Connected Podcast

Tit for Tat: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Sat, 16 May 2026 17:25:00 +0000

Tit for Tat: Part 2.

An Old Porn Stash Reveals Much.

Based on a post by Many Feathers. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

"Okay, now that that's out of the way, how about some fresh drinks, snacks; and some more naughty fun!" Susan said grinning, that aroused horny look showing through in her eyes again as both Jeff s Buxom Becky and my wife laughed.

"I think we've unleashed a monster!" My wife quipped, or rather Susan s Pete certainly has, anyway," she said looking down at his groin. Sure enough, Pete's magnificent tool was standing up about as hard and stiff as I'd ever seen it, though Becky's hand wrapped around him went a long way in doing that. Pete had always been a boob man, perhaps even more than I was. The moment he'd placed his hands on Becky's pendulous tits, his cock had swollen up to full erection in no time. He even had his eyes closed, standing there grinning like the village idiot, fully enjoying himself.

"So; any requests from anyone?" Darlene asked. "Come on boys; don't be shy here, now is not the time. Who knows; this might be the one and only chance you'll have to enjoy anything like this again. At least until next year," she added with a mischievous smile on her face. "So speak up!"

Jeff did; always the first one amongst us to speak up or act so it seemed. "Does ah; titty-fucking count or not count as far as touching goes?" He wondered.

"I think that's within the acceptable parameters," Darlene said easily getting confirmation from the girls. "I take it you'd like to tit-fuck these then?" She asked, holding her tits together in front of him. He was nodding his head like one of those wobble-head dogs in the window of a car.

Darlene laughed. "Okay horny boy; come over here, lay down so I can do a really nice job on you," she told him. Rearranging the air mattresses slightly closer to the fire so that everyone remained warm and comfortable, the three of us laid down side-by-side, the girls taking up position over us. In moments, we all felt the soft, teasing and yes titillating sweetness of three pairs of tits wrapping themselves around our three equally hard stiff cocks again.

As good as it admittedly felt, while Susan lay between my legs, her soft, warm tits fully wrapped around my throbbing cock, the sensation of that was heightened in seeing the other two girls; similarly engaged. Sure; admittedly more of a 'guy' thing perhaps, but they all seemed to be enjoying it every bit as much as the three of us were. The erotic sensuality of the fire's light bathing the room, everyone naked; and now extremely and obviously comfortable in being so in front of one another. And three very gorgeous pairs of tits; sliding up and down so wonderfully around our hard stiff cocks.

Susan spit on my cock, though she didn't need to add much more lubrication to my sensual titty-fuck than that. I was already producing a substantial amount of pre-cum fuck juice myself, which she continually swiped off the tip of my cock, often rubbing and arousing her own nipples with it. In addition to sliding between those two perfect globes, she very often held just one tit in her hand, guiding it; in particular her hard fat little nipple, pressing that against the very end of my cock, almost as though she were trying to fuck the tiny eye-slit of my cock with it. Just seeing her do that was arousing, far more than any feeling I was experiencing perhaps. The visual alone, escalating my overall pleasure.

All around me the pleasurable sighs; moans and groans coming from everyone, the girls included, soon had us all hovering on the edge again, though as usual, it was Big Jeff who was the first one amongst us to announce the arrival of his orgasm.

"Oh man; fuck, here; it; comes!" He cried out, lurching and then groaning deeply. Sure enough, he spurted, the first jettison of his cream hitting my Darlene squarely in the chin, though she then wrapped her beautiful tits around the head of his spurting cock, capturing most of his creamy spunking that way between her tits as she finished jacking him off with them.

"Nice one," she giggled enthusiastically, though looking over at Becky, wondering; grinning as Pete now began making noises as though he was about to erupt soon as well. Which he soon did.

