0 comments/ 7180 views/ 0 favorites Milena By: ULISSE Da tempo erano in corso i lavori per l'impianto degli aeròfoni. Lungo la costa e anche nell'interno. Tutto era condotto con la massima segretezza. Si diceva, tentando di appagare la curiosità di chi notava il movimento di uomini e materiali, che si ampliava la rete radiofonica dell'EIAR, l'ente di stato. Le aree interessate erano ben delimitate, sorvegliate e protette da reparti specializzati. Una volta terminate le installazioni, le rilevazioni sarebbero affluite al "Comando NAP" che disponeva, come dice la sigla, di nuclei antiparacadutisti. I componenti di tali unità ricevevano un particolare addestramento per la ricerca e la cattura di paracadutisti nemici. Anche quando si é certi di un avvenuto "lancio", non sempre é facile identificare un paracadutista nemico che, in genere, conosce abbastanza bene luoghi, dialetto e usanze della zona dove deve agire. Spesso é in borghese, anche se ciò gli fa perdere la qualifica di combattente e gli fa rischiare la pena di morte. Alcuni, una volta raggiunto il suolo, seminano quelle che chiamano "booby traps", ordigni esplosivi camuffati da oggetti innocui, come penne stilografiche, giocattoli e altro, destinati a trarre in inganno chi li rinviene e provocarne il ferimento, spesso la morte.Altro pericolo, la forma di difesa attiva di alcuni, specie se indossano giacche, impermeabili, pastrani. Portano alla cintola una rivoltella che, alzando le mani, lascia partire un colpo contro chi é di fronte. Per l'incarico che dovevo svolgere, ero entrato in contatto con l'ingegnere che dirigeva i lavori, Roberto Ricci. Era difficile poter stabilire la regione d'origine, lui, sorridendo, non aveva risposto alla mia domanda in proposito. Dal suo curriculum riservato, però, avevao appreso che aveva studiato anche in Inghilterra e negli Stati Uniti, e che in Italia era uno dei massimi esperti della materia. Di aspetto sportivo, simpatico, non molto ciarliero. Appena conosciuto non riuscii a capirne l'età, forse gli stessi anni di mio padre, intorno ai cinquanta. Aveva progettato e stava realizzando la rete aerofonica della zona. Era in paese da qualche tempo. Viveva in una villetta, piano terreno e primo piano, alla periferia del paese. Il suo ufficio operativo, però, era nella caserma, sorvegliato a vista giorno e notte da sentinelle armate. Tecnici e operai, pur non indossando divisa, erano militari del Genio, gente di provata fedeltà e riservatezza. L'ingegner Ricci si era fatto raggiungere dalla famiglia, e più volte mi aveva detto di andare ad alloggiare da lui, poiché erano più le stanze, nella villetta, che gli abitanti. Aveva sposato una allieva conosciuta al Politecnico di Torino durante un ciclo di lezioni tenute in quella università. Erano passati diversi anni, da allora. * * * Milena era al terzo anno, aveva superato brillantemente il biennio e affrontava con la solita determinazione il campo dell'elettrotecnica e della radiotecnica. Non perdeva una parola di quello che diceva il docente. Prendeva appunti e si riservava di chiedergli delle spiegazioni, al più presto possibile perché il professore era solo "in prestito", ed entro pochi giorni sarebbe tornato all'Istituto Superiore delle Telecomunicazioni, presso il quale conduceva ricerche e progettazioni. Roberto s'era dichiarato disponibilissimo a fornire tutti i ragguagli possibili, e aveva detto agli studenti che, malgrado non fosse tanto vecchio, poteva benissimo trascurare le attrattive della bella Torino pur di essere loro utile. Milena gli presentò un lungo elenco di domande. Lui lo esaminò attentamente, e guardò lei con un sorriso scanzonato. "La prego, signorina, si segga. I suoi quesiti sono tutti molto interessanti e denotano il suo lodevole desiderio di sapere. Che anno frequenta?" "Il terzo, professore." "Forse per comprendere bene le risposte alle sue domande servirebbe aver superato alcuni esami che dovrà affrontare in futuro. Inoltre, per approfondire il tutto dovremmo trascorrere insieme moltissime ore, più di quelle che mi restano ancora da passare in questa città. Facciamo così, mi sottolinei due quesiti e mi lasci il foglietto. Torni domani alla stessa ora." Milena prese il foglietto, scelse due domande, le circondò con un segno della penna e restituì il tutto al professore. Lui le tese la mano. Lei salutò, uscì. Però, osservò tra sé la ragazza, molto gentile il Ricci. Da vicino appariva anche più giovane di quando era in cattedra. Chissà quanti anni aveva. Beato lui che era stato presso centri universitari specializzati in Inghilterra e in USA. Gli uomini hanno libertà che a una donna raramente sono concesse. Mio padre, poi, mi terrebbe sotto una campana di vetro. Per lui sono sempre una ragazzina, e il fatto che abbia quasi ventidue anni e sia maggiorenne non conta. L'indomani furono puntualissimi entrambi. Roberto l'accolse con cordiale cortesia. "Venga, signorina, le ho portato alcuni miei appunti che spero soddisfino le sue domande. Adesso devo incontrare il Preside della facoltà, ma non sarà una cosa lunga, se vuole può attendermi e, se da parte sua o... del suo ragazzo non vi sono ragioni ostative, potremmo andare a prendere un caffè, così ci toglieremmo da qui, staremmo più tranquilli e potrei spiegarle meglio i punti da approfondire." Mirella sorrise, ma anche arrossì un poco. Non le era mai capitato che un professore l'invitasse a prendere un caffè. "Nessun impedimento di sorta, professore, e il mio ragazzo... lo devo ancora conoscere. Le dispiace se l'attendo al caffè di piazza San Carlo?" "Va benissimo, diciamo tra mezz'ora." * * * Tutto era cominciato così. Roberto, tra una spiegazione e l'altra, le chiese se non la infastidita essere vista al caffè con un vecchio professore. Lei gli rispose che qualche anno in più non autorizzava una affermazione del genere, salvo che lui non lo facesse per farsi dire che era giovane. "Ma sa che lei è un bel tipo?" -disse Roberto- "Sta scoprendo i miei punti deboli. In effetti cerco di nascondere di aver superato, ma da non molto, i quaranta..." "Io navigo verso i ventidue, professore, li compirò posdomani. Se lei è ancora a Torino potrei invitarla a una piccola festa, a casa mia. Pochissime persone." "La ringrazio signorina...?" "Ah, è vero, professore, mi scusi, non mi sono presentata. Sono Milena Peroni." "Figlia del professor Peroni, di Chimica?" "Ebbene si, professore, lui è mio padre. Lo conosce?" "Non personalmente, ma i suoi libri sono noti in tutto il mondo." "Grazie, professore, allora l'aspetto? Così potrò chiederle ancora qualche ulteriore chiarimento. Adesso mi scusi, devo andare altrimenti a casa mi fanno storie. Allora, a posdomani, alle sei del pomeriggio. Ci conto." Si alzò, lo salutò e uscì quasi di corsa, dal caffè. Non gli aveva dato l'indirizzo, ma lui lo avrebbe cercato sull'elenco telefonico. * * * Puntualità cronometrica, quella di Roberto. Quando il taxi lo depose dinanzi alla casa di Milena, con un fascio di fiori per la signora e una grossa scatola di gianduiotti per la festeggiata, scoccavano le diciotto. Edificio imponente, ingresso in marmo di Verona, ascensore al centro della scala. Il portinaio si toccò il cappello. "Il professor Peroni è al secondo piano." Lo precedette aprendogli l'ascensore, entrò dopo di lui, rinchiuse cancello e porta, premette il bottone del secondo piano. Quando l'ascensore si fermò, aprì porta e cancello e si scostò per far uscire Roberto. Busso al campanello d'ottone lucido. Dopo qualche istante venne ad aprirgli una cameriera in cresta e grembiulino. "Prego, si accomodi." "Sono Roberto Ricci." "Si, il professor Ricci. E' atteso" Si aprì la porta di legno scuro che stava sul fondo del breve corridoio e ne uscì un signore elegantemente vestito di scuro che gli andò incontro. "Benvenuto, caro collega, sono Giovanni Peroni, Milena mi ha molto parlato di lei, e complimenti per le sue lezioni, per le sue pubblicazioni. Venga." Si voltò verso la porta dalla quale era uscito, e annunciò. "Clotilde, Milena, c'è il professor Ricci." Apparve una signora, non più giovanissima, ma ancor bella e attraente, che gli tese la mano, e Milena. Roberto la pregò di accettare i fiori. Clotilde li prese, li ammirò. "Grazie, sono bellissimi, ma non doveva disturbarsi." "E' un piacere, signora, e mi auguro che li gradisca." La donna dette i fiori alla cameriera. "Subito in un vaso, Rosetta, e nel salone." Roberto porse la scatola a Milena. "Per lei, signorina, qualche cioccolattino, spero le piacciano. Milena scartò il pacchetto. "Uh! gianduiotti, la mia passione. Ma lei è un indovino, professore!" "Venga, caro collega, -disse Peroni- "c'è qualche amico. Pochissimi, sa. Siamo in famiglia. Milena riceverà domani le sue amiche." "Professor Peroni" -si schernì Roberto- "non mi chiami collega, io potrei, al massimo, essere un suo umile allievo." "Ricci, di lei si parla un po' dovunque, specie all'estero. Sono io ad essere onorato di poterla chiamare collega. Venga." Le solite presentazioni, qualche parola di convenienza. Marco, il fratello, e Margherita, la sorella, erano più grandi di Milena. Lui medico, lei insegnante di lettere al liceo. Tutto sommato una compagnia allegra e discreta. Margherita chiese il silenzio, si abbassò la luce ed entrò Rosa con una grossa torta illuminata da ventidue candeline. La depose sul tavolo che era in un angolo della vasta sala. Milena prese per mano il padre e la madre, si avvicinò alla torta, soffiò forte, spense tutte le candeline in una sola volta. Battimani e auguri da parte di tutti i presenti. Milena baciò un po' tutti. Quando giunse vicino a me si fermò. "Permette, professore?" E lo baciò sulle guance. Margherita aveva messo un disco sul grammofono. Un ballo moderno. Milena andò verso il padre e ballò con lui. Sempre danzando, si avvicinarono a Roberto. "Io sono troppo vecchio, caro Ricci, continui lei." Milena fu tra le braccia di Roberto. * * * Due giorni dopo Roberto ripartì. La ragazza lo accompagnò alla stazione. "Chissà se e quando ci rivedremo, professore." "Credo presto. Conto di tornare qui tra poco più di un mese e di trascorrere le vacanze di Natale a Torino." "Verrà a trovarci?" "Spero di non disturbare." "Anzi!" Milena tornò a casa. Si mise a studiare, ma il libro era aperto sempre alla stessa pagina e i suoi occhi non distinguevano le parole. Si alzò, andò nello studio del padre. "Ciao papà. Il professor Ricci mi ha incaricato di ringraziarti ancora per la serata trascorsa con noi e di salutarti. Mi ha detto che passerà a Torino per Natale." "Quando l'hai incontrato, Milena?" "Sono andata alla stazione a salutarlo." "Ah! Che ne dici di invitarlo a passare le feste con noi, se non ha altri impegni?" "Sai, papà, non credo che abbia altri impegni. Allora, lo invito?" "Devo farlo io, cara. Domani stesso gli scrivo." E così Roberto Ricci salutò il 1929 in casa Peroni e a mezzanotte precisa baciò Milena sotto il ramo di vischio. L'anno successivo, Milena lasciò gli studi, a pochi esami dalla laurea, e sposò Roberto. Mario nacque nel 1931. Furono in Etiopia dal 1936 al 1938. Adesso erano qui. Roberto 54 anni, Milena 35, Mario poco più di 11. Io, Piero, 23. * * * Quando Roberto mi disse di scambiarci il "tu" mi sentii a disagio. Con voce calma, suadente, mi rassicurò. "Vedi, Piero, io credo di avere più o meno l'età di tuo padre, e a lui, certo, non ti rivolgi dandogli del lei. E' bello, per me, avere un giovanissimo amico. Del resto tu hai voluto che Mario ti desse del tu, anche se ha dodici anni meno di te. Allora?" "Grazie, ci proverò." "Ti aspettiamo questa sera a cena." "Grazie, ma non posso. A mensa c'è il Generale Sironi. Non posso mancare." "Allora, dopo cena, a bere qualcosa e far quattro chiacchiere." "D'accordo." * * * Venne ad aprirmi Zorça, una giovane del luogo sulla quale avevo fatto condurre accurati accertamenti per escludere che avesse contatti con elementi poco raccomandabili. Mi indicò la porta a vetri. "I signori sono in soggiorno. Io e Mario giochiamo a dama, nel tinello." Mario, un simpatico ragazzone che dimostrava molto più della sua età, quando non era a scuola, dove era stato ammesso come uditore, passava tutto il suo tempo con Zorça. Entrai nel soggiorno. Roberto sfogliava il giornale, Milena chiuse il libro che stava leggendo e mi tese la mano. "Roberto mi ha detto che vi siete decisi a scambiarvi il tu. Era ora. Vi sentirete ancora più vicini, e Roberto non brontolerà più contro la formalità dei torinesi. Lo sa che lui e mio padre si danno del lei dopo tanti anni che si conoscono?" Roberto piegò il giornale e lo mise sul tavolino basso, accanto a lui. "Caro Piero, il fuoco sta nelle viscere dell'Etna, a Catania, poi lo ritrovi nel Vesuvio, a Napoli e, con tutto il rispetto per te, intorno a Roma ci sono solo vulcani spenti, e a Torino, poi, non parliamone. Pianure nascoste dalla nebbia." Milena lo guardò sorridendo. "Lo sente, Roberto? Mio marito è della terra dl fuoco, come dice lui. Però... dillo Roberto... la tua temperatura corporea è mezzo grado inferiore alla mia. Puoi negarlo?" "Ma cara Milena, io parlo delle relazioni tra amici. Anche perché da noi di quello che passa nella coppia non si parla." Si volse verso la porta alla sua sinistra e chiamò: "Zorça, per favore, qualcosa da bere." Milena si alzò. "Ci vado io, Roberto." Si avviò verso il tinello. Milena non era molto alta, ma aveva un corpo statuario, perfetto, deliziosamente proporzionato. Mi faceva ricordare un giudizio del mio insegnante di storia dell'arte sulla Venere di Prassitele. Cose giuste al posto giusto, nulla che manchi nulla di superfluo. I capelli di Milena, castani, le incorniciavano e mettevano in risalto il volto regolare, simmetricissimo. Si ha equilibrio armonico delle forme, diceva il professore, quando, nell'ammirarle, si ha l'impulso, quasi irrefrenabile, di toccarle, carezzarle, goderne il contatto. L'equilibrio armonico delle forme di Milena era evidente e irresistibile. Indossava sempre modelli semplici che esaltavano la sua bellezza, il suo fascino seducente. I suoi modi, pur eleganti e raffinati, non erano mai affettati o artificiosi, e riuscivano sempre ad attrarre l'interlocutore, a concentrare su lei l'attenzione di tutti. Quando c'era Milena, le altre signore sembravano non esserci. Ma non si dava arie, anzi cercava sempre di mettere gli altri a loro agio, cordiale e socievole. Gli occhi scuri, a tratti lampeggiavano di luce improvvisa, come la lama luminosa d'un faro che fruga nel buio della notte. A volte mi scrutava come a cercare di leggere qualcosa nel mio volto. Avevo ballato con lei. Le punte del suo seno sembravano voler attraversare la stoffa della giubba. Era bella, desiderabile, ma non avevo mai pensato a lei come a una possibile conquista. Forse la sentivo, oltre che moglie di Roberto, un po' troppo avanti negli anni per me. Dora mi prendeva in giro. Diceva che ero un "gerontofilo". Frequentavo la casa di Lenka e Anna, e quella dei Ricci, con Milena che mi poteva quasi essere madre. Ed esagerava per provocarmi. Le spiegai che in effetti erano donne un po' d'età, per me, ma che a ben guardarle si poteva anche comprendere che, tutto sommato, un... pensierino su di loro lo si poteva anche fare. "E secondo te, io starei a guardare?" Diceva