanned and toned; with strong, broad shoulders; a sexy chest with a smattering of chest hair; narrow waist; and a flat, washboard tummy. She became dry-mouthed at the thought of the alleged (and sizeable) charms concealed by the towel.

Evan approached and leaned in close enough for the scent of his cologne to fill her nostrils. "Julia, can I get you to remove your bra and panties?"

"Oh, of course," she answered dutifully; trying her best to seem non-plussed about taking off her clothes in front of a man she'd only just met. Evan tried not to smile. His clients were often not especially attractive, but Julia was different. Her body was delicate yet voluptuous: comely legs; curvy derriere; very large, buoyant breasts. Although he busied himself with his oils and towels while she finished disrobing, hers was a body he looked forward to pleasing.

Julia sat up - her heavy breasts undulating in her lacy bra -- and reached back, fumbling with the clasp. Released from their confines, her firm but formidable breasts jutted out atop her rib cage; disproportionately large for her smallish frame; the saucer-size, rose-coloured areolas already slightly aroused and puffy. Evan thought her breasts exquisite. Next, she quickly slid off the table, slipped her fingers inside the lacy string waistband of her panties and stripped them off; exposing her shaped and neatly-trimmed maidenhead. She climbed back on the table and assumed her previous position; her breasts pressed against the warm, espresso blown leather.

Evan stood at her side and poured warm oil into his strong hands. "You have a very beautiful body, Julia". His compliment prompted a modest smile. "So do you," she countered.

Evan began working her neck and upper back; eliciting sighs from Julia as her tension and nervousness slowly began to evaporate. He lovingly massaged her shoulders, arms, hands and fingers. Occasionally, she would open her eyes and observe how his taut stomach muscles tightened while he worked over her; how his thighs would flex. Evan poured oil along her legs; working it in until the smooth, soft skin glistened. He paid special attention to her feet and toes. His admiring eyes and strong hands roamed the surface of her body.

He remembered that she had only requested a massage -- albeit with him in the nude - and found that fact genuinely disappointing. The work's monetary compensation was beyond what he had hoped, and the sex - more often than not with older, married women - was not joyless, but instances of genuine sexual interest on his part came few and far between. Again, Julia was an exception and he hoped she would eventually opt for more. He sensed her inhibitions were abating, but he couldn't be sure that that would be enough. It was time for him to remove his towel; a moment he enjoyed, except in those instances where the woman became so frightened or intimidated that she declined to go further; or worse, when it simply wouldn't fit. Still, he never tired of the reactions; the look on women's' faces when they first caught sight of the fleshy monster between his legs; wrist-thick and trunk-like in its flaccid form. His size was such that even the most eager of women were humbled at the sight of it; Julia would be no different.

Evan poured a liberal amount of oil across the pleasantly-shaped arcs of her behind -- oil collecting in the beautiful crevice between - and began a slow caress. Julia responded with a soft exhalation of breath followed by a gentle moan.

"I was wondering ..." she began.

"Yes?" said Evan.

"Would you mind, um ..."

"Removing my towel?" he interjected, anticipating the question. "I would be happy to". Evan stepped over to his bag, gave his towel a gentle tug and tossed it aside.

Julia's temples throbbed as she tilted her head. From her sideways vantage point, she caught sight of his now unveiled manhood. A slight grin formed on Evan's lips as he heard her stifle a gasp. Indeed, she had never seen anything like it. Though she had been forewarned, the size of it still took her breath away. Impressively thick and impossibly long even in its dormant state; it swung heavily between his strong thighs like some baby elephant's trunk; enormous, vascular, and capped with a huge, beautifully-shaped head.

"You have the biggest penis I've ever seen," she gushed, red-faced.

Julia turned out to fit a particular sub-category of the typical client: outwardly bashful yet enormously curious; the type who felt compelled to query him, almost clinically, about his size and his sex life outside of work, for instance: could women, in general, accommodate it (his response: most to a degree, though none had managed all of it); did women say that it hurt (not if he were careful, and if so, only in the initial stages); could he achieve a full erection (11" by 7+", rock hard); did women often offer oral stimulation (yes, though few could manage more than a few inches without gagging); did his size garner jealous reactions from other males (he generally avoided locker rooms and communal showers, though husbands and boyfriends didn't seem to appreciate his presence at nude beaches); had a woman ever approached him for sex based purely on the size of his penis (in a short stint as an exotic dancer, he had once collected seven phone numbers after a single performance).