I think we were all wondering and thinking the same thing when the grimace on Pete's face told us he was seconds away from coming now as well. Not having as massive of tits as everyone else, Becky had trouble even wrapping hers around Pete's cock as she continued sliding them up and down his shaft. He grunted, holding still no longer helping to thrust up and down that sweet tit-valley. He groaned deeper, and then thrust up as though coaxing, helping his orgasmic explosion. Surprisingly, it wasn't nearly as much as we'd all anticipated or expected to see. If anything, more normal, more like my own previously, though even then; still substantial. Becky easily caught his creamy outpouring of semen, rubbing her tits against him. Smearing her hard tender nipples in his man juice.

"Hey; it takes a while," he said afterwards almost looking embarrassed. "That was three days worth the last time!" He then added.

"Three days? Hell; I can't go three hours!" Jeff exclaimed jokingly.

"That's true," Bucksy Becky added, laughing along with her husband. "I can't tell you the number of times I've walked into the bathroom at home and found Jeff standing there over the toilet, jacking off!"

"Becky!" Jeff shouted out aghast.

"Well it's true babe; not that I mind, like you damn well know; I enjoy watching you. Just like; you enjoy watching me!"

He blushed, but he was grinning too. "Yeah well;

"So; where's my cream?" Susan asked me, though she had stepped up the titter-bating she'd been giving me.

"Right here," I announced through gritted teeth, and then splurged all over those hot succulent tits of hers.

After cleaning up a bit, which all three girls certainly needed to do, it was now their turn to express their desires on how they'd like to enjoy their own respective orgasms. In getting ready to do that, we instinctively did switch up partners a bit as I moved over to sit by Becky, my Darlene now with Pete, and Susan sitting next to Jeff.

"Okay, what would You like me to do?" I asked her.

She all but purred when I asked her that. "Okay; don't laugh, but this is what I want!" Lying back, she spread herself even more obscenely than she had been, though her legs remained fully extended not yet bent at the knee. "What I sometimes enjoy, and want to feel and enjoy now; is a nice slow, soft clitty jerk-off."

"Oh yeah, I enjoy doing that too on occasion," Susan commented, though she had positioned herself on all fours as though expecting to be fucked. "What I want; is for you to kneel behind me, and just slowly finger-fuck me," she told Jeff. "Nice and slow; but continuous. I'll let you know when I want more fingers, or want it faster; ok?" Good old Jeff seemed more than happy to accommodate her, and began doing so.

Parking myself next to Becky, I leaned on one side, facing her. Hotly; she reached down spreading her pussy apart with her fingers, exposing herself quite vulgarly, which was erotic as hell. The pink glistening furrow of her split was so openly revealed to me as she did this, not to mention the swollen stiff little knob of her fairly large clit.

"Like this?" I asked taking it between my fingers, slowly working them up and down as though actually attempting to jerk her off like working a miniature cock.

"Oh yeah; just like that, perfect in fact," she moaned softly, though releasing her pussy, hands now coming up to capture her tits, fingers already rolling and tweaking her nipples. As asked; I continued to softly and tenderly manipulate her hard little clit, tickling it with my fingers, seeking out more and more of her internal moisture to further pleasure and sensitize herself with.

I didn't even need to look over to see what my wife and Pete were doing. I pretty much knew what she liked; and wanted. Once she was good and horny of course, which she obviously was.

"You're sure? That's what you really want?" Pete asked wanting to make sure he'd understood her perfectly.

"Yep; that's what I want," she informed him saying it again. "I want you to slap my tits; and then alternate slapping my pussy, not too hard until I say otherwise; but not too softly either. Make it tingle-sting a little, really get my pussy juiced up, and then I want you to palm me; press it really hard against me, and grind on me like that until I come," she had told him.

I enjoyed doing that for her myself. It never failed to produce a gallon of girl juice, which I then used to smear around her cunt, and then pressing, squishing it against her as I palmed her, always made the most interestingly erotic sounds and noises in doing that.

"How' my doing?" I asked Becky. "Feel good?"