Dora pizzicando il mio braccio. "Lo sai, Piero, lo sai bene, che tu sei il mio solo uomo, il primo e voglio che sia l'unico. Ricordo come mi guardasti negli occhi, quella sera." Mentre il mio pensiero s'affollava di considerazioni e ricordi, Roberto si alzò e andò a chiudere tutte le porte. "Ho ricevuto un cifrato. Devo andare in altre zone per alcuni giorni. Non più di una settimana, credo. Ma non deve sapere nessuno dove sono diretto. All'aeroporto militare Is2 mi attende un aereo, e con quello farò il giro che mi è stato ordinato. L'aeroporto è raggiungibile solo con l'automobile, e potrei lasciarla li fino al ritorno, ma non voglio che l'auto manchi da qui così a lungo. Devono vederla, credere che io sia in paese. A Zorça diremo che rimango sui lavori. Ho pensato, Piero, che potresti accompagnarmi tu e poi riportare l'auto dinanzi al villino, dove sta solitamente. Ti dispiace?" "A parte che non mi dispiace affatto, credo che sia un mio preciso dovere aiutarti nel tuo servizio. Quando partiresti?" "Domani pomeriggio. Verso le sedici, Così saresti di ritorno per l'ora di mensa. Ma potrai assentarti?" "Non credo che Marini abbia qualcosa in contrario." Milena guardò Roberto, "Posso venire anch'io?" Roberto m'interrogò con lo sguardo. Io feci un impercettibile cenno affermativo. Si rivolse alla moglie. "Certo, Milena. Domani alle quattro del pomeriggio." * * * Dora era dinanzi al bar. Mi fece cenno di entrare e mi precedette. "Come mai così presto, Dorina. Una bella ragazza come te dovrebbe dormire fino a tardi. Riposando si conserva la bellezza." "Devo parlarti, Piero. Mi sono confessata e il prete ha detto che non dobbiamo farlo più. Io ho promesso... Piero, ma non so se riuscirò a mantenere la promessa..." Mi guardava con gli occhi pieni di pianto. "Io ti voglio bene, Piero, non voglio perderti. Aiutami, dimmi cosa devo fare." "E tu, tesoro, cosa vuoi fare?" "Non lo so, Piero, non lo so..." "Ma mi vuoi bene?" "Si, ti voglio bene, ma soprattutto ti amo. Non immaginavo che fosse così bello stare con te. Perché io voglio stare con te, solo con te. Da quella sera non penso che al momento che mi terrai tra le tue braccia, che mi cullerai, che mi bacerai, che mi farai sentire donna..." "Pensiamoci, Dorina, ma quando due si amano, si desiderano, vogliono sentirsi l'uno dell'altro." "Vieni, questa sera, ho bisogno di parlare con te." "Questa sera sono di servizio, non posso." "Vieni, Piero, non lasciarmi sola. Non badare a quello che ho detto. Non devi pensarci, faremo l'amore, come vuoi tu... come desidero io. Io sono felice quando sono con te, quando mi carezzi, mi dici che sono la tua bambina. Io voglio essere la tua bambina, la tua donna, la tua amante. Tutto." Le presi una mano. Era fredda, tremante. Le baciai le punte delle dita. "Sono veramente occupato, Dora, non posso venire da te. Ci vedremo domani, e sarò felice anche se vorrai solo stare al mio fianco, la mano nella mano. Ti amo, tanto." Le sfiorai le labbra, con un bacio lieve. Mi avviai al Comando. Una giornata laboriosa. Notizie da molti settori, a volte contrastanti. C'era molto nervosismo in giro: formazioni irregolari apparivano e scomparivano, si riunivano, si scioglievano, si spostavano, mutavano abbigliamento. Forse si stava preparando qualcosa di grosso. Il pranzo fu consumato fuori orario, in fretta. Le quattro del pomeriggio si avvicinavano rapidamente. Non riuscivo a sbrigarmi. Quando mancavano solo pochi minuti all'ora fissata con Ricci, entrò il Maggiore Marini. "Vada pure, Orsini, qui ci penso io. Ci vediamo domani, arrivederci." Lo guardai stupito. Non gli avevo detto niente, né avevo chiesto il permesso di allontanarmi. Mi fissò senza parlare, girò sui tacchi e rientrò nel suo ufficio. Scesi al magazzino e prelevai una tuta. Pregai di farne un pacchetto. Il maresciallo la mise in una specie di tascapane. "Credo sia meglio così, signor Tenente, sembra che portiate documenti militari." Ringraziai e mi avviai verso la casa dei Ricci. L'auto, una Bianchi ultimo modello, era pronta. Milena e Roberto erano nel soggiorno. Milena E dimineata, sunt la birou, cand, disperata, intra o colega pe usa: - Fratilor! Lui Bogdan i s-a facut rau!... Normal ca ne repezim in biroul in care Bogdan, intins pe jos, cu jerseul unei colege sub cap, se cam zvarcoleste. Acuza dureri abdominale puternice. Seful cel mare decreteaza ca o sa dea telefon la salvare - suntem pe vremea lui ceasca, asa ca salvarea, daca va veni, probabil ca o s-o faca dupa cel putin o ora... Imediat ma hotarasc: - Nu, il luam cu masina mea si-l ducem la spital. Nu stau sa astept acordul sefului, ci, pur si simplu, il rog pe un coleg mai bine facut, ca si constitutie, sa ma ajute sa-l ridic pe Bogdan si sa-l duc la masina. Una dintre colege, se hotaraste subit: - Vin si eu cu voi! Seful, ca sa se bage-n seama, imi spune: - Vezi, stiu ca e urgenta, dar... ai grija cum conduci!... Colegii stiu ca "le am" pe-astea cu volanul si cu viteza... In fine, avariile pornite, luminile aprinse, claxoane la greu, cand e cazul, depasiri "la mustata", timp in care colega, care este pe bancheta din spate cu Bogdan, spune ca l-a palpat pe burta si ca e tare ca un bolovan, asa cum i s-a intamplat si fratelui ei, cu ceva timp in urma si... a fost operat de peritonita. Chestia ma face sa dau in acceleratie, alergand cu vreo suta patruzeci de kilometri prin oras... Noroc ca nu am de traversat orasul - ajungem. Il luam pe Bogdan si-l ducem la camera de garda (echivalentul UPU din zilele noastre). Apar niste cadre medicale care-l preiau pe Bogdan, dupa ce ne indruma sa-l intindem pe un pat. Gata, sunt, relativ linistit si satisfacut ca am reusit sa-l aduc pe Bogdan, din padure si pana la spital, in numai un sfert de ora... Brusc, atentia imi este captata de blonda care, cu stetoscopul, il consulta pe Bogdan, pipaindu-l pe abdomen, chestii... Tampit cum sunt, uitandu-ma la ea, incep sa ma gandesc ca ar fi bine sa ma fac si eu ca mi-e rau, sa ma pipaie si pe mine... Tipa decreteaza: - Sunati la chirurgie. Nu trec cinci minute, ca apare un nene, la vreo cincizeci de ani, care repeta si el mare parte din operatiunile savarsite de frumusetea blonda. Apoi, cu o voce baritonala, dar blanda: - Curaj, tinere, hai ca intri la operatie, de urgenta... Colega mea incepe sa planga, omul se uita la noi: - Sunteti rude? Raspund eu: - Nu, domnule doctor, doar colegi de servici - noi l-am adus... - ... Anuntati-i familia ca are peritonita - adica i s-a spart apendicele - si-l operam acum. - Am inteles, o s-o facem. In fine, vin niste gealati cu o targa cu rotile, il transbordeaza pe Bogdan si... pe-aci ti-e drumul. Colegul meu pleaca sa caute un telefon public, ca sa sune la birou si sa anunte ce si cum, timp in care eu ma apropii de frumusetea blonda. Observ ca are ochii albastri, o fata frumoasa, o gura senzuala, ca-n rest, nu ma prea pot exprima, intrucat este "protejata" de halatul alb... Totusi, intuitia mea de motan imi spune ca, la modul general, nu poate sa arate rau... Ca varsta, cred ca este de-o seama cu mine - douaj'cinci, sau pe-acolo... Singurul lucru care nu-mi place este ca are cearcanele cam pronuntate. Probabil ca a fost de garda si nu a dormit deloc noaptea... Ma apropii de ea, ma prezint, apoi, politicos, o rog sa-mi spuna unde este sala de operatie unde urmeaza sa aiba loc interventia. Imi spune la ce etaj, insa nu uita sa mentioneze ca... n-avem voie acolo... Normal, fata nu ma cunoaste, asa ca habar n-are ea ce abilitati am eu sa merg prin "locuri interzise"... Deja imi fac, mental, inventarul, cum stau cu maruntii, ca sa pot castiga bunavointa vreunei asistente, sau pe cine oi intalni in cale... Ma uit in ochii domnisoarei doctor, Milena, ca asa o cheama - numele de familie n-are importanta aici - si, cu profunzime, ii spun: - Domnisoara, pun pariu ca n-ati inchis un ochi toata noaptea - ati fost de garda!... Ma priveste, surprinsa - de fapt, sunt convins, de-abia acum se uita, la modul adevarat la mine ca la un om... Ii zambesc. Are oaresce ezitari - intr-un tarziu, se hotaraste sa-mi raspunda: - ... Da, dar de unde stiti? Aveti doctori in familie? Nu e cazul s-o mint: - Nu, insa am mai multi prieteni, asa ca stiu bine ce... "fericire" traiti... - Cunoasteti pe cineva de aici? E momentul sa apas pe acceleratie: - Pana adineaori, nu cunosteam pe nimeni... - ...?... - ... Pai... acum va cunosc pe dumneavoastra!... Din lateral se aud niste chicote infundate - afurisitele alea de surori medicale au tras, ale dracului, cu urechea la ce vorbim noi. Dau sa ma enervez, insa, tot de acolo se aude: - Vai, ce tip bine! Are noroc domnisoara doctor!... Milena se face rosie ca focul, trece pe langa mine si iese din camera de garda. Eu, bagabont, le zambesc asistentelor, le fac cu ochiul si ma grabesc s-o urmez pe domnisoara doctor. O ajung din urma, ma asigur, vizibil, ca sa-si dea seama si ea ce fac, ca nu este nimeni prin preajma, apoi ma adresez Milenei, lasand dracului apelativul cu domnisoara doctor: - Milena, te rog, vreau sa stam un pic de vorba... - ...?... - ... Trebuie sa ma lamuresc si eu despre niste aspecte... - ... Spuneti... - ... In primul rand, lasa-ma cu persoana a doua plural, ca sigur suntem de varste apropiate! Reusesc sa-i smulg un zambet... - In al doilea rand, spune-mi, te rog, daca putem, pe aici, sa mergem sa bem o cafea, ca sigur iti trebuie, ocazie cu care imi dai si mie niste lamuriri, sfaturi, chestii. Este clar descumpanita - mi-e limpede ca in toata cariera ei, scurta, e adevarat, nu i s-a intamplat sa fie abordata in stilul asta - de regula, toata lumea se uita la doctori ca la niste zei si-i trateaza ca atare, de parca n-ar fi si ei oameni... Ma duce prin niste coridoare pana la un lift, urcam, apoi ma conduce intr-o sala de mese, nu inainte de a o ruga pe o infirmiera sa ne pregateasca doua cafele. Suntem singuri - ne asezam la o masa, in asteptarea cafelelor. Incepe sa peroreze, ca sa zic asa, ca ea este doar un medic stagiar, fara o prea vasta experienta, insa ca... o apendicita sau o peritonita, ca in cazul de fata, este si ea in stare s-o vada... Incep sa rad, spunandu-i ca sunt convins ca o da modestia afara din casa, explicandu-i totodata ca stiu bine ca daca ar fi fost asa de neajutorata, nu ajungea intr-un spital din Bucuresti. Este surprinsa, dandu-si clar seama ca, intr-adevar, am prieteni in bransa, ca prea sunt informat... Intr-un tarziu, ma intreaba: - ... Si chiar asa de tare se vede pe mine cat sunt de obosita?... E momentul sa atac: - ... Daca n-ai fi o femeie atat de frumoasa, sunt convins ca ai arata cu mult mai rau! Sa n-o iei ca pe-o magarie, dar daca ar fi dupa mine, te-as lua si te-as baga de urgenta in pat! Face o fata lunga si, cred, vrea sa se infurie. Imi dau seama la ce s-a gandit, asa ca zambind, completez: - Te-as obliga sa dormi cel putin douasprezece ore! Brusc, isi revine... Isi da seama ca mi-am dat seama cum a interpretat spusele mele, asa ca simte nevoia sa completeze: - ... Intr-adevar, e clar, sunt foarte obosita!... Vin cafelele, asa ca fac gestul si scot niste bani din buzunar si-i intind infirmierei. Aia, ca nu si nu, chestii... - Haideti, doamna, vreti sa ma ridic si sa vi-i bag in buzunar cu forta?!?... Tipa nu indrazneste sa intinda mana, insa se apropie mai mult de mine, de asa natura incat ajung sa-i inghesui banii in buzunarul halatului. - Vai, domnu', multumesc!... - Nu, doamna, eu sarutmana ca ne-ati facut cafelele!... Tipa se codeste, apoi i se adreseaza Milenei: - Domnisoara doctorita, daca mai aveti nevoie de ceva... - Nu, multumesc. In sfarsit, ramanem din nou singuri. Sorbim din cafele, apoi abordez si problema dureroasa - cat trebuie sa-i dea Bogdan chirurgului, anestezistului, chestii... Ca... nu trebuie, ca... nu e cazul, texte... Iau o mina serioasa, suparata chiar: - Milena, par eu a om cazut de pe alta planeta acum o ora?!?... Este vadit jenata, apoi imi explica faptul ca ea este medic generalist, pe cand ala este chirurg, ca nu stie, plus ca depinde de gravitatea interventiei, chestii... O opresc - n-o mai las sa bata campii... - OK atunci, facem altfel - dupa operatie, te las sa te interesezi. Apropos, la ce ora termini garda? In fine, mai vorbim, mai povestim, terminam, intre timp si cafelele, coboram. Ii gasesc, la parter, pe colegii mei, carora le spun sa se intoarca la birou, sau sa plece acasa, ca raman eu pana apar parintii lui Bogdan. Dupa ce scap de colegi, intru in camera de garda si, politicos: - Domnisoara doctor, eu raman pe aici, pe la parter - va rog frumos, cand aveti o veste, sa-mi spuneti si mie. Milena se uita spre mine, dar nu apuca sa-mi raspunda, ca vorbesc tot eu: - Multumesc. Ma retrag. In timp ce ies pe usa, iar aud tot felul de chicoteli, insa, de data asta, sigur, e "de bine", asa ca nu-mi fac probleme... In doua vorbe, trei cuvinte, Bogdan a scapat cu bine din toata tarasenia - pe fraier il durea de cateva zile, insa a crezut ca este vreo indigestie, gaze, chestii de-astea... De acum, o sa ma concentrez cu povestirea strict pe Milena. .................................................... O data iesita din garda, ma ofer s-o conduc acasa, mentionand ca sunt cu masina. Apropos - femeia, "in civil" arata foarte bine - balcoane darnice, insa nu laptarii - de altfel, din ce-mi dau eu seama, nici macar nu poarta sutien - poponeata bombata, numai buna de "odihnit" in pat, cu cracii in sus, iar apropos de craci, nici astia nu arata rau deloc... Nu stiu daca asistentele au "incurajat-o", sau, pur si simplu oboseala, au determinat-o pe Milena sa accepte oferta mea, insa nu uita sa mentioneze ca sta destul de departe, intr-un cartier bucurestean... Intamplarea face ca drumul spre casa ei sa treaca si prin fata blocului in care locuiesc eu, asa ca nu pierd ocazia sa-i arat, mentionand scara si etajul... Imi vad de drum - nu ma hazardez s-o invit pe la mine - vreau s-o fut, nu s-o ratez, ca fraierul... Dupa ce se asigura ca am depasit cu mult blocul in care i-am aratat ca locuiesc, tine sa ma flateze: - E frumos aici, ultracentral... Nu ma las nici eu mai prejos: - Lasa, ca si la tine e frumos - distante mari intre blocuri, multa verdeata... Pe masura ce ne apropiem de locuinta ei, o simt cum se tensioneaza. Sunt sigur ca se jeneaza - sa-mi multumeasca si.. pa, sau sa ma invite la o cafea... Tac. Ajunsi la ea, insa, ma apuca limbarita: - Milena, stiu cat de obosita esti, asa ca te rog frumos, scoate telefonul din priza si dormi! Ceea ce as vrea, totusi, este sa ne vedem si noi, zilele astea - ne plimbam, mergem la o terasa, vedem noi... Zambeste, insa o face de complezenta. Tot eu trebuie sa bag textul: - Uite, ca sa nu zici ca una, alta, te rog sa-ti notezi numerele mele de telefon, de acasa si de la birou - nu-ti pretind sa mi-l dai pe al tau... Te gandesti, vezi... Se uita prin parbriz, undeva departe... Brusc se hotaraste: - Nu. Iti dau eu numarul meu si, daca poti, suna-ma maine dupa cinci. - ... Bine si-asa! Notez numarul, apoi, la modul cel mai cavaleresc cu putinta, ii iau mana si i-o sarut. .................................................... A doua zi, pe la saptesprezece si treizeci, o sun, apoi ma duc si o iau de acasa. Imi place ce vad - e imbracata cu o fustita tunsa scurt si o bluzita destul de decoltata - in continuare nu poarta sutien, asa