"Why don't you turn over on your back, Julia?" suggested Evan. She rolled over, stealing another brief glimpse at his now swelling manhood, and lay on her back. Her large breasts bobbed to her sides and she noticed that a dampness had formed between her legs.

He resumed by pouring oil along her thighs, across her tummy, and between her breasts. The warm oil pooled in her navel and trickled down between her slightly parted thighs. She closed her eyes as Evan continued to work his magic; shivers of excitement and arousal making her tingle as he massaged her supple flesh. He began at her knees and worked his way up, slowly; his fingers working her inner thighs, just below her feminine cleft. He moved to her tummy; pressing his hand firmly but gently just above her pubic bone; his hand brushing her dark thatch of trimmed pubic hair. Finally, his trained hands moved between, and then circled around, her breasts. Julia let out a soft moan. Evan's awe-inspiring organ continued to dominate in her mind's eye; so big and powerful-looking. Her anticipation built until he squirted oil directly onto her breasts and grasped them in his hands; his oiled thumbs gently rubbing her swollen nipples. She sighed and looked up; fixing her eyes on his. His massive stalk had expanded and now tapered downward at a slight angle; as thick as her forearm and swaying slowly with the weight of it.

His eyes still fixed on her, Evan slipped his fingers between he legs. Julia's thighs parted without resistance. He gently explored the folds of her labial lips; coating his long finger in her abundant wetness, and stroking her clit with the perfect amount of pressure. Her eyes closed and a deep moan escaped from her lips. He continued to pleasure her; whispering to her; deftly drawing her towards the ultimate release. She felt a tingling in her lower belly that quickly began to build in intensity. She parted her thighs still further and emitted another deep moan. She began rocking her pelvis in synch with the motion of his fingers. The tingling in her belly intensified and moved deep down into her pussy. Another few moments passed before she suddenly arched her back and let out a deep guttural moan; her body tensing as an incredible orgasm slammed through her. She collapsed with a heavy sigh as her breathing returned to normal.

As Julia recovered from her delicious orgasm, Evan washed his hands in the bathroom. He soon returned; his hardening monster swaying and bobbing like some fleshy cudgel as he moved towards her.

"Why don't you sit up?" he asked. She complied and he moved in close between her legs as they faced each other. He gently brushed the loose strands of hair from her eyes and tucked them behind her ear. "Did that feel good, Julia?" She nodded in the affirmative. He took her hand and placed it on his huge erection. She looked down; her smallish hand dwarfed by it; her fingers unable to grasp all the way around it.

"Oh my god," she whispered.

"Big, isn't it?" he said, grinning. "It's okay to use both hands". Again she complied; drawing back and forth on the taut foreskin with both hands. She thought to herself that it felt more like a velvety baton than a penis. It both scared her and fired her lust.

"You're a very sexy lady, you know that? And don't be afraid of it, okay?" said Evan in a tender, reassuring tone. "It's okay to want it, Julia -- a nice, big cock. It's okay to be curious". He ran his fingers through her hair at the back of her neck. "I think you want it, Julia. I think you want to know what it feels like to have something this big inside you."

"The money is in my purse," whispered Julia.

Evan reached in his bag for a 'XXL' brand condom and began unravelling it over his gigantic erection. Julia stared at it, mesmerized.

"Is that a horse condom?" she asked only half-jokingly. Evan smiled and sat down beside her on the massage table.

She tore her eyes from his manhood and turned to him.

"Are you usually a good boy with those?" she asked referring to the condom.

"I use them religiously," he replied. "And I'm tested clean every month as a precaution".

"Then can it be our little secret that you didn't wear one with me?" she asked meekly. "I want to taste you ..."

His policy was to always wear a condom with his clients, but yet again, Julia presented an ethical dilemma - he wanted her, desperately; wanted to touch her in places she'd never been touched before; wanted to watch her navigate that physical cocktail of pleasure and pain that women faced when they offered him their invariably tight nether regions.

"Why don't you see if my big dick will fit in that pretty little mouth of yours?" he asked as he removed his oversized condom.

Julia climbed off the table and positioned herself between his thighs; cupping his sac in one hand and stroking his huge totem with the other. She kissed along the surface of it and playfully nibbled it with her teeth; leaving a long smear of her lipstick along the length of it. She felt its weight in her hand; lifting it and tracing her tongue along the underside. The smell of his sex filled her nostrils. Squeezing the thick shaft, a large pearly drop of pre cum oozed from the tip. Julia pursed her lips and suckled the salty discharge. She'd always been adept at pleasuring a man orally, but somehow, in this instance that phrase - "pleasuring a man orally" - fell short as an apt descriptor in her mind. Happily for her, this seemed so much more carnal; so much dirtier than that. This was 'sucking cock'; a massive one at that.