"Oh yeah; fuck yeah, that's nice; really nice. Just keep working it up and down," she breathed deeply, now pulling on her nipples, stretching them off her chest, releasing, and then grabbing them again, doing so over and over. "I'm getting pretty close," she purred softly. "When I tell you; stick two fingers inside me, and fuck me with them; hard. But then just hold my clit; pinching it a little while you do that until I climax."

"You got it!" I chuckled, already feeling my own cock hardening once more. Just lying here, looking at my friend's hot, wet delicious looking cunt, so juicy and so appetizing, I was sorely tempted to lean over and capture that clit of hers between my lips. But; unfortunately, that wasn't something I knew that would be allowed. Not yet anyway.

Already I could hear the slick juicy sounds coming from my wife. Pete quite enjoying himself, actually being able to half-slap my wife's tits, which she honestly did enjoy feeling. That, and as he was now doing, patting, slapping, and then palming her cunt just as she'd asked him to do. Everyone there could hear the squishy sounds of her pussy, it was that loud, and that obvious.

"Oh fuck that's nasty hot!" Susan cried out unable to contain herself. "God Darlene; you get so fucking juicy don't you?"

"You might could say that," my wife answered back moaning as she did so. "Maybe tomorrow; if you'd like, you can check it out for yourself."

Jeff groaned, and then much to everyone's surprise, came all over Susan's ass. "Sorry; I couldn't help it," he said sheepishly. "But just hearing that; I mean, fuck."

"Men!" Becky chortled. "Mention a little girl on girl action, and they become putty in your hands; that or sperm on your ass, either one." Her tone quickly changed however after having said that. "Okay now baby; two fingers, hard and deep; make me fucking come!"

My Darlene was already crying out in the midst of her own orgasmic release, humping herself against Pete's hand, that squishy sounding pussy-pummeling he was giving my wife even louder now as she began squirting, adding to it. "Holy shit that's hot seeing that!" He exclaimed above the cries of her pleasure. I was a bit focused myself though at the moment as Becky too let out a mewled cry of release, her hands immediately coming down to take over her own clit, now frigging it furiously. "Fuck my cunt; fuck it! Fuck it! Fuck it David; fuck it!"

Susan too had collapsed, reaching back and playfully massaging in Jeff's third spunking of the evening into her own ass. She sighed contentedly in doing so; as we all did.

Late; and with all of us satisfied and totally exhausted, we made up the beds, threw a bit more wood on the fire to see us through most of the night, and collapsed into our beds together. I spooned my wife from behind, surprised to find I was still partially erect.

"Slip inside me," she said sounding half asleep. "Fuck me to sleep baby; fuck me to dream land."

It was cold when I woke up. Not unbearably so; but it was obvious that the fire had gone out towards morning. There would no doubt be a few still burning embers remaining, which would make starting a new one easier to do. My Darlene stirred beneath me, slowly coming awake herself, a reminder of the night before as I felt my now very flaccid cock resting against her warm beautiful ass. Still snuggled up inside the sleeping bag together I was perfectly content to remain so; but I knew Darlene. Once awake, she'd have to pee, and then that would be that.

I vaguely remembered having my cock inside her as we fell asleep; fucking her, but not towards orgasm. We'd done that often before, just connected, barely even moving when sleep claimed us both. That however, usually led to a nice early morning fuck, basically taking up where we'd left off the night before. Unfortunately like I said; it was cold, and now that My Darlene was indeed awake, she quite naturally had to pee.

"You need to get another fire going," she informed me only then sitting up. I took delight in the hard crinkle of her sweet nipples, each one hard as rocks; though I knew that wasn't from any amorous inclinations; not yet anyway. Simply the cold. Even so, it was nice sitting there staring at my own wife's hard firm titties. "And try not to be too noisy while doing it; everyone else is still asleep," she now added finally slipping out of the bag, grabbing her robe so she'd have something to wear when she went outside to pee.

"Too late; I'm awake now too," Becky said likewise crawling out of her bag, thumping on Jeff waking him as she climbed out. "Wake up baby; see if you can help David get another warm fire going. We'll start working on coffee and breakfast after that."