ca ma pot desfata, vizual deocamdata, cu bunatate de sfarcuri. Cert e ca arata mult mai bine fara cearcane - s-a odihnit - a fost fata ascultatoare... Oricum, dupa cum arata si dupa cum apare imbracata la prima intalnire, mi-e clar ca nu e usa de biserica... Ii propun sa mergem in parc, in Cismigiu. Accepta. Ne plimbam, vorbim, imi povesteste diverse glume mai mult sau mai putin tampite pe care le faceau colegii medicinisti in facultate. Pe majoritatea le stiu de la ceilalti prieteni... Normal ca o las sa ma amuze - doar n-o sa ma apuc sa-i stric cheful fetei... Ii spun si eu un banc, de-al lor, care, zice-se chiar s-a petrecut in realitate: - Cica la cursul de anatomie, cand tocmai se preda penisul, o gagica, studenta, nedormita toata noaptea, pentru ca fusese la un chef monstru, cade cu capul in piept. Proful o observa si, cand intreaba care este structura penisului, o striga pe asta pe nume, sa raspunda. Colegii o inghiontesc, sa se trezeasca, gagica sare in picioare si, normal, nestiind ce a intrebat proful, incepe cu: - Aaa... pai... La care, bulangiii de colegi din spate, ii soptesc: Milena nu ma lasa sa continui, ci, razand cu pofta, striga: - Osoasa! Radem cu pofta, apoi continui eu: - Nu, domnisoara, poate asa ti s-a parut tie, azi noapte, pe unde te-ai dus!... Iar tragem o portie de ras... In fine, se face sapte seara, asa ca-i propun sa mergem la carciuma. Se codeste un pic, insa accepta, inclusiv ideea ca mai intai sa mergem pana in apropierea blocului meu, sa parchez masina, ca sa nu stau pe sec, sa ma uit la ea cum bea, mai ales ca locatia unde i-am propus sa mergem este renumita pentru berea de calitate... Zis si facut! ............................................... Iesiti din carciuma, ii propun sa luam un taxi. Imi spune ca nu e cazul. Intreb: - Atunci, cum? - ... Mergem pe jos. - ...?... - Stai suficient de aproape, iar o plimbare dupa ce am mancat nu ne face rau. Recunosc ca la faza asta, m-a avut! ................................................. Intram, aprind cateva lumini discrete, dau drumul, in surdina, la ceva muzici, apoi ma duc si aduc o sticla si doua paharele. Torn, bem, apoi Milena mi se uita-n ochi si-mi spune, zambind: - Stiu ce vrem amandoi, insa trebuie sa ne grabim - eu dimineata la sapte trebuie sa fiu la spital, asa ca pe la cinci o sa te rog sa ma duci acasa, ca sa am timp sa ma pregatesc - vezi, deci, te rog, cat mai bei - nu-mi place sa circul noaptea, sau in zorii zilei, singura, cu taxiul... Las paharul pe masa, neterminat si ma ridic. Milena ma imita, asa ca ne intalnim la mijlocul drumului si ne imbratisam. Ne sarutam cu foc, cu pasiune - stie ce face si o face excelent! Ne oprim, iar eu incep sa-mi deschei camasa. Se indreapta spre fotoliul ei si incepe si ea sa se dezbrace. Ne intalnim din nou, goi pusca. O ajut sa se intinda in pat si-i iau mamelele la mozolit, motiv pentru care incepe sa respire ca o locomotiva cu aburi. Imi pune, expert, mana pe pula, mi-o beleste de doua ori, apoi imi sopteste: - Hai, vino!... Imi place de mor - se vede ca a studiat anatomia, ca-si foloseste muschii abdominali, vaginali, la greu, mulgandu-ma ca pe ugerul vacutei. O simt cum se uda din ce in ce mai tare... Nu ma lasa s-o pompez, ci pur si simplu ma tine inauntru , adanc, umplandu-i toate cotloanele. Ma frec cu pelvisul de lindicul ei, facand miscari de rotatie si de translatie... O ia cu tremurici si o simt cum juiseaza - ma strange in brate. O intreb: - Nu vrei sa folosim un anticonceptional local? Se intrerupe din ce facea si mi se uita in ochi: - ... Tu nu simti... ceva acolo, mai... altfel? Ma concentrez un pic - gata, m-am prins: - Ti-ai pus sterilet!... Zambeste: - Ai ghicit!... Continuam sa facem ce faceam, apoi, in sfarsit, ajung si eu la momentul culminant. Ma simte: - ... Acum poti sa ma lovesti!... Dau din cur de cateva ori si... explozie. Dupa primul jet, ma strange mai tare in brate si isi incolaceste picioarele peste fundul meu, tragandu-ma inauntru. A terminat si ea, inca o data... Mergem la baie - moare de placere cand o frec cu lufa pe spate, pe bucile curului, pe picioare, apoi o intorc cu fata la mine si reiau operatiunea. Ma observa ca evit sa-i frec vulva si sanii, asa ca ma roaga s-o frec si pe acolo, cu acelasi "instrument", insa avand grija sa nu apas. Cand ajung in dreptul vulvei, isi desface picioarele si ma prinde cu mana ei de mana mea, ghidonandu-ma pe unde s-o ating cu lufa. Cu cealalta mana, se tine bine de parul meu - ma strange - si-a dat drumul!... Ma imbratiseaza: - Multumesc, iubitule, mi-era asa de dor!... Sunt un pic sau mai mult debusolat - femeie frumoasa, desteapta, sa nu-si gaseasca ea partener de sex?!?... Continua tot ea: - ... Nu ca n-as avea cu cine, dar garzi, chestii, iar eu, acolo, in spital, n-o fac! - ,,, Din ce stiu eu, multi isi rezolva asa problemele... - Mie-mi spui?!? Insa... mi se pare... degradant. Pe scurt, nu-mi place! Nici macar nu cred ca as putea sa am orgasm, stiind unde ma aflu!... Intorsi in pat, normal, eu iar am pula sculata. Se uita la ea, mi-o atinge: - Ce ma fac eu cu tine?!? - ...?... - Neaparat trebuie sa prind si eu macar trei-patru ore de somn - altfel, iar sunt rupta - doar m-ai vazut!... Ma uit la ceas - este deja miezul noptii. O inteleg, asa ca-i spun: - Milena, nu-i un capat de tara daca te las acum sa dormi - in fond, sunt descarcat, asa ca n-or sa ma doara... "partile moi"! - ... Esti nebun?... Cum sa las eu asa splendoare sa stea "pe sec"?!?... - ... Bai, stai asa! Daca te iei dupa "frumusetea" mea, nici nu dormim si nici nu mai ajungi maine ma spital!... - ... Ahhhh, ce bine!... Abia astept sa te prind cand am niste libere!... Se apleaca si-mi aplica un pupic, "cast", pe capul pulii, apoi se intoarce si mi se uita in ochi: - O sa trisez un pic, ca sa te termin cat mai repede si sa tragem obloanele... Ma ia la lins, bagandu-mi o mana sub coaie si masandu-mi prostata, apoi, finut, mi-o ia in gura. O simt c-o face cu pasiune, cu voluptate si... clar, cu multa experienta. In nici zece minute, explodez - stie asta, asa ca are grija sa-mi prinda cu mana baza pulii si sa ma maseze, sa mi-o frece, sa mi-o tina belita, in timp ce limba i se "odihneste" pe ata pulii. Nu ma inghite, dar imi inghite sperma. Dupa ce ma linistesc si se asigura ca nu mai am de dat nici un strop de sperma si nici nu au ramas urme, se ridica si se apropie cu fata de a mea: - Sper ca nu esti vreun pudic - oricum, mi-e clar ca ai mai facut chestia asta si cu altele!... - ... Te-ai prins! Nu sunt pudic si nici nu sunt la prima experienta... - ... Vrei sa ma duc sa ma spal pe dinti? O apuc de ceafa si ii bag limba-n gura - mi-o primeste cu drag. Ne sarutam un minut, apoi se intrerupe: - Te rog eu mult, lasa-ma sa dorm! - Gata, puiule! Se intoarce cu spatele la mine. Iau o cuvertura sa ne invelim. Ma lipesc de ea si o imbratisez. Se impinge cu curul, provocator, in pula mea. Imi spune soptit: - Imi place de mor! Somn usor, daca o sa poti!... Chicoteste. Imi aduc aminte: - Stai sa pun ceasul sa sune!... - Nu e cazul - am eu ceasul meu biologic - nu da gres... - OK, atunci, noapte buna!... Se mai freaca un pic, provocator, cu curul de pula mea: - ... As sta cu ea in mine toata noaptea, insa nu pot sa adorm - am incercat... - ... Gata, frumoaso, ca nici daca-mi faci conversatie nu dormi!... - ... Bine, gata!... Intr-adevar, dimineata la cinci simt ca cineva ma saruta pe frunte, ca pe-aia mici... Mi se uita in ochi: - ... Ahhhh ce te-as saruta eu in alta parte, dar intarziem si nu-mi permit!... ........................................... Daca tot am dus-o acasa, am asteptat-o sa se schimbe, apoi am dus-o tot eu la spital. La sase si douazeci eram deja in fata spitalului. Vazand cat e ceasul, comenteaza: - Daca stiam, te trezeam altfel... - ... Vezi ca nu este acelasi trafic putin mai tarziu! Lasa, ca nu s-au bagat zilele-n sac! Face o pauza: - ... Auzi, sunt foarte obraznica daca te rog sa vii diseara la opt sa ma iei de aici? - Sigur, puiule, nici o problema!... - ... Dar, fii atent! Nu ma plimbi, nu-mi dai sa mananc! Vreau cu totul altceva! Miles Miles Williamson was a college professor at a small college in a small town in the northeast part of the United States. He was 32, stood 5'9", slightly overweight, had shoulder length brown hair and gorgeous brown eyes which were often hidden behind thick glasses. He was single, and generally was thought of to be rather stuffy by his students. They thought of him the same they did any other professor, just a teacher and nothing more. They could never imagine that their teachers had lives, and desires of their own, and it was evident in the way the girls chose to dress for their classes. Miles had a very hard time concealing his erection around a few of his female students; especially with the provocative clothing they would wear on Fridays. Miles taught one of the last classes of the day that ran from 7 to 8:30 pm, so many of the students were ready to go out and party right after class. They came in wearing club clothing; short skirts, daisy dukes, skimpy tops, latex clothing, fishnet stockings, and thigh-high boots. He was grateful he had a class so late in the day; at times the outfits he saw provided fuel for his fantasies on the weekend. One girl in particular, Melinda Jones, made his cock ache more times than he could count. Miles had a thing for chubby girls, and Melinda was the most beautiful chubby girl he had ever laid eyes upon. When she first entered his class at the beginning of the school year, he noticed her hair that was dyed purple, and her pierced tongue. The dye faded away over a few weeks, and he really started noticing her more then. She was 22 years old, stood 5'10" with long brown hair that went halfway down her back, wore size 18 dresses and a 40DD bra, she had eyes that were rather perplexing-they changed color! There was a certain air about her that just intrigued Miles and made him yearn to have her closer to him. Sometimes, he even thought that he caught her staring at him with a lustful look in her eyes or he could swear he felt her undressing him with her eyes. As badly as he wanted that to be true, he convinced himself that it was his overactive imagination. He just reminded himself that he was a teacher and that it was wrong for him to even contemplate getting close to her in a non-professional manner. Instead, he fantasized about her as much as possible, and often dreamed of her. One Wednesday afternoon in November on his break period, Miles was sitting in his office going over some lesson plans when there was a knock at the door. "Come in." He was quite surprised to find Melinda entering his office. Immediately his cock jumped in his pants, and he tried his best to control it. He was certain she was just seeking clarification on the assignment he handed out on Friday. "Melinda, how nice to see you. Did you need help with something?" "Yes, professor Williamson, I do need help with something." She said, in what sounded to Miles, a rather sexy voice as she closed the door and sashayed over to his desk. "What can I help you with?" He gulped, trying to convince himself that the sexy voice was only his imagination. "Well…" She said with her finger tracing circles on his desk, "I don't know how to tell you this." "Tell me what?" Miles asked, with beads of sweat forming on his brow. "I've noticed the way you look at me." Melinda told him as she untied her trench coat and let it fall to the floor, revealing the outfit she was wearing underneath. Miles cock stood rigidly at attention at the sight of Melinda's scarcely clad body. She had on a skin-tight purple vinyl dress that came to mid thigh, and showed off plenty of cleavage, along with a pair of black thigh high vinyl high-heeled boots. "This isn't something I can act on Melinda, fantasies are one thing. I could lose my job!" "So you admit it, you want to fuck me, don't you? I won't tell anyone if you don't, I find you quite attractive myself. I want to fuck you, not for a grade, but because you make me hot." She told him as she slid her middle finger up her skirt and pulled it out again, placing her pussy juice soaked finger in his mouth. He couldn't take it any longer, she came closer to him, behind his desk, and he rose to meet her. She quickly cleared off his desk in one swoop, missing the phone by mere inches, and wrapped herself around him. He could smell the sweet scent of her perfume, Love's Baby Soft, and it made his cock ache even more. Hungrily he started nibbling on her neck "God, you don't know how long I've wanted this." He whispered in her ear. "Since the day you first saw me, perhaps? I know that's when it started for me." He picked her up and sat her on his desk. He could feel the dampness between her thighs, and see her hard nipples through the vinyl. She wasn't wearing anything beneath the dress. She reached over and unzipped his trousers and fished his cock out of his boxers. Melinda grinned when she saw how thick his 7" cock was, and wrapped her hand around it, slowly stroking him. He groaned in pleasure. His fingers tweaked her nipples through the dress, and a small puddle formed on his desk. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. "Miles, are you in there?" The voice called. It was Ted Richards, the school dean. "Shit!" Miles thought, the office was a mess, and here he was with his pants down, with a student. "Get under the desk." He whispered. Melinda ducked under the desk; Miles zipped up his pants and crossed the room to answer the door. "Ted! What brings you by?" Miles asked nervously, hoping Ted wouldn't come in. "Well, Barbara Kinsley has gotten ill and can't make her 6 o'clock class tonight, could you cover for her? You're the only one free on the schedule." "Sure, not a problem at all. I just hope that it's nothing serious." "It shouldn't be, she ate the meatloaf from the cafeteria is all." "She should have known better, road kill is better than that stuff." "True. Say, is there someone in there with you?" Ted asked, peering over his shoulder. "Hmm? No, no, of course not, why do you ask?" Miles was beginning to worry that Ted knew what was going on. "Well, that trench coat on your chair there, it's too large to be yours. I thought it might be someone else's." "It, umm.., it is. One of my students left it behind in class this morning. I thought I should hold on to it for them." He said with a nervous chuckle. "Right. Makes sense. Well, thank you." Ted said, and turned to walk down the hallway. Melinda promptly peered up from her hiding spot. "Is it safe?" she whispered. Miles closed the door and came back over to his desk. Melinda got out of from under the desk. "Yes, but I don't know for how long. Perhaps we should do this somewhere else?" "I suppose you're right, it's too bad too. I want you so badly." "We've waited this long, what's a little while longer?" "I wouldn't want you to lose your job. Could I swing by your place tonight?" "No, I live just off campus, we'd get caught. How about Saturday? There's a nice little hotel on the outskirts of the next town over that no one ever goes to besides travelers." "I think I know of it. The Countryside Inn?" "That's the one. Here's my number, call me and we'll iron out the details later." He handed her his business card. "Alright, but on one condition." She told him as she shoved him into his chair, and unzipped his pants. "No, we sho…" he moaned as she took his cock into her mouth and proceeded to give him the best blowjob of his life. Saturday couldn't arrive fast enough for Miles. He agreed to meet Melinda in room 206 at The Countryside Inn. He chose a room that was towards the back of the hotel, so no one could see what was going on from the street. Little chance as there was of someone happening by from the college, he still didn't want to take any chances. He arrived at the room at 12:42 pm, set up the room, put condoms in the drawer next to the bed and his coat on the coat hook, along with drinks in the mini-fridge. He waited anxiously for 2 pm, the time she said she would come. Finally, at 1:57 pm there was a knock at the door. Miles opened it, and there stood Melinda. She was wearing her trench coat again, and carrying a small black duffle bag. "What's in the bag?" "Nothing you need to concern yourself with right now." She told him as she untied her coat and let it fall to the floor. Miles was the happiest man on earth to find that she was completely naked under the coat. She sat the bag with her clothes in it, on the chair Miles had vacated upon her entering the room. "You sure don't waste anytime." He stammered, "And here I am, overdressed." "We can fix that." She told him as she shoved him toward the king sized bed and ripped off his clothes. Soon they were all over each other. He nibbled on her neck while she ran her fingers down his back. They kissed passionately; they could feel electric sparks running under their skin. She ran her nails down his back, and goose bumps popped up all over his body. He hungrily sucked on her nipples and rubbed her pussy. They fell into a clumsy 69 and loved every moment of it. He seemed to lick her pussy just right, and made her cum within 2 minutes. She sucked his cock so well; he was straining not to cum when he got up off of her. "Please fuck me!" she begged, "My pussy is aching for your cock!" " I don't know about that.." he said as he kneeled between her open legs, with a playful gleam in his eyes. "PLEASE!!!" He began rubbing the head of his cock up and down her moist, puffy pussy lips. He would start to enter her, and pull back just as she reached forward. She was getting more and more hot every time he did this, there was a puddle forming on the bed from her sopping wet pussy. Finally, when he thought that he had tortured her enough, he rammed his cock into her pussy. "YES!!!" she screamed, not caring who heard, "FUCK ME!!!" Miles was in heaven, feeling his cock buried deep inside her hot pussy, feeling the ripples come over his cock as she came on him. He suddenly remembered the condoms, but dismissed that thought, this felt too good. He tried hard not to cum, he wanted this to last as long as possible. He flipped her over onto her knees and began fucking her from behind, his balls were slapping against her clit, making her cum even more. "Slap my ass!" He did, and did it hard. The instant his hand hit her ass cheek, she clamped down on him tighter than before. He couldn't take it anymore, and shot his hot load deep inside her eager pussy. He pulled out of her and collapsed on the bed, winded. Melinda collapsed next to him, as he passed out. Miles woke up, to an empty room. He glanced over at the clock on the nightstand, and saw that it was 8:13 pm; he had been asleep for around 4 hours. He got out of bed, looked around the room and found a note on the dresser from Melinda. "Miles, Thank you for the wonderful afternoon. I'm sorry to leave you in such a rush like that, but I had to get to work by 5. I hope you understand. -Melinda" Miles was a little let down, but didn't fret about it too much. He decided to take a shower and go home. Things went on as normal in class after that. He and Melinda exchanged glances now and then, but she showed no sign of having ever done anything with him. This put Miles off a bit, but he figured it was for the best. Then, one day, about 3 weeks after their encounter, Melinda wasn't in class. Miles was slightly concerned, since she never missed class, but figured she had the flu that had been going around. That day grew into weeks, finally Miles asked Ted if he knew what was going on. Ted informed him that Melinda Jones had left the college. Miles was baffled by this revelation, until he received a letter in early January from Melinda. "Dear Miles, I don't know how to tell you this, but I will just come out and say it. I am pregnant. Neither one of us used protection that afternoon, and as a result I got pregnant. I thought it would be best if I left the school since I wasn't dating anyone, and I didn't want you to lose your job. I couldn't run the risk of someone finding out what had happened. I don't want this to be the end of our relationship. Please call me at your earliest convenience. 123-555-8759 -Melinda" Miles came in his pants at the thought of Melinda being pregnant, and at the thought of her breasts dripping with milk. He immediately called Melinda after reading the letter. They talked for two hours, and they agreed that he would resign from the school, and move in with Melinda out west on June 14th, and go to work for a college out there. Melinda knew of one near her that was looking for a new English professor for the following school year. Hopefully, as time went on, they would marry. Everything that had transpired at this college wouldn't be known there, and Miles wouldn't be dating a student. She told him that she was finishing off her degree out there, and should graduate in May. She figured it would be better to finish out there, than where she was before. She truly didn't want to cause Miles his job, little did he know, Melinda didn't try to avoid getting pregnant. She had hoped this would happen, because she had fallen in love with Miles, even in the short time they had together. In time, she had planned on telling him, but not just then. Ted took the news of Miles' resignation with shock, but Miles played it off well. He told him that he was given an offer he couldn't refuse. It certainly wasn't a lie. Every night Miles dreamed of his beautiful pregnant girlfriend waiting for him out West. He couldn't wait to taste her sweet pussy again, and to taste the milk dripping from her tits. He counted down the days until June 14th. Miles and Shanna "I'm so fat," Shanna complained, frowning at herself in her bedroom mirror. I had to stop and push the door open when I heard that. She'd left it cracked and was pouting at her reflection, a t-shirt on over her bikini, her long brown hair back in a ponytail. The two of us were about to walk to the neighborhood pool. "What are you talking about?" I asked my sister. "Have you been taken over by some alien from another planet? Are you trying to develop an eating disorder? You look great." I wasn't lying. Shanna had curves, but not nearly enough to be called "fat," or "heavy" or even "plump." "Miles! You can't just barge in here," she said, scowling. "I might have been naked." Don't I wish, I thought. "Yeah, with the door half open. That would really be like you – geez, you can't even wear a bathing suit without something on over it." I walked in and stood next to her, trying to see what she saw in the long mirror over her closet door. "Where's all this fat?" I asked. "I don't see it." "You're kidding, right?" Her hands went to her stomach, squeezing it through the fabric of her shirt. It was true that she could pinch some flesh there, but I'd seen her in just the bikini before, and in my view her belly had exactly the right gentle swell to be alluring. Unless you were the kind who liked his girls to have a rock-hard six-pack, it looked fine. But she went on anyway: "It's like I'm wearing a tire made of blubber." I shook my head, glad that I was wearing baggy trunks and not something tighter. Shanna's body drove me crazy, and I could feel myself thickening up in my shorts with every second that I examined her in the mirror. "It's a girl's tummy," I told her. "It's supposed to be a little soft. Look at your waist. It curves in just like it ought to." "I'm starting to have a muffin top when I wear my jeans," she insisted. "That's ridiculous." "Well look at my thighs!" I'm trying not to, I thought. But out loud, I said, "You're just searching for an excuse to get out of going to the pool with me. If you don't want to go, all you have to do is say so." She only stared down at her legs in the mirror – her perfectly rounded, sleek legs that curved seamlessly into glorious hips and an absolutely mouth-watering heart-shaped ass. What the hell was she seeing that I wasn't? Frustrated, I snapped, and crossed a barrier that common sense would say I probably shouldn't have. "Look," I said, and without even thinking about it, I leaned over and ran the backs of two fingers up the smooth white arc of her outer thigh. The feel of her leg, soft against my knuckles, almost made me forget why I'd done it, and I had to blink a couple of times before I went on, "Not even a hint of cellulite. There are tons of girls who'd kill to have legs like these." With a twitch, she stepped to the side, away from me. Her expression had a strange look to it, and she took a minute to say, "Don't touch me like that. What a perv." Her rich brown eyes didn't look angry or offended, though. They held something deeper – uncertain and confused. Suddenly, she narrowed her gaze out of that uncertainty and said, "You're right." But just as my heart fluttered upward with the hope that I'd actually made her feel better about herself, she went on: "I don't want to go to the pool after all. You have fun while I put on my fat pants and mope around here." Miles and Shanna I found myself in a kind of shock. Shanna was all over me – her hair dangling in silky curtains around our faces, her breasts cushioning the contact between our chests, the mound of her crotch grinding against mine passionately, insistently, hungrily. I kept opening and closing and re-opening my eyes, not sure if I could believe what was happening, not sure if I was about to pass out. Each time I opened them, though, I saw my sister's face above me, her eyes squeezed tight and the fine brown brows above them tensed in concentration. Oh my god, she's really doing this to me. Slowly, hesitantly, I brought my hands up and put them on her back. Our mouths were a swirl of greedy, consuming kisses, and the flesh between her legs kept rubbing ecstasy upon the base of my manhood, but somehow that contact between my palms and the rolling muscles along her spine made everything fully and completely real. "Oh – Shanna," I gasped. "Shh," she said, cutting off whatever else I might have said with the firm seal of her lips over mine. I brought my right arm up across her to pull her tighter against me. My left hand slid along the small of her back, down to the hollow at the base of her spine, then out along the curve of her right ass-cheek. "Mmm," she said as I dug my fingers in and pressed myself harder up against the damp crotch of her pants. She was really working her hips now, and every stroke of her groin on the rigid root of my dick felt like a wave of honey lifting me out of reality toward the clouds. Soon my right hand joined my left on her ass as I squirmed beneath her, humping up against the firm flesh between her legs with everything I had. "Mnf, mmn," I said, "Mmmuhh!" She laughed again, but it was a laugh that caught itself in a gasp halfway through. "Shanna," I whispered, "Shanna, Shanna ..." My cock was swelling up against her now, as something glorious got ready to burst loose from my balls. Desperately, unthinkingly, I found the waistband of her sweatpants and thrust my fingers beneath it, getting both hands into her pants with her. There was no underwear there – the skin of my palms pressed directly against the soft, muscled hills of her ass, which I clutched at and squeezed as my spine arched and I bucked up against her. A groan of absolute delight welled from my throat and released itself as a wet, muddled sound where our lips tangled glossily against one another. She gave another twist of her hips, and suddenly I was coming. In great, gushing surges, my orgasm spluttered out of me, soaking my underwear and shorts and drooling thickly down around my scrotum as a hot, viscous glaze. I felt Shanna smiling as I spasmed underneath her – actually felt her lips curl with pleasure against mine while she kept up her movements and put her hands in my hair. As my cock spent the last throbbing expulsions of semen into my pants, she drew her knees up, the better to angle her whole cunt against me and ride my groin to her own orgasm. "Ahhh," she breathed quietly, pushing against me with a persistent rhythm. "Ahh, Miles." I watched her now, my eyes open but hers still shut. Her face had lifted up from mine, those flushed, wet lips softly parted as her breathing picked up with each thrust of her body against me. My hands roamed gently, contentedly, across the flesh of her buttocks as her ass clenched and relaxed, driving her woman-place down onto me. Looking at her in her intense, beautiful focus, I marveled how quiet she was compared to the grunting, groaning beast I had been just moments before. Her breath sighed in and out of her with only the barest voice to it. Her lower lip trembled as her body rolled in waves above me, faster and faster, her breath fuller and richer with every intake, yet somehow not getting any louder. I could see the speeding pulse in the soft flesh of her neck, and a rapid vibration in the rings of her nostrils. Her hot juices had soaked all the way through both of our pants, until I could all but feel the drip of it through my pubic hair. "Hnhh, hhnh," she gasped, her mouth going slack and her eyebrows contracting fiercely together. "Oooohhhh –" Then she fell down onto me again, hips suddenly still, her mouth gasping out, "ah, ah, ah," and kissing me between every syllable. The force of her breath against my skin, hot and fast, was exquisite. Slowly, her panting calmed, the grip of her fingers in my hair relaxed, and her legs slid back down parallel to my own. "Ahhhh," she breathed, half into my ear and half into the pillow. I brought my hands out of her pants and wrapped my arms around her. We lay like that for several minutes. Everything – the entire world – was perfect, warm, and peaceful. Finally, she sighed and lifted back up to look at me. Her whole face radiated happiness. I can't imagine what I looked like to her, that her endless brown eyes could stare down at me in such joyful fascination. But eventually I must have started looking like her brother again, because her mouth quirked to one side and she said, "So how long do you think it's going to take for us to start freaking out about this?" I shook my head. "I'm not going to freak out. That was the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me." She nodded and kissed me. "Yeah. Yeah, it was great." Then she sighed again. "But sooner or later I'm going to have to get up off