Evan watched as Julia opened wide and enveloped the huge head in her mouth. Up to the challenge or not, he invariably loved watching eager women try their best. His eyes closed as she began swirling her tongue about the head. With her hands working the rest of his colossal eleven inch shaft, she leaned in and managed to force a bit more into her mouth. He was so thick her tongue was largely trapped against the bottom of her mouth; her nostrils flared as she was forced to breathe through her nose. She leaned forward again and felt the head press against the back of her throat. She tried to relax; fighting off the reflex to gag. The combined actions of pumping and sucking were drawing Evan quickly towards orgasm. He groaned from the pleasure of it and leaned back on his hands. Julia began to fellate him with greater and greater vigour; the sound of her saliva churning in her mouth almost obscene. Unable to control it, spit seeped from her lips and trickled down his shaft and over her fingers.

"Oh, yeah, that's right - suck that big dick," groaned Evan. He continued to observe his client; her mouth stuffed with his oversized manhood. As Julia's efforts continued unabated, Evan felt his sac tighten.

I'm going to cum, Julia," he warned. Unable to speak, she grunted her acquiescence. Another moment or two passed before a volcanic burst of warm cum exploded down her throat. She swallowed hard, and often, for several seconds in a desperate effort not to gag. Despite her best efforts, gobs of white discharge escaped and mixed with the spit covering her fingers. The top end of his sex was smeared with a pasty blend of spit, semen, and lipstick.

Evan lifted her and wiped the traces of his seed from her lips. He kissed her, sensually; suckling her tongue and tasting his own cum.

The two of them retired to the suite's sunken hot tub to recuperate. Evan suckled her huge, buoyant breasts between sips of champagne; marvelling at their weight and the size of her areolas. The warm, swirling, bubbly water cleansed their bodies of oils, semen, and sweat, reinvigorating them.

Refreshed, they dried each other off - Julia giggled as she playfully and lovingly towelled dry his impressive phallus - changed into matching robes, and entwined together on the expansive, king-size bed upstairs. They kissed passionately; rekindling their desire and resuming their love-making in earnest. As they did, Evan's formidable, eleven-inch pussy-tamer was restored to its full glory and pressed hotly against Julia's inner thigh. She swooned from the feel of it: dangerous; so close to its natural point of entry.

She kissed him with her soft, pillowy lips and gently fingered the hair at his temples. "I want to fuck you so bad," she whispered. "But I'm also a little scared. It's so big. I'm afraid you'll hurt me. Promise me you'll take it slow?"

He looked into her eyes. "I promise. Promise ME you'll try your best to relax? The pleasure will be so much more intense if you do. And give it time - though women often find it uncomfortable at first, believe it or not I get a lot of repeat customers," he grinned.

As she undid her robe and lay back on the bed, Evan knelt between her parted thighs and let his own drop from his shoulders. She looked down as his forearm-thick organ swung heavily between his thighs, like a huge fleshy cudgel; the tip of its massive head coming to rest atop her tightly-cropped strip of pubic hair. Her breathing quickly intensified as the disparity in size -- between his massive battering ram and her smallish point of entry - became all too clear.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "I'm not sure I know what I've got myself into!"

To Julia's relief, Evan removed a small bottle of lubricant from the pocket of his robe and applied a liberal amount to the shaft and head of his penis. She watched him make his weapon slick with it. She found the site intensely erotic, if not imposing: his strong arms and chest; narrow waist and flat tummy; sculpted thighs; and his focused attention on his cock. He carefully worked the slippery, clear gel onto the entire length of it; from the small thatch of pubic hair at its base to the beautiful head, which appeared to be as large as her fist.

"You like that?" he asked as she watched him. She nodded then gasped as he gently rubbed the tip along the pouty pink lips of her sheath. "Now just relax," he said soothingly. "Nice deep breath, then let it out ..." On her quavering exhale -- one hand holding the rigid shaft of his erection; the fingers of the other separating her labial lips -- he leveraged his hips and pressed the tip against her moist entry point; forcing her pussy to stretch and dilate far beyond what it was accustomed to. Julia winced, gritted her teeth, and clutched the bed sheets tightly with her fingers. For several moments, he could not gain a foothold. Like a jungle snake's first, seemingly futile attempts to swallow a prey far too big to pass through its own jaws, Julia's labia seemed unequal to the task of accommodating Evan's enormous cock. Even Evan, experienced as he was at difficult penetrations, grew concerned that he might not fit inside her. He persevered, though, and aided by her natural wetness and his synthetic lubrication, her tightly stretched lips finally enveloped the massive crown.