Jeff groaned, but soon slid out of his bed and began helping me stack some additional kindling in the fireplace, along with a couple of smaller dry logs in order to get a nice start on it before adding the heavier, longer lasting logs into the fire.

"Damn!" Jeff suddenly exclaimed loud enough that I almost cautioned him to be quiet as Pete and Susan hadn't as yet gotten up. I needn't have bothered, they had; just not in quite the way I was expecting. Susan had climbed on top of Pete's cock, and even then was slowly easing herself down over his once again hard stiff shaft.

"Damn is right!" I then added looking on as she slowly began swallowing that monster up.

"Morning guys," she beamed brightly. "Don't mind us; I just have to start out my day with this cock inside me," she grinned, and then slowly began fucking him while Jeff and I stood there with idiotic smiles on our faces, watching them.

"Coffee will be; oh hell, fuck that!" Becky said walking over. Now it was the three of us standing there looking on. "I can't even imagine trying to take that thing myself!" She then said, though I chuckled quietly, her hand already down between her legs as though imagining it being inside there.

I hadn't even heard my own wife coming up from behind me, until she wrapped the robe she had on around the two of us, pressing her now very warm tits against my back, her hands coming around to grasp my sti

Tit for Tat: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Fri, 15 May 2026 17:24:00 +0000

Tit for Tat: Part 1.

Three couples head off for a wild weekend together.

Based on a post by Many Feathers. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

It was the second year that the six of us had come up here to spend a long weekend together. Jeff and his wife Becky, Bucksy Becky, a tall very buxom brunette.

Then there s Pete, and "Repeat", as we called her, Susan; because she looked more like his sister than his wife, each of them with dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes, and short in stature at not even five and a half feet, though again Susan too had fairly large tits. Though not as large as my wife's were, more noticeable because of her short size perhaps, almost looking top heavy.

And then there was my wife Darlene and myself. Personally, I thought my fiery little redhead was the most attractive of the lot, though again; most likely, I was just prejudiced in that regard. But the thing I loved so much about Darlene was her total lack of inhibitions, and carefree attitude about life and love. That; and her almost too daring nature, especially when it came to matters of sexual persuasion. But once again; it was just another aspect about her personality that kept life extremely interesting, especially for me.

David, dear; You know what day tomorrow is? Darlene said, as we turned off the highway to go down a gravel township road and the old family hunting cabin.

Uh, Saturday? I stated.

True, but more significantly, it s national nude day! Darlene winked. I m serving notice that I fully intend to hike nude, tomorrow. Please plan on joining my observance. You know it ll be worth your effort.

But we have guests. Darlene?

Leave that to me. She dismissed my objections. When the time comes for a hike, I plan to have the issue resolved. Probably a lot sooner.

The old cabin we were staying in had been in the family for years, an old hunting cabin. It had a well with a hand pump. I d installed some solar panels for small appliances, radios, phone charging, and a few LED lights.

The old icebox had big ice blocks, which we kept operational while away, so that perishable foods could last a weekend, even in cloudy conditions.

But we heated the cabin with the big fireplace. It was northern Minnesota, so even summer nights got chilly. The cabin s purpose and intent had never been one of luxury or spaciousness, even though for an old cabin like it was, even then it was still pretty big. Inside, it was basically just one gigantic room. A fairly large fireplace filled one wall, an open area in front of it. Four Plywood double bunks accommodated air mattresses. Plenty large enough to sleep the three couples comfortably together, Two bunks on each side of the big stone fireplace. There was seriously no real privacy, though; which had limited everyone's libedos to some extent, as we'd all been forced to put up with the lack of sexual activities, the last time we'd been up here together. Though Darlene and I had snuck off once or twice, to fool around out in the forest, as we were pretty sure the rest of them had done as well, a time or two.