of you, and then later after that I'll go back to my own room, and I'll start thinking about this, and ... well, I see some real potential for freaking out." "So don't go back to your room," I said calmly. "The Petersons don't get home until tomorrow, and this bed's big enough for us both to sleep in." She laughed. Her right thumb brushed my cheek. "If I stay here, I don't think I'll be doing much sleeping." "I don't think you will either. That's kind of the point." A more serious look came into her eyes. "I also don't think I'll be able to stop myself from going further." I raised my eyebrows. "That's also kind of the point." Quietly, she asked, "Do you really think that would be a good idea?" "No," I said, "I think it would be a great idea." She looked at me in silence for a moment, her eyes seeking something in mine. They seemed to find it, then, because she closed them, and stopped talking, and kissed me again. Miles and Shanna But instead of putting a look of relief on her face, the words obviously disappointed her. She turned again to watch my still-vertical rod as it pulsed tall and free in the air. "Well, fuck. Because it looks so goddamned hot, I was ready to just jump on the thing." I swallowed hard. "Shanna, I don't have any condoms ..." "So you do want to." Yes, yes! Jump on my cock and fuck me, Shanna! "Uh ... okay, well – it doesn't really matter if I do, does it? You could get pregnant. God, that would be really fucked up." She shook her head, sending waves through her glossy brown hair. "I'm like two or three days away from my next period. Pretty much as little chance of getting knocked up as there is." She was easing backwards now, sliding one knee back, then the other. Her soft, slick crease, still wet with my spit and her juices, glided down my chest and past my sternum. "But a chance is still a chance, Shan. You really want to risk that?" My sister gave me a smile, a very un-sisterly, un-familial smile, full of lust and appetite. "I really, really do, Miles. If it'll make you feel better, I'll drive to the pharmacy and get some Plan B tomorrow morning." The angle between her soft, smooth ass-cheeks brushed breath-light against my shaft. It dawned on me that I had a perfect view of her now, sitting upright astride my belly, her hands tracing along the muscles of my chest, her breasts full and free, the nipples taut with excitement. And her face – that face, that smile ... I had a hard time finding my breath, but when I did, I said, "Okay. Okay, Shan, let's do it." She dropped her face down and smothered my mouth in a kiss, lifting her hips, easing them back, reaching between us with one hand. Her fingers encircled me. I felt myself throb at her touch. We were both panting. Something wet and luscious touched the tip of my cock ... And just like that, she enfolded me. Completely, in one smooth slide. "Oh my god!" I shouted. A feral, bestial groan slipped out of her: "UHhh!" "Don't move! Don't move!" I said desperately. The clutching sweet hold of her cunt around me was such a shock, I almost came right then. Shanna laughed and ground her hips, pressing her mound against me, rolling her pussy around the electrified girth of my shaft. "Shan, stop, seriously, I'm going to – " She leaned forward to kiss me again, shutting me up and pulling her unbelievable snatch halfway off me. Then, moaning around the seal of our lips, she humped her pelvis up and down three rapid, glorious, slippery-sleek times. I moaned and pushed up into her – and came, and came, and came. "Ah – ah – " The semen shot out of me, hot and pure. "Yes, Miles, come," she whispered in my ear, taking the earlobe in her teeth and flicking her tongue against it. Her hips continued rolling, milking me with the tight throat of her vagina. The orgasm just kept gushing out of me – I had no idea one could last that long. And then, when it seemed like it was about to subside, my brain suddenly said to me, You're coming in your sister! and another geyser blasted up from my balls. "UUauh!" "Mm, yes, put it in me," she breathed. "I want it all inside of me." I throbbed and spewed my seed into her, crying her name, gulping out animal noises, shuddering under her warm, soft form. Then she was kissing me again, and my cock finished its explosion – relaxing, then stiffening again, then relaxing in the heavenly embrace of her love. "Sorry," I gasped. "Sorry ... I didn't mean for it to be so fast ..." She laughed at me. "I did! Jesus, Miles, a guy's not supposed to last very long his first time." "Well, more than four strokes," I said, embarrassed. "Trust me, they were four very good strokes from where I was sitting." "You didn't come." She rolled her eyes. "You just made me come like a motherfucker sitting on your face a minute ago." "Yes, but – " She laughed again. "You're so stupid." The tip of her nose came down and pushed against mine. "Oh my god, I love you so much, you stupid boy!" I held her very tightly then, looking into her eyes, so dark and mysterious and devoted. "I love you too, Shan." She closed her eyes and kissed me, deeply and with that passion I always thought they just make up for movies and books. "We're going to have so much sex tonight," she said huskily, "you'll have trouble walking in the morning." "Why would I need to walk in the morning?" I asked back. "I'm going to keep fucking you in this bed until we hear the Petersons' car in the driveway." She laughed, and I laughed, and we merged our bodies together into bliss. Miles and Shanna "No," I said, thinking. "It's like we're magnets, and we finally figured out that we just had to turn around to the right angle so that we're pulling together instead of pushing apart." She raised one eyebrow. "You mean like, north pole to south pole and south pole to north pole? Is that some kind of sixty-nine reference, or are you just saying you got your pole pointed the right way at me?" I felt a surge that pushed the front of my t-shirt away from my crotch. "Yeah, um, don't keep talking like that, or I'm going to lose interest in figuring out dinner. Which would be okay if I wasn't starving." Shanna laughed. "Fuck dinner. Is there any fucking cereal left in there? We both like the kind with those cute little fucking marshmallows, don't we? Let's just have that." I gave her a scowl and got the cereal box down, then walked to the kitchen table with a huge boner sticking straight out. Shanna pointed and kept laughing as I sat down and scooted my chair in to hide things. "Okay, well, I hope you're happy with yourself. You have to get the bowls and spoons now, because I'm not getting back up." "Yes, Miles," she said, pulling the refrigerator back open to haul out the milk. She thumped it onto the table and went to the counter drawer for spoons, then the cabinet for bowls. When she brought them back, she put a bowl down in front of me first – leaning way over so that her shirt fell away from her front and let me see straight in between her hanging breasts. "There you go. And ... mine ..." She put her bowl down around the corner from mine. "And, your spoon ... spoon to the right of the bowl, right?" Leaning all the way over again, smiling wickedly at me. "And, mine." She sat down at last, shirt settling in over her tits. I could see the nipples poking hard against the fabric – maybe I wasn't the only one getting hot. I poured my bowl full of cereal, then reached to pour hers too. "Thank you!" she said. I felt her bare foot cover mine under the table. We got our milk poured and started eating. Her sole brushed up and down the top of my foot. "Mm!" she said around a crunching, sloshing mouthful. "That's some damn good cereal. If I'd known fucking you would make cereal taste this good, I'd have done it a lot sooner." My dick was spearing out so rigidly it was almost painful. "You know, Shan, sometimes you are just evil." She laughed and took another bite of cereal, hooking her foot around the back of my ankle and sliding it up my calf. I kept eating too, but it was not easy. Finally, I had to say, "Geez, sis, give a guy a break while he's having his dinner." "I'm trying to get you ready to have sex with me on this table." She took another bite, giving me her best sultry expression. But then she started laughing as she chewed – silently at first, then harder and harder until she had to squeeze her eyes shut and put a hand over her face to keep from shooting milk out her nose. By the time she got it under control and swallowed, her face was red and she was doing some kind of cross between a gasp and a hiccup and a laugh. "You all right?" She nodded, her eyes still closed and her shoulders shaking hilariously. "Oh," she said, looking up at last. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. Ha! Oh god, that was just too much." She picked up her spoon and then put it right back down, hand over her mouth to hold in a giggle. I finished chewing a bite of my cereal and made a sad-puppy face and said, "So you don't want to have sex with me on the table?" "Pphhh! Hahahaha – ah – uhah ..." She held up her free hand, desperately signaling me to stop. "Because honestly, you didn't need to try to get me ready to do that. I was ready the minute I saw your ass poking out of the refrigerator while you were talking about hot dogs. 'Miles, I want a wiener for dinner!' Talk about subtle." "Hahaha, okay, okay, you win, stop!" I went back to eating. At some point I'd forgotten about my boner, and it was mostly gone now. In its place was this sparkling, delightful energy – a joy at making my sister laugh. We just leaned over our bowls for a bit, spooning up marshmallows and nuggets of some oat-based substance. I watched her eyes and she watched mine, but we didn't say anything. Finally, I started having to fish around for the last few bits floating in my milk, and I broke away to look down. When I looked back up, she was leaning on an elbow, gazing at me. I immediately thought, Holy shit, do people really "gaze" at each other? I guess they do. "We're going to have a nicer dinner, sometime," she said, pulling in a deep breath and then letting it go contentedly. "We'll pick something we both like. Lasagna, maybe. We'll cook it up when we have the house to ourselves, and we'll find the Petersons' best tablecloth, and we'll put candles halfway between us, with enough space in the middle to look at each other without blinking from the flames." "What if the Petersons don't go out of town again before it's time for us to move out?" "Then we'll do it when we get our apartment together. The first night we're there, in fact." I shivered a little. "That sounds good." She picked up her bowl and drank down the milk. I watched the muscles of her throat move as she swallowed. "Shan," I said. She put the bowl down and wiped her thumb across her lips. "Yeah?" "I don't want to fuck you on the table anymore." "I don't want to fuck on the table either." She reached over and gripped my hand tightly between her fingers, which were cool and soft and strong all at once. "Let's go back to bed." I stood up, keeping hold of her hand, and we went. Miles Apart on Date Night I still don’t understand why she came here. It wasn’t as if our lives were empty or lacked for happiness, but she came anyway, and then all of this darkness was dragged out of me and I don’t know how to put it back. I want her to go, but I’m terrified that she will. I want her to leave me and her sister in the peace of our life together, but the stronger, hungrier parts of me couldn’t care less about my girlfriend. I’m afraid that my girlfriend will find out, or that she knows already. If I had been just a little stronger a few months ago, this may never have happened. It was a moment where my girlfriend was perched on a stool in the kitchen of our apartment, talking on the phone to her mother. She’s very good at false astonishment and faked sympathy; and I was paying only cursory attention, until she was looking at me with expectant eyes. I raised my eyebrows to indicate I didn’t understand what she wanted from me. “I don’t know how long she could stay,” Jessica was saying. “We’re always pretty busy around here.” She looked at me with the expectant eyes again, though more frustrated now than anything. I returned a glance that indicated ignorance in the subject matter, although that was not really true. I had gathered from the half of a conversation that Jessica’s little sister was leaving her sparring partner of a husband after three months of wedded bliss, and their mother thought our roomy two-bedroom walk-up was the perfect place for the sister to decompress. I pretended ignorance because I didn’t care, and because Jessica knew exactly what I thought about Charlotte. My Jess was the middle child of her family, with a brother three years older, and then the sister who was seven years younger, which led me to surmise that the latter was the result of an error-filled evening for her mother and father. Whatever the circumstances, she was so much younger that this little sister was the apple of her parents’ eyes, and had been spoiled to a fault. She wasn’t responsible for any part of her life, she was miserable to be around when everything wasn’t going her way, and she ran to her father for money at least once a month. He gave it to her with little more than a stern look and a grumbled admonition. I say I should have been stronger, because I could have ended the problem with Charlotte at that very point. Had I shaken my head and told my girlfriend “absolutely not,” then no little sister. But, as it was, I had been trying to win over her parents ever since we decided to move in together. They were traditionalists, ol’ Mom and Pop, and were unhappy about my corrupting of their daughter. Ours had been a mutual decision, of course, but I was the villain. I had every intention of marrying Jess, and I told them as much, even to the point of making a joke about sharing expenses, which didn’t go over at all well. But I was trying to get on their good side, and if Charlotte in our spare bedroom accomplished that, then I wasn’t going argue. Jess wanted me to, and that was why she gave me the look. I felt bad hanging her out to dry like that, but I was a little tired of me always being the jerk. It wasn’t more than a day later that I came home from work and Mom and Pop were in my living room, talking to Jess about how sweet she was to take the poor thing in. And there was Charlotte, on my favorite part of the sofa. I put on my happiest face and said hello to everyone. Jess must have been lobbying in my favor, because everyone smiled back, including Mom and Pop. We ordered pizza and talked for a while, the five of us. I helped Pop move a few things into the spare bedroom, and he shook my hand. Mom hugged me when she left, and gave me a beaming, toothy smile. To top it all off, Charlotte retired to her new room when her parents left, leaving me alone with my girlfriend for the rest of the evening. Things weren’t too bad at that point. The next day was different. I work long days at the Post Office, and I like to come home to relax for a bit before we eat. Jess works too, although hers is clerical, and she tends to be less