"Oh my god!" she hissed through gritted teeth as Evan slowly worked his hips, edging inside several more inches. He stopped momentarily - though he did not retreat; unwilling as he was to give up ground he had already gained - and let Julia catch her breath. She reached down between her parted legs and fingered her clit in an effort to forestall the pain and discomfort that were beginning to cloud the pleasure. Her huge breasts swayed to and fro in unison with every quick inhale and exhale of breath; her nipples were swollen and enlarged.

Her 'hired gun' redoubled his efforts, and, after several moments, had managed some seven or eight inches. Julia swooned and thought she might faint. She had never felt anything like it; her vaginal canal convulsed from being so stretched. Her face contorted and slackened with every additional inch: winces, then gaping-mouth sighs, then back again.

"Oh, my god, it's SO BIG!" she yelped breathlessly. "Please, I think ... I think, it's too ..."

"Just relax," he whispered.

Since no woman had ever sheathed all eleven inches of his thick sword, he knew how to assess when a woman was about to top out; usually managing to avoid a painful and unnecessary battering of her cervix. He was expert at reading a woman's face for visual clues, and at a little better than nine inches, he reckoned that Julia was maxed out. He stopped and let her adjust as best as she could to the oversized intruder lodged between her legs.

After a few moments, Evan began to slowly pull out and push in. Like a train starting from a stand still, he began working up a rhythm; increasing the span and pace of his thrusts with every forward and backward combination. Julia now tightly gripped his muscular biceps; her fingernails almost cutting him as his penis overwhelmed her delicate pussy.

"It's so big," she whimpered. Indeed, it felt to Julia like she was being penetrated by a baseball bat. Still, the initial and overwhelming discomfort was beginning to subside as her pussy slowly adjusted. His thickness was such that her labial lips were drawn inward with every in stroke. This had a delicious side effect as the top of his shaft brushed her clit each time he forced his way back in; intensifying the pleasure that was now outpacing the pain. Adding to the sensory eroticism of it all was the sound: her tight vacuum seal and incredible wetness combined with his slippery gel to create a slick gooey sound that punctuated every thrust.

She began to coo and purr as he made love to her, and to feel an entirely new sensation in her lower reaches. As these new and intense shivers of pleasure began to flutter and build deep in her vagina, she realized that she was approaching her first vaginal orgasm. She let out a deep, guttural moan as it swept through her in waves.

"Oh, Evan," she gasped in a languorous, almost drugged state. "I never knew it could feel like this".

Evan's services were expensive, but women almost never felt short-changed, and then only in instances where his size resulted in a genuine physical impasse. He was a master cocksman; using his incredible size as an instrument of feminine pleasure rather than a boorish power tool. He was capable of causing a woman significant pain, yet he had learned the art of the bedroom well. He loved averting his own orgasm so that he might prolong a woman's ecstasy and allow her to savour the singular pleasure of an extraordinarily well endowed man. He took a special delight in being compared favourably, and in the throes of passion, to boyfriends and/or husbands -- "It's three times the size of my boyfriend's!" and "My husband's is so small compared to yours!" being but a few.

As with his other clients, he treated Julia to a protracted series of mind-blowing orgasms: quickening his steady rhythm to a crescendo, subsiding, and then building again slowly towards yet another pleasurable release. Julia bit her lower lip and emitted a heavy groan each time the tingling deep in her belly peaked and her pussy convulsed. She lost count at eight mammoth orgasms.

Still, Evan understood that there was a time and place for everything; knew that once a woman had better adjusted to his size, that he could push the envelope; indeed, that more often than not she wanted him to. He understood instinctively when a woman wanted to be 'made love to' and when she wanted to be 'fucked'; when she wanted a sensitive lover or a sexual rogue. Something about the look of deference in their eyes; a look that signalled that she wanted, no needed him to fuck her brains out, mercilessly.

"God, I love your huge cock," she sighed; her cheeks flush; beads of perspiration forming on her brow.

"Turn over on your hands and knees," he instructed. She let out a startled squeak as he withdrew his monstrous organ without warning. Her pussy lips, so thoroughly stretched, remained gaping open for a time even after he had pulled out; the tender folds raw and ruddy. She turned over and got on her knees; one hand braced against the dark wooden headboard of the bed. She looked back as Evan stroked his slick cock and re-positioned himself behind her; her poor, beleaguered pussy exposed and vulnerable to his next and final assault. He had deftly read her mind: she wanted it dirty, vulgar, and wanton.