There was a small kitchen area and a table just large enough to seat the six of us together, where we very often played cards late into the evening. Lighting was all by lantern or candlelight. We did most of the cooking outside on the porch, utilizing the barbeques or Dutch ovens we'd brought along with us. It was, needless to say, rustic in every aspect. But the scenery, serenity and quietness of the mountain area where the cabin was, made the trip up here well worth it.

We'd already finished up with dinner, gotten a nice warm fire going as even the nights during the summer time could get pretty cool in the mountains. Darlene had already made up a batch of Margaritas for us to sit down and enjoy together which was usually the case. Later on cards perhaps; again, as usual.

We'd already managed to kill off one pitcher of margaritas as Darlene began making another when Bucksy Becky asked me a question.

"So David; how many years now has it been that the three of you've been coming up here anyway?"

Jeff, Pete and I had been friends for years, growing up as kids in the same old neighborhood in fact. Years later, old enough to hunt, we'd started out coming up here with dad, and then later just by ourselves. When the idea and concept of hunting didn't appeal to any of us any more, we'd continued our yearly excursions up here even then for several years. Up until we'd all started getting married. And then hadn't done so for several years. Now; here we were again, just like in the old days; but now with our respective wives in tow.

As we started in on the second pitcher of margaritas, and with everyone starting to feel their oats at this point, it wasn't too unexpected when Darlene brought up a rather embarrassing question.

"So tell me honey; if you and your friends no longer came up here to go hunting, what did you do? Sit around and jerk off?"

Unknowingly, she had hit the nail on the head so to speak. Early on when we'd been young, much younger, we'd actually done just that. And by the look in each one of our respective faces when she mentioned that, she knew; as did the other wives, she had inadvertently stumbled onto something.

"You did didn't you! The three of you; sitting around, watching one another jerk yourselves off! Oh my god!" She laughed, as did the other wives, all teasing and jabbing at us now with their personal questions.

In an effort to deflect part of that perhaps, though it was already too late to sit here and deny any of it, Pete did remember something and then curiously scrambled over to check out our old stash, wondering if it was still even there. Something I myself had completely forgotten about at this point.

"You think your dad ever discovered our stash of Playboys?" he asked. I laughed, curious now myself.

"I don't know; check it out, see if they're actually still there!"

Long ago, we had in fact stashed a collection of old dog-earned Playboys, and then later, one or two really pornographic magazines up in the rafters. A portion of the ceiling area had been given a false shelf of sorts where dad sometimes stored things. It was there we had put up yet another false front in front of that, tacked down so we could still get at it easily enough, but where we had long ago placed our "Jerk off" material as we'd called it. Using the bench seat to stand on from the table, Pete easily pulled himself up into that old section.

"Careful Pete! I don't want you hurting yourself up there," Susan warned. "I can just see us having to rush you to the hospital from falling and breaking your neck; or worse."

"Yeah, like his hard cock if he actually finds those porn mags," Jeff quipped. Even I laughed at that; it had been Pete who'd been the first one brave enough between the three of us to actually whip his out and start whacking it off the first time we discovered what had then been dad's collection of magazines. We'd simply added to it after that with the far more dirty, filthy porn magazines we'd brought along.

"Very funny," we heard Pete calling down as he rummaged around in the old creaky loft area looking for the false boards we'd nailed over one section of the ceiling. "Ah; found it!" he called out seconds later, and then using his knife to pry that section away, laughed out loud. "Oh my god! They're still up here!"

"Bring them down; I want to see what the three of you used to look at when you jerked off," my wife said calling up to him. "And probably still do," she then said turning to the other girls, likewise making them laugh.

Almost gingerly he handed four well-worn magazines down to my wife, lowering himself down seconds afterwards. By the time he had, Darlene had already taken them over to the table spreading them all out for us to look at. "This one might actually be worth some money," Bucksy Becky said thumbing through the really old Playboy.

"I doubt it," I told her. The covers really torn for one thing, and I happened to remember, we; ah; well, the three of us sort of destroyed the centerfold as I recall, and ended up burning it."

"Why'd you do that?" Susan asked curiously. "Was she ugly or something?"