tired. We compromise by getting cozy on the sofa for a bit until it’s time to make dinner or go grab something. I walked in the door with kicked-off shoes and ESPN on my mind. The first thing I heard was the stereo playing some pop fluff, and I came around the corner to find Charlotte laying on the couch in a tank top and underwear. She jumped up at once and scrambled into the bedroom, shouting apologies the whole way. When she came back out, there were sweatpants over the underwear. “I’m so sorry,” she said, both hands cupped around her mouth like a beak. “I thought Jess came home first.” I laughed it off. “I’m sorry, too. No, Jess is in the middle of a project, and she’s had some late nights getting it done.” Charlotte shook her head. “Sorry, I feel like such an idiot.” “Hey, whatever you do in private is your business,” I said, laughing. “Just remember I get home about four-thirty.” Jess came in the door about ninety minutes of awkward silence later, and Charlotte retold the story for her at once. My girlfriend chuckled, rolled her eyes at her little sister and said: “Why was it okay if it was me? What makes you think I want to see you in your underwear?” I was in the kitchen ordering Chinese food, and I had to ask the guy to wait a second because I was laughing so hard. Dinner was fine, we eat there at least once a week and it’s always the same. The conversation was interesting and animated, especially considering it was Jessica’s snotty little sister we were talking to. She told us all about her marriage to Mike the drunk, the few good times they had, and most of the bad. Above all, how she realized that ten years between them was too much of an age difference. We responded with good-natured teasing and genuine concern. Jess must have been feeling the bottle of wine we opened for dinner, because she even expressed her opinion that Mom and Pop hadn’t taken Charlotte back because they were trying to get her to grow up a bit. No sooner were those words out that we gave each other a quick, panicky look, fearing she had just shattered the pleasant buzz. But little Charlotte surprised us, and just nodded. “I know that’s why,” she said. “And they’re probably right.” Most of my other memories of that first evening together are blurred or lost, all except Charlotte’s tank top. She never bothered to change into other clothes during the course of the night, and as we sat talking under the bright cone of light over the kitchen table, I was staring at her breasts. The shirt was white and tight, and I was fairly certain she didn’t have a bra on underneath. I tried to look away, of course, but my eyes always found their way back. She had at least three inches of cleavage showing as she was hunched over the table talking. I tried to keep my glance moving, but that caught my eye for most of the night. At one point, her nipples were making small bumps in the fabric, and Jess got up to pour some more wine. I looked up from the tight tank top and found Charlotte’s eyes watching me. My heart shook and I must have looked stricken, because she smiled. I found an apologetic expression, put my hand to my face and mouthed the word: sorry. She returned a glance that was half smiling and the other half puzzled. Then Jess sat back down and the conversation picked back up. We all went to bed late that night. I was tired the next day, although I had a story for the guys at work: My girlfriend’s sister is staying with us. Yeah. Eighteen years old. EIGHTEEN. Yeah. When I came home yesterday she was laying around in her underwear. Yeah. In her underwear. Yeah. Understandably, I was the hero of the day, and more than one person tried inviting himself over. Things were more or less normal for the next week or so. Charlotte was fully dressed each time I came home, and we laughed about it each time, for good measure. Jess was finishing with her project and her work days were ending earlier each day. We decided to celebrate by going to dinner and a movie the next night, which was a Friday. In a fit of good cheer we even decided to invite Charlotte, who graciously declined and said we ought to have some time alone together. The next day I raced home from work, excited about our date evening. Jess was already home, which I found odd, and when I walked in neither the stereo nor the television was turned on. It was curious enough that I called out and strode into the bedroom. She was in there with a suitcase propped open on the bed and throwing clothes in. Her packing was laced with angry epithets and mild profanity, which was the only kind of profanity she ever used. “Is everything all right?” I was panicked, as any man might be to come home and find the woman he loves furious and packing her bags. She paused a moment to look at me, then look at the bags and look at me again. At once she started laughing and walked over to put her arms around me. “Sorry, sweetie,” she said. “I didn’t realize what this might look like.” I was laughing, too, but more out of relief. “So, what is it, if it isn’t what it looks like?” She shook her head and the glint of frustration came back. “We sent the project off, but the client is wavering. Jack wants me and Lucinda to fly to L.A. and hold his hand until he decides.” “Why can’t he just send Lucinda? She’s the manager, you just work there.” Jess put on an exaggerated, toothy grin, and gestured to her face. “Jack thinks a pretty face may be enough to sway the deal. He wants our best foot forward, his words exactly.” I shook my head. “I think that qualifies as sexual harassment.” “Probably,” Jess agreed with a laugh. “I should sue.” “I’m serious,” and I showed her my serious expression to drive home the point. “It’s all right. It’s not that big of a deal, and Lucinda thinks she needs me there. If it was anyone else I’d tell them to screw themselves, though.” I agreed with a nod. “When do you go, then?” Jess glanced at the clock and started packing again. “I’m supposed to be at the airport in an hour.” “Tonight? But I was excited about our date night.” She walked over, shirt in hand, to give me a hug and a quick kiss. “I know, me too. It’s only tonight and tomorrow night, though. We fly in early Sunday. We’ll do lunch and a movie” I smiled and kissed her back. “I’ll take it. Let’s get you to the airport, then.” So we packed her bag and I carried it out to my car. “Where’s Charlotte, anyway?” “I think she was going to a job interview,” Jess said. “You know how she is. No note, no message on the machine, just gone.” “I thought you two were getting along.” “I’m sorry, you’re right: we are,” she conceded. “There’s just a lot of years of the spoiled little girl to wade through.” “Well, you’re doing a great job, I think. It’s a nice thing for you to let her stay with us.” “Thank you.” Jess patted my leg and grinned. “It was nice of you to let me make the decision and pretend like you didn’t know what was going on.” I smiled and ducked my head, but had no response. At the airport she kissed me and got out. “Try to be nice to my sister while I’m gone, okay?” “We’ll be fine.” “Thanks sweetie. I’ll call you.” I was in a contemplative mood driving home, and I guess that more than anything explains why I was so quiet coming in the door. I didn’t think to knock, of course, because it was my apartment. I didn’t think to call out that I was home, because I was lost in irritation that my girlfriend was gone for the weekend. But I unlocked the door, walked in, and closed the door behind me, quiet as a mouse. I had taken my jacket off and was about to toss the keys on the counter when I heard the strange noises. Instead of tossing, I set the keys on the counter and listened. At first it sounded like low talking, and as I concentrated, it sounded like crying. It was only a few steps to the bedroom where Charlotte was staying, and where the sound seemed to be coming from. When I look back on the incident, it should have been obvious what was going on, or at least a good, working guess. But the door was standing wide open and I looked in anyway. The door was in one corner of the small room, and the head of the bed was in the opposite corner, running along the wall in my direction. My view was clear of the bed, and Charlotte lying on top of it. She was reclined, propped up on a few pillows. The first thing I really noticed was the large swath of her stomach open to my view, and as I looked at that, the whole picture came into focus. She ran her palm across the bare stomach, and up underneath the shirt which was bunched under her breasts. I watched as the hand cupped her breast under the shirt, and her thumb stroke across the stiffened nipple. Her other hand was hidden down the front of her shorts, although I could see the muscles in her forearms flexing, and the shape of her hand was moving quickly. The noise I thought was talking or crying turned out to be a quiet moaning. I was transfixed. I have no idea how long I stood there, watching, but it could only have been a few seconds. The decent thing would have been to turn away at once, though I didn’t, so every second was just gaping. First at her feet, flat on the bed, and her legs, bent and the knees and spread apart. I watched the skin of her stomach and her own hand pulling gently at her breasts. From my angle I couldn’t see where her other hand was making contact under her shorts, but I looked at where her wrist disappeared, and what of the movement I could see. At last I looked up at her expression as it was pinched in concentration and desire. She had a slight smile and an open mouth, and her eyes were closed. She was beautiful in this moment of pleasure, and I was more drawn to her face than anything else I had seen. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and noticed a figure lurking in the doorway. With a sharp gasp and a violent start, she pulled her hands away from her body and pushed herself up to sitting on the bed. I jumped in shock as well, and turned and walked away from the door, calling out “I’m sorry I’m sorry” over and over again. I heard her feet hit the floor and quick, thumping steps over to the door. It slammed closed behind me. I was standing in the kitchen ten minutes later when the door creaked open again. I pulled in the knob of a cupboard and stared inside as if deciding what to make for dinner, and also because I thought it looked less guilty, somehow. She appeared in the kitchen, having taken much quieter steps than those she stormed across her bedroom with. “Hey.” I looked over at her, determined to meet her eyes only. I succeeded in that, but in my periphery, still managed to notice she was still wearing the same t-shirt and gym shorts. I looked down at the floor and shook my head. “I’m really really sorry, Charlotte.” “That’s okay.” Her tone was determined, as if dismissing my apology for being beside the point. “No, I feel terrible. I’m sorry.” I was shaking a bit now, and I was afraid to look up from the floor. I’m not even certain why, because I wasn’t afraid of her, and I could only assume it was shame or self-loathing. “Really, it’s okay.” She took a step closer. “It’s not a big deal.” I looked at her then, making as sheepish a face as I could. “I should have let you know I was home. I shouldn’t have been watching you.” Charlotte laughed then, and the sound of it washed relief over me. “Don’t worry about it,” she said with smile. “Look at you, I think you’re shaking.” I laughed too, less for humor than a release of tension, which I seemed to be doing often that evening. “I just felt terrible. I was certain you were angry, and I didn’t know what that would do to the new relationship you have with Jess. I thought I had ruined everything for the two of you.” “No, of course not. Why would you think that?” “Well, the stomping feet and the slammed door was my first clue.” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “I forgot about that. I wasn’t really mad. You startled me so much, and once I realized it was you, then I was embarrassed. In fact, I came out here to apologize to you.” “Apologize to me? What for?” Red was spreading across her cheeks, which was charming to see. “I thought it might bother you that I was doing that.” I gave her a teasing look, so she continued. “You know what I mean, it’s like being caught by your dad. He may not say anything, but you know he disapproves.” I was smiling now, a genuine smile this time, and much relieved. “I’m not your dad. I don’t care.” I could see that she was relieved, as well. As if on impulse, she stepped over and gave me a hug, which I returned. “Good, now that we’ve got that out of the way,” she said, “why are you home? And where’s Jess?” The fiasco with the project and the ruined date night was explained as we ordered and waited for pizza. She told me about her job interview and the position she thought she was going to be offered. We spoke in the exaggerated, overly energetic tones of two people who are trying hard to reconcile differences through friendship. After dinner, she watched the third period of a hockey game on TV with me, more to be appeasing, I think, than anything. After that she excused herself to go read in her room. I resisted the urge to tease her about other things she might be doing in there. I flipped channels for a while and settled on an action movie, one I had seen dozens of times and could watch with only half my attention. As the hour grew late, I was having a difficult time concentrating on anything but the sharply focused images of Charlotte on the bed. I felt guilty about my mental leering after our expressions of understanding, but my blood was rushing hotter because of it. I stood up and walked around a bit, closing the blinds against the night and making sure our doors were locked. I turned off all the lights except one in the hall and Charlotte’s light was still on. I sat down to continue the movie, and decided I lay my head back and doze. Nothing worked to clear my mind. I never fell asleep, and when I closed my eyes, the images became more clear. I thought about taking a shower and matching Charlotte’s act of self- pleasure with one of my own, but I didn’t move from the couch. It was while I was in this vein of thought that the phone rang, and Jess was calling to let me know she was okay. We only talked for a few minutes. She gave me a quick rundown of her evening and what they were going to do tomorrow. She told me she was fine, and that her room was nice. I told her that I missed her terribly, and I wished I could have gone along. She had me write down her return flight information, and told me she was already excited for Sunday. We said “I love you” to each other and hung up before the long distance bill could ring up. I flopped back down on the couch, and Charlotte came padding out of her room to join me. She sat on the other end of the sofa, using the arm rest as a back rest and folding her feet up next to her. “I like this show,” she said. I looked over at her, and in the darkness of the room, the light from the television and the hallway flickered and made bright spots in her eyes. “Me too,” I said, and before looking back at the television I looked at where her thighs disappeared into her shorts. “That was Jess,” I said. “She’s doing good, and says hi.” “Good.” We watched TV in silence for a while. I grew bored with the movie, but didn’t suggest changing it because she was concentrated on the show. She looked over at me and rubbed her knees. “I’m getting cold. Would you mind if I sat with you?” “You want to sit over here with me?” I had heard her just fine, but the question surprised me. “Yeah.” She scooted over before I could answer. “You look nice and warm over here and I’m freezing.” She shoved her hip up against mine, and burrowed under my arm, which I had thrown across the back of the couch. Miles Awakens This is a prequel to Miles. * The bar was dark and smoky. Jazz music sliced through the plumes of smoke. Miles Williamson sat in the corner, nursing his bourbon. Miles was 22 years old, and in his senior year of college. He stood at 5'9" with shoulder length brown hair, and was in average physical shape. He had a long day at school and was trying to drown himself in his drink. He had been writing his senior thesis, when the computer he was working went on the fritz, and he lost everything. 