He thought her curvaceous derriere a thing of beauty, and suppressed a playful impulse to bite the soft, ample flesh with his teeth, opting instead to caress it with his hand. He admired the dark, trimmed delta that lay exposed just below and between the pleasing arcs of her behind; the pouty folds of her tight quiver.

Evan pressed her down at the back of her neck to afford him less fettered access. Her head rested on the pillow; her buxom chest prone atop the sheets. Julia turned again to watch as he guided his hulking weapon to its tender target; her bright green eyes peering through sweaty strands of her long black hair. Despite the newly acquired benefit of firsthand experience, she remained cognizant of the fact that he was once again about to penetrate her with something longer and thicker than her forearm. She masked her renewed anxiety with a series of lusty taunts.

"You like my pussy, you big stud?" she said with a nervous grin. "Nice and tight?" "You going to FUCK me with that huge dick, huh?"

A smirk formed at the corner of Evan's sexy mouth.

Hitting his mark, he pushed from the base of his pelvis and once again slowly stretched her orifice to maximum aperture. Julia sucked air in through her teeth and bit down on the silk pillowcase, hard.

"In a few minutes, sweetheart, you're going to be calling me daddy," he grunted.

He eagerly wedged his gigantic cleaver into her from behind with vigour uncharacteristic for paying clients. Yet despite the more forceful entry, the pain was for her slightly less intense the second time around, and passed far quicker. She was still vice tight, and she still worried for her ovaries, but this time the feeling of being so profoundly stretched was dizzying, primal. She felt more profoundly sexual than she had ever felt before, and began to moan like a bitch in heat as he had his way with her. He felt so deep, she though he might soon touch her tonsils.

"Oh god, Evan -- it's SO BIG!!!" she gasped.

He gripped her womanly hips tightly and began grunting his way into her in a steady, rhythm of long, relentless strokes. The flutters and tremors and tingling came flooding back, and she cried out with yet another climax.

"Fuck me!" she hissed, teeth and jaw clenched.

He continued his machine-like assault for what seemed like eternity. The soreness in her delicate little labia became almost too much for her to bear any longer. Evan mercifully warned her than he would soon cum -- not a moment too soon, as she felt exhausted, sore, and ready to collapse.

"I want you to cum all over me," she purred.

He withdrew from her and sat back on his heels, thighs spread, while she turned back over on her back and made a target of herself. She cooed and sighed while he worked his giant tool with his hands; rubbing her clit and pinching her nipples while she watched him, entranced.

"That's it, sweetie," she said. "Oh god, I love watching you pump that big beautiful cock of yours! I still can't believe you fit that thing inside me!"

His teeth clenched and he began to grunt. His sac tightened and the tip of his lengthy manhood erupted, spewing thick streams of hot white cum all over her body. Large gobs splashed across her voluptuous breasts and tummy. Julia sighed; spreading his warm semen over her heaving bosom as she fixed her eyes on his; fingering his cum between her ravaged pussy; suckling the gooey remnants from her manicured fingers.

She smiled at him brightly and they embraced each other on their knees; Evan's spent monster swinging passively between his legs. Julia kissed him sweetly on the lips. Then, taking it in her hand, she bent down and lovingly kissed his still massive stem.

"Thank you for sharing your lovely cock with me, kind sir" she grinned. "That was a fuck I'll not soon forget. Mine is a very happy, albeit sore, pussy -- another satisfied customer".

Julia placed the eleven one hundred dollar bills on the table while Evan showered, then slipped back into the revivify waters of the hot tub. She sipped the remnants of their champagne and watched as he dressed and packed up his things. He knelt down and offered her one last kiss.

"Thank you, Julia. The pleasure was all mine," he winked; committing her beauty and womanly charms to memory.

"No, sweetie," she replied with a saucy grin. "In fact, you may have ruined me for other men. But at a hundred dollars per inch, you were worth every penny".

She blew him a last kiss as he closed the door behind him.

Julia sat back in the bubbly waters and sipped her champagne. Reaching down between her thighs, she touched her tender pussy and winced. "My god," she thought to herself. "How does one share a story like this with one's girlfriends? It will be like my 'Big Fish Tale' ... ".

She held her hands out like bookends in front of her, approximating a foot in length between them.

"No one will believe me!" she giggled.