Darlene burst out laughing. "Oh honey; I doubt that. Remember now, they sort of admitted to sitting around jerking off looking at these, try and picture it unless I miss my guess; the three of them standing there mostly likely squirting their white sticky stuff all over the centerfold. Back then; boys did that when they didn't have anyone else to squirt it on," she continued chuckling. Though once again, my wife had nailed that one too. I could still clearly remember the day we had done that, and by the embarrassed looks on Jeff and Pete's faces, they could too.

"I believe you're right Darlene, look at this one, some of the pages are actually stuck together!" Bucksy Becky exclaimed letting out a squeal of feigned disgust as she held it up trying to shake the pages apart. "God, how much cum did you guys squirt on this one anyway?" She continued to laugh poking fun at her husband Big Jeff, as well as Pete and myself.

"A lot," I openly admitted. That was the first illegal X-rated porn magazine any of us had ever seen before. Needless to say, it became the primary one we used to look at, while jerking off to. First time any of us had actually seen anything where the men and women were really doing it. Where you could actually see that they were."

"Wow, no shit! Look at this one!" Bucksy Becky suddenly exclaimed, showing everyone the other X-rated magazine she held in her hand. One of the larger old black and white photos actually showed a guy standing there in the throes of climax. The camera had caught the precise moment he'd shot a ribbon of semen. It showed a long lengthy rope of it shooting off into the air, the look of orgasmic joy etched in his face, caught forever in time. "That's fucking hot!" She then added surprising everyone. And almost as one, we all turned looking at Jeff, his face beet red, though grinning.

"Yeah, she likes it when I do that; like's ah; well you know, seeing me squirt."

"Ditto that!" My wife said joining in. I Love seeing guys squirt, something very sexy; very provocative about seeing that."

I had no idea where any of this was going of course, but I was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable. Not because of what was being said, but because I was actually getting horny standing here listening to it.

"You know; maybe we should change the subject and play a game or something?" I suggested. Once again, my wife knowing full well of my sudden discomfort pounced on it.

"Why is that honey? Getting a little too horny are we?"

I just smile at her and nodded my head. No sense trying to hide the fact that I was, or that the air suddenly seemed a little sexually charged.

"Yeah, maybe we should play a game," Darlene said turning towards the other two girls. She then walked over towards them, drawing them off to one side, whispering.

"Ah oh; I said looking at my friends. "Something tells me, we're not in Kansas anymore."

That too had been a running joke amongst the three of us. Having grown up in Kansas City, whenever we embarked on some adventure, or did something we were very likely to regret later, we had a tendency to say that.

When I saw Susan suddenly look over towards where the three of us were standing, and actually blushing a bit; though nodding her head yes to whatever, I knew then; we were in trouble. If my wife could convince shy little Susan to go along with whatever she had in mind, then that didn't bode well for the three of us. They soon parted, coming back towards us, evil wicked smiles on each of their faces.

"Okay; what?" I simply had to ask. "I know that look Darlene; what are you up to now?"

"Like you suggested, a little game, something to pass the time, make things sort of interesting, for all of us."

"What; kind; of; a; game?" I said slowly, worriedly. Like I said, I knew my own wife.

"Let's call it; tit, for tat."

"Tit for what?" Pete asked.

"Boob's for cocks then," if you prefer. "Tits for tat; or rather that; them," she said pointing at our lower extremities.

"You're kidding right?" Jeff asked anxiously; though more hopefully perhaps as his voice had gone up an octave upon asking that.

"Girls?" Darlene said turning towards them. "Let's show them that we're serious here," and with that, all three suddenly reached down pulling off the tee shirts they were wearing. Now true; they all had bra's on. No worse than the bikinis we'd all seen them wearing before; but there was something about bras in general, especially when they were actually threatening, or rather promising; to show you more.

"You're; you're serious!" I exclaimed realizing that my wife was anyway, though I still wasn't sure about the other two.