6 months of work, down the drain. The disk he had saved everything to, was wiped out by the crash of the computer. Just when he thought things couldn't get worse, his roommate hurled all over his bed. So Miles sat in the corner of McAllister's bar, drowning his sorrows in bourbon. Suddenly, Miles had the urge to look up from his glass. A tall brunette was standing in front of him. She was positively radiant. Her curly locks graced the tips of her shoulders. Her green eyes were absolutely piercing, Miles felt as if she could see through to his very soul. She had the most perfect crimson lips, which parted to speak to him: "Hello, my name is Lydia. Is this seat taken?" as she gestured to the dusty red pleather booth seat, with her dainty hand. "Huh? Um..yeah..I mean, no. My name is Miles, have a seat." Miles couldn't believe that this gorgeous creature wanted to sit with him. His eyes wandered over her voluptuous body. She had full hips, and full breasts. She easily wore a size 22. Miles was a little astounded that he was so attracted to her; he never really went for chubby gals before. But she was so different; she dripped sex like honey from the honeycomb. "You come here often?" She enquired. "Not really. I'm going to school at Smithton University, I'm usually busy with that." "Well that would explain why I've never noticed you before. I thought to myself that you were simply too handsome for me to have not noticed before." Miles felt his member begin to throb and grow in his pants. "You're not so bad looking yourself." "Do you have any plans for tonight?" "Not really, everything I've done today hasn't turned out so well, so I'm taking a break." "Mmm. Would you like to come back to my place for some coffee?" "Sure, I would love to." Miles responded. He simply could not believe his luck, the sexiest woman he had ever seen, just picked him up. Lydia grabbed her purse and said "This way, I'll drive." As Miles followed her out of the bar, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her full ass. His cock strained even more in his pants on the way over to her place. Once they arrived at Lydia's apartment, they were all over each other. Miles wrapped his arms around her as they kissed, drinking in the nectar from her lips. Her tongue danced in his mouth, more dominant than his own. His hands wandered down to her ass, groping it through the tight black skirt she was wearing. Lydia's hands made their way to his pants, unzipping them and releasing his 7" trouser snake from its prison of cotton. "I want to taste you." She purred as she worked her way down to his beautiful cock. "Oh, god, that feels good." He moaned as she wrapped her tongue around his member. Lydia knew how to make a man cum, and within minutes, she was gulping down Miles' seed. As she arose, she began removing her clothing. Miles just stood in awe as he watched her unwrapping herself. "Follow me." She said saucily, as she sauntered off to the bedroom. Miles followed behind her, discarding his clothes along the way. Lydia peeled back the red satin sheets from her bed, and laid herself down. Miles gazed upon her flesh, like he was a starving man preparing for a feast. He stood at her legs, and gently spread them apart. The scent coming from her unshaved bush was heavenly. Miles began salivating before he even got a taste in his mouth. Greedily, he dove into her muff. Using his deft fingers, he spread apart her labia lips, exposing her hard clit. He cupped her clit into his mouth as she let out a moan. He gazed up her body, to find her sucking on her left nipple, and toying with the other. He resumed his assault on her clit, as she writhed under his tongue. The scent of her pussy was growing muskier, as her juices poured out from her sweet hole and unto the bed. Violently she came, and raised her hips off of the bed. Miles lapped away at her juices, drinking them all. "Fuck me." She begged, as she handed him a condom. Hastily he put it on, and slid into her hot box. Miles had never felt anything so soft and velvety in his life, wrapped around his cock. As he gazed down upon his lover, he was awestruck at how erotic her big breasts were as they swung in rhythm with their fucking. "Oh god yes, that feels so goooooood!" She squealed as she came on his cock. Lydia flipped Miles over on the bed, so she was on top of him. He was in absolute heaven as she rode his cock for all it was worth. Miles was being exposed to new levels of pleasure, as she rode him and stroked her clit. Finally, after an hour, he couldn't get any higher, and he exploded into orgasm. "Fuck yes!" He cried as he came inside of her. Lydia slowed her strokes, and dismounted him. She laid herself down in bed next to him, and drifted off to sleep. Miles fell asleep with the biggest grin on his face. * After that, he never was the same. Lydia and he had a few flings off and on, and Miles was a changed man because of it. She taught him the beauty of all women, especially voluptuous ones. Miles Away "It'll work, Shawn. Swear to God." Shawn Graber stared at his roommate, Rob and wondered if the dude had totally lost his mind. "Dude, you need to seriously take some time off from surfing the Internet. Your brain is fried." "No, dude. I'm really serious." He let out a loud sigh, closing his Macro Economics book and turning to face him. "Okay, Shawn. Tell me about this miraculous scam." "It's not a scam." He dashed to his side of the dorm room and brought over a large manila envelope, upending its contents on his roommate's notes. "Check it out." A DVD and a handbook fell out and Shawn picked up the latter, reading the title: How To Make Any Woman Do What You Want. "Rob, are you serious?" "Dude, all you do is watch the disk and it happens." "Yeah, right." Seeing his disbelief, Rob moved in close and whispered, "I did Robin Murphy last week." Shawn's jaw dropped. Robin Murphy was one of the most beautiful women on campus and was last year's Homecoming Queen. "No way!" "Way!" The excitement of sharing his secret shined in his eyes. "And I can prove it, too." Rob launched himself into a frenzy, hooking his video camera up and attaching the S-video cord to the TV set. Static filled the screen and then, a beautiful blonde came into focus, her pupils wide in blue eyes and a silly smile plastered on her face. Rob voice murmured instructions from the background. "Tell everyone who you are." "Hi, everyone." Robin waved at the camera, her voice robotic. "My name is Robin." "Very good." The camera swung around to the bed and again, Rob's disembodied voice floated into the picture. "Now, take your pajamas off and get on the bed." The camera jerked as he put it on its stand and stood just out of focus. Robin removed her windbreaker, then pulled her pajama top off. Her hard-nippled D cups swayed gently as she reached for the waistband of her bottoms and slid them down. "Oh, yeah. That's great!" Robin smiled slightly, tossing her pajamas away and climbing onto the bed. "Spread your legs for me, Robin and show everyone how wet your pussy is for my cock." Shawn watched in absolute amazement as the delectable Robin Murphy turned her legs towards the camera, opened her legs and slipped two impeccably-manicured nails into her trimmed quim. The dark pink petals glistened with cum and she squeezed her inner muscles, making a small river of creamy fluid exit her hole and drip down between her ass cheeks. "Okay, Robin. Time to make old Rob feel good." Rob got on his knees, his side to the camera, giving a silhouette of his short but hard prick. The girl bent between his legs and Shawn watched as she greedily slobbed his knob, her pink tongue licking and her cheeks flexing with the suction she applied to his rod. Noises followed, Rob alternately encouraging, then urging her in her cocksucking until he gently pushed her back. "You're a fantastic cocksucker." Shawn cooed, stroking the soft globes of her breasts and bending to taste her rosy nipples. At his direction, she laid on her back and opened her creamy thighs to him, wrapping her arms around her as his cock sunk deep into her pink hole. Both of them groaned and Shawn began pumping her like a gorilla in heat. It only took seconds before he was cumming, grunting her name as she whimpered through her own orgasm. Sweaty and wearing the largest shit-eating grin on his face, Rob extracted himself from her grasp and the screen filled with static again. "Well?" It took him several moments before he was able to speak. "I can't believe it. How the hell did you do it?" "The DVD!" He said excitedly, then his expression grew serious. "Listen, I know how hard you took the break-up with Susie. What if you could get her back?" "She would never come back to me. She complained that I worked and studied too much to carry on a relationship." "She told me that you weren't spontaneous enough and that you didn't take the time to get her horny." "Christ, Rob! I'm a full-time student, working a full-time job! When do I have time for romance?" "Now." Rob placed the DVD in his hand. "Sit and watch." The DVD took a little more than twenty minutes to watch and amounted to nothing more than a soap opera-type movie. Rob was grinning happily at her while Shawn shook his head. "Was that The Bold and the Beautiful or Guiding Life?" "Neither." Rob smiled at Shawn. "You'll understand tonight." "Whatever, Rob. I've gotta study." Shawn went back to his books and notes, turning his back on his roommate and not noticing the smile that Rob had on his face. * * * * * Two hours of intense studying later, Shawn turned in for the night, his brain exhausted and dead in his skull. Rob had gone to bed much earlier without another word to him since watching the DVD but Shawn didn't really care. He was still pissed off that Rob had interrupted his important studying for that. He could have watched Girls Gone Wild and been a lot more entertained. Sleep began to draw him in her comfortable arms and he nestled deeply, hoping for a dreamless, refreshing sleep. "Shawn?" He opened his eyes, blinking sleepily and was surprised to see Susie standing by the bed, her gorgeous dark, silky hair tumbling over her bare shoulders. "Susie." He didn't need to say anything else. She bent down, her mouth brushing over his lightly before firmly pressing against his, her warm breath mingling with his. He whimpered, his cock hardening in an instant as his hands roamed the length of her naked back and his senses sang with her sweet perfume. He pushed his tongue against hers, awakening the passion that he'd kept inside his heart, waiting for her return. He pulled her down against him, rolling her over so that she was under the covers and proceeded to run his hands all over her body, nearly smiling at the soft hum that vibrated through her. His fingers caressed her scalp and neck, memorizing places that he'd taken for granted and learning new ones that he hadn't explored. The way she responded told him that he was doing the right things and when she gasped the breath out of his lungs, he knew that she was enjoying the way his fingers were stroking her pussy lips. Juices coated his hand and he deepened the kiss just as he slid a thick finger into her. She moaned and arched against him, trying to press her hips into his hand and he added another finger, slowly stroking her puffy lips and drawing more juice onto his hand. The moment his thumb encircled her clit, she cried out, her pussy muscles sucking his fingers deeper. He pulled them out and let her watch him lick them clean, noting the flush on her cheeks and bent to give each of her nipples a quick suck before settling himself between her knees. Her arms wound around his neck, pulling him down for another soul-stirring kiss as his prick sank into her honeypot and he shivered at her warm wetness. She had never been this wet before and he knew that it was because he took the extra time to get her to his level. Each stroke bathed him in her juices and he felt himself harden even more within her sheath. She felt it as well and her pussy thrummed around him as she met with two more orgasms. Finally, he changed his rhythm, slowing down a bit and taking his entire length out of her and slamming it back in. Susie found her voice, chanting his name as each stroke brought her closer and closer to the ultimate release and her tongue curled around his when her body began to shake. Shawn held onto her as tightly as he could as his own body roared in its release. Her pussy squeezed him softly, milking every last drop of cum from his pulsing cock and they sighed in fatigued bliss, holding each other close. "I love you, Susie." Was the last thing he whispered before falling asleep with her still-trembling body in his arms. * * * * * Shawn awoke the next morning, completely revived from the previous nights' study session and lifted his head from the pillow to check the time. Eight-thirty. Enough time to go out for breakfast and cram in a little more studying before the eleven o'clock final ... "Quit hogging the covers." He whipped his head around, astounded to find Susie's smiling face buried in the pillow next to his. "What are you doing here?" "You asked me to come." She nuzzled his shoulder, giving him a playful bite. "Don't you remember?" "But you live ... " "I drove for five hours, Shawn. Don't you remember asking me to come here?" The DVD! His mental message really worked! "Yes, I do, honey. I'm sorry. I'm just waking up." Her hand curled around his hard prick and gave it a tender tug. "Feels like someone's already awake." "How about a little dessert before breakfast?" As Shawn turned her onto her back, his tongue deep in her mouth, he made a mental note to thank his roommate and laughingly wondered if Rob had already gotten the message. Miles Away "Sorry," Debbie said, her eyes refocusing. "I was miles away. What were we talking about, again?" "Hypnosis," Kurt prompted, an indulgent smirk on his face. An entirely unfair indulgent smirk, Debbie thought as she straightened up on the couch and tried to look attentive. Frankly, there were two possibilities involved here, and Kurt had automatically jumped to the one that involved him being a charismatic and captivating speaker and her being a chronic woolgatherer, as opposed to the one that Debbie privately favored (which involved Kurt having a speaking voice like a Mister Rogers record played at slightly the wrong speed, and a habit of twiddling a charm bracelet around his fingers while he talked.) "Right, hypnosis," Debbie said. She should have guessed; it had been Kurt's hobby-horse for the last few days, ever since he took that online course. Honestly, how much did he really think he could learn from the Internet, anyway? Three days, and he was behaving like he was Svengoolie or something. Her eyes narrowed as she remembered a bit more of what he'd been saying. "Right, hypnosis," she said in a slightly harder tone of voice. "You know, I really do wish you'd stop telling me how easy I'd be to hypnotize. It's actually kind of insulting." "And I wish you'd stop feeling insulted when I tell you that you'd be a very good hypnotic subject," Kurt responded mildly, fiddling with his charm bracelet. "It's not about being weak-willed or easily led, it's about being imaginative and being a good listener. You have a natural ability to focus, Debbie, to listen and..." Debbie's heart sank. She'd been hoping to head him off at the pass, having grown pretty thoroughly bored with the lectures on hypnosis over the past...she glanced at the clock on the cable box. Three hours? Dear suffering Lord, he went on. But it appeared that all she'd done was trigger another one. He continued futzing with the bracelet as he droned on, snagging each charm with his thumb and sliding the chain along his fingers, then reaching out to pull the next one into reach. By this point in the conversation, the little gemstones were almost more familiar to her than the topic; Debbie practically knew their order by heart. There was the little turquoise crescent, which meant that the amber circle would be coming around next, followed by the little pink triangle, followed by the red square, followed by the...the...what came after the pink triangle? Was it the purple diamond, or was there something in between the purple diamond and the pink triangle? She knew that the last one was the little black star, the one that looked like it was made of obsidian, but-- "Debbie?" Debbie looked away from the bracelet with a start. "Sorry," she said. "I was just sort of distracted for a moment. Um, you were talking about hypnosis." She actually didn't remember what he'd been saying right before he'd called her name, but hypnosis was a good bet. She couldn't wait for him to find something else to fixate on, but that was how it was with Kurt. Once he found something he was interested in, he threw himself into it. For a while, at least. "Yes," Kurt said, his voice suggesting infinite reserves of patience that nonetheless took tremendous amounts of effort to draw upon. "I was asking if you were ready to let me hypnotize you yet." Debbie tried to pretend she'd gotten intensely interested in Kurt's charm bracelet for a moment. (Ah, there it was! The quartz rectangle, between the red square and the purple diamond!) "I don't know," she said, pretending to at least mull the idea over in her head. "I mean, I really should be getting out of the apartment and meeting with Liz, soon..." Actually, they didn't really have plans for the night, but Debbie knew that Liz would back her up in an instant if Debbie said something about a prior engagement. It was an iron-clad excuse, marred only slightly by the fact that Kurt had known Liz almost as long as Debbie had and knew perfectly well when she was lying. And knew when Debbie was lying, too, for that matter. "It doesn't hurt," Kurt said. "In fact, it feels really nice. It's sort of like sinking into a soft, warm bath, letting the water soak into every pore of your body and relaxing each and every muscle." It took a lot of Debbie's self-control not to roll her eyes, but focusing on the charms as they went past helped. "You feel all your stress, all your thoughts, even the passing of time itself just melt away, Debbie. It feels so good..." Debbie let out a small sigh, resigning herself to another one of Kurt's monologues. The truth was, Debbie was a little reluctant (not nervous, she mentally clarified to herself, just to make sure she wasn't getting any funny ideas. Not nervous at all. She was just...) reluctant to let Kurt hypnotize her because...well, because she couldn't help thinking that it might somehow shift the balance of power in the apartment a little. She and Kurt had been room-mates for a long time, and everything felt...settled. They'd gotten over the little tensions of being mixed-gender room-mates a long time ago, they'd sorted out their feelings for each other, and things were all...settled. But if she let Kurt make her do...things...Debbie shifted nervously, admitting to herself that she wasn't quite sure what hypnosis could make you do beyond making you cluck like a chicken and dance like Madonna...well, who knew where that could end? Best not to find out, really. Best to just let Kurt know in no uncertain terms that she had no interest in being his 'perfect hypnotic subject' and-- "Debbie?" Debbie looked up rapidly, trying to pretend she'd been paying attention all along. "Yes?" she said. "Did you hear what I asked you?" Kurt replied, his expression suggesting he already knew the answer to his question. "Um, sorry, I was woolgathering a bit. Just a little bit!" she said quickly, in response to Kurt's exasperated sigh. "Go ahead, ask it again, I'll listen this time. Promise." "I asked if it was warm in here," Kurt responded. "Oh! Um, yeah, sure, a bit," Debbie replied, thankful that at least this time they'd gotten off the topic of hypnosis. She sat up on the couch a little, realizing just how lethargic the warm air and (sorry, Kurt) dull conversation had made her. She'd practically been slumped over onto her side. Surreptitiously, Debbie shifted the pillow to hide the tiny spot of drool. Kurt leaned back in his chair a little. "Then go ahead and do whatever you need to get comfortable," he said. "If I'm going to hypnotize you, it'll go better if you're free of all distractions and discomfort." "Now wait a minute," Debbie said, slipping her shirt over her head. She could feel herself cooling off already as she tossed it on the floor. "I don't recall ever actually agreeing to this whole 'hypnosis' thing!" Kurt put on his best 'wounded doe' expression, the kind he saved for claiming that he'd already done the dishes the last two times and she'd just 'forgotten'. "Oh, come on, Debbie," he said, "do I really need to go over all this again? Trance is a perfectly natural experience, the kind of thing that you do every single day. You know how easily you get lost in a book or a good TV show, Debbie, the way that the experience fills your mind up so completely that your own thoughts just...fade away. All that needs to happen is for you to let your thoughts fade away, let them drift and wander as you watch and listen, my words seeping into your mind..." Did he even know how boring he was? Debbie wondered. Did he have the tiniest iota of a clue how soporific his little speeches were, or was he so clueless that he mistook her glazed stare in his general direction for actual interest? At this rate, Debbie thought as she made herself more comfortable, she should probably just go ahead and let him try to hypnotize her. If he was as talented at hypnosis as he was at public speaking, she'd probably wind up more awake by the end of his induction than she was at the end of his attempts to persuade her to let him hypnotize her. He'd been at this for...how long? Debbie thought about glancing over at the clock again, but frankly that just seemed like too much effort right about now. Too long, however long it was. It felt like her ability to tell time had melted away somewhere around the fortieth or fiftieth time the charm bracelet had made its circle around his fingers. It was on the triangle right now, she noticed idly. Not that it mattered, really; it wasn't like there was a beginning or an end to it. Every charm was followed by another charm, every color another color, every shape another shape. It kept looping around in that same endless, predictable pattern, always going in the same direction, inexorably. Inescapably. The glittering, twinkling pink light always gave way to the sparkling red light, and that always led to the pure gleam of the quartz, and that led to the amethyst glow of the purple diamond, and that led on to the fathomless black of the obsidian star. It was like an endless, inevitable descent, Debbie thought to herself as she settled into the couch cushions. Like stepping down an endless staircase that led deeper into-- "Debbie?" "Huh?" Debbie blinked, feeling oddly like it was the first time she'd done so in a while. "Oh, um, sorry, I was...just lost in thought, that's all." "No, that's alright," Kurt said. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Your nipples looked like they were hurting a little." Debbie looked down at her bare chest. "Oh, um..." Debbie tried to gather her thoughts back from where they'd scattered. Something felt off-kilter, but she couldn't think what it was. Too much time spent daydreaming, probably. "No, no, they just get all stiff and red like that when I'm horny." "Oh," Kurt responded. He seemed to be a little flushed; probably just embarrassed, Debbie decided. She didn't usually let him see her naked like this, especially not when she was laying across the couch with one leg up and one leg down in a way that displayed her pussy so openly. But she felt so comfortable like this... "So when did you get horny?" he asked. "When I was talking about hypnotizing you?" "I...well, Kurt, the truth is..." Debbie tried to figure out exactly what to say, but it was no good. She was too distracted by the heavy, pleasant ache in her breasts. Her fingers found her way to her nipples and began to tug at them rhythmically, hoping to gain some release. Or relief. Or something. "The truth is, I really don't...um...don't want...mmmmhhh..." Her words trailed off into a wordless moan as she felt a surge of pleasure under her fingertips. "I don't want you to hypnotize me," she said at last. "Why not?" Kurt asked. She waited for him to continue, but that appeared to be all he had to say. Debbie almost wasn't sure what to do with a conversational opening anymore. "Um, because I...because we...I was thinking you might, um." Debbie squirmed on the couch, feeling the moisture between her thighs turn from a sticky dampness into a slow, maddening trickle down her pussylips. She wanted to take one hand and jam it into her snatch, but it felt like they were both stuck to her breasts. "I thought you might make me do... things... Mmmm!" She whimpered in need, her hips gently rolling in anticipation of a non-existent lover. "What sort of things?" Kurt asked, leaning forward in interest. "Don't know, can't...oh, can't fucking think, so..." Debbie could actually think, but only about things she hadn't thought about in a long time. It was always supposed to be the guy who lusted after the girl in mixed-gender apartments, but Debbie had to admit, she'd had some naughty thoughts about Kurt the first couple of months they'd roomed together. Nothing serious, because he'd been dating Sheila at the time and by the time they broke up she was with Austin and by the time that had imploded they'd already been friends for three years and it would have felt weird to start anything, but she'd had thoughts. And now she was having them again. Like that fantasy of walking into the wrong bedroom after a night of partying, not so drunk she was disgusting but tipsy enough that she still didn't notice even when she got inside and took her clothes off, didn't notice until she was in bed with him and they were both nude and he was sleepy but his cock was hard (and she noticed it was nice and long, guys thought women didn't notice when they got a hard-on but how do you not notice something that big straining against the fabric...) Or the one about her coming home unexpectedly and catching him and Sheila doing it on the couch, and instead of being all embarrassed and ashamed they were so fucking horny they couldn't stop and it got Debbie so hot she wound up joining in... Or the one where he hypnotized her without her noticing, got her distracted and naked and horny and whispered suggestions to her while she stared at his charm bracelet with empty, glazed eyes, her fingers working the sensitive flesh of her breasts over and over and over so that she got so deeply aroused that she'd agree to anything, and his words would sink into her dazed and docile subconscious without her even noticing he was talking, let alone what he was saying...but that was an old one, she'd always wanted someone to do that to her as long as she could remember. It was the hottest, sexiest thing she could imagine. Or the one where--"Debbie?" "huh?" Debbie tried to refocus her eyes on Kurt, but they didn't seem like they wanted to make the effort. So she just lay there, her expression still blank and glassy. "um, i, um, yeah. just, um...daydreaming. thazzall." She heard the slurred, muzzy tones in her own voice, but somehow all it did was make her hotter. "what were we talking about again?" "You were offering to give me a blowjob," Kurt said, unzipping his pants, "in exchange for me helping you out with your little problem." He shifted a little and his dick sprang out, every bit as long as Debbie had imagined it. "problem?" Debbie couldn't think of any problem. She couldn't think of anything, not when she was so fucking horny and she couldn't even touch her-- "oh, right," Debbie said, nodding absently. She felt a little trickle of drool at the corner of her mouth, but she wasn't sure if it was from the sight of Kurt's cock or just from when she'd been daydreaming. She slid off the couch and walked over to Kurt on her knees, still unable to stop her fingers from pinching and stroking and tugging at her ample titflesh. "That's right, Debbie," Kurt said as she leaned forward and slid his stiff cock into her mouth. She could taste precum on it already, and she wondered how long it had been like an iron bar in his pants. "Oh, that's right, feels so good, you love the taste, the feel of it in your mouth..." Debbie couldn't respond, but she moaned enthusiastically around his dick. Why had she waited so long to do this? She bobbed her head up and down, occasionally pausing with just the tip in her mouth so that she could wrap her breasts around the shaft and rub. She felt him twitch against her tongue, and knew that he'd be coming soon. Even then, though, he wouldn't stop talking. "Good girl, you love this so much, it feels so good, oh, I...you want to do this all the time, every day..." Debbie tuned him out, the taste of his cock so much more interesting than his words. Still, it could be worse, she thought as she felt him spurt into her mouth. At least he'd stopped talking about hypnotizing her. THE END