"Very," she challenged back. "And as a sign of good-faith here," she now stood reaching behind her back, undoing the clasp on her bra, which I did think surprised Susan a little when she did that. She allowed it to fall away from her shoulders, though still managing to catch it against herself, not quite revealing her magnificent tits. "Well? Jeff? Pete? You don't count David; you've already seen my tits. But if they want to, then one of them at least, has to show us some cock here."

"Oh for heaven's sake's Jeff, do it; pull your pants down," his wife challenged him. "You know how much of an exhibitionist you truly are; so now's your chance. Especially if you really want to see Darlene's tits, like you're always telling me about how much you'd like to," she said startling everyone including Darlene, who now smiled looking directly at him.

"Well? Tit for tat. Last chance; now or never!" She said staring at him directly. And then Jeff began unbuckling his pants, though turning towards the two of us.

"Don't look at me!" He exclaimed. "This might be a once in a life-time opportunity here, and if you guys think I'm going to pass this up; you're crazy!"

Good old Jeff. He always could be counted on to be the first amongst us to do something like this, but in doing so; he also knew, the two of us would soon follow. Before I knew it, both Pete and I were now undoing our pants. All three of us at the point of dropping trow, though now it was up to the other two girls to get to the same point my wife was; tits free.

To my surprise, both Susan and Bucksy Becky had reached back around themselves, like

The Mail-order Space Bride

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Thu, 14 May 2026 15:36:00 +0000

The Mail-order Space Bride.

He had to wait five years for her.

Based on a post by Farmer jill. Listen to the Podcast at My First Time.

Forward: This story is about a first time, two virgins no less. However, the setting is in a dystopian future. If sci-fi is not your thing, you might still like this. Be brave.

Many are fascinated by the concept of the "mail order bride." It still occurs today, but with instant communications, etc., it is not as interesting or romantic as back in the "good old days" of the American Wild West. Maybe this will happen again one day in the future, who knows?

Marco’s Day of Choosing

Marco Mendes finished climbing until he reached the top of the hill. It wasn't a mountain or even a very tall hill, those were for the rich. He wanted one last look around at his part of the Rio-Paulo Metropolitan Area before he left. Colloquially known as Rio Paolo or Super Favela. Marco had been told that Rio Paolo had over 150 million inhabitants. Rio Paolo is a city in what used to be the old country of Brazil. Not that long ago, Brazil had that many people in the whole country. He couldn't confirm this because there was no longer access to the internet, nor were there things called "encyclopedias." The old timers talked about being able to "google" anything on the internet, but that was before the changes. Now only the rich could "google" things if that even still existed. Books didn't exist at all. Everything was on screens, and the screens only showed what was allowed by the ‘Corporate Council’.

Since the changes what could you find out? The screens everywhere gave you the weather, news, and, of course, sports. Yet you couldn't ask the screens questions, and everyone knew you couldn't always trust what was on the screens. You could trust the weather and the sports, but the news not at all. However, Marco was about to leave the Rio Paolo, and Earth behind for Orion 6A. Rumor had it that once he boarded the spaceship he would get to use the internet. Marco would believe it, and all the other stories; when he saw it.

Yet Marco had to give it a try. He looked down at the Super Favela and all its misery. In centuries past, they were called shanty towns. But Super Favela was a massive city of shacks.

They didn't starve, but the food was bland and of questionable origin. They had homes, but they were small and uncomfortable, especially when it rained. They had each other, but what did that mean?

Dreams of Marriage.

A family of your own seemed like an eternity away. It was a process of 10 years, to apply for a wife! Maybe you wouldn't get approval.

Marco wasn't interested in casual sex. He wanted a family, and that would take 11 years here in the Rio Paulo or anywhere on Earth. That was only if it was approved and he survived. Most of the jobs for men like him were dangerous, especially at first. No one seemed to care if young men died.

Tomorrow was his 18th birthday. The official Day of Choosing a vocation. Marco had already chosen last week. The options were pretty limited, but you had to take one, or they picked for you. Marco had heard some places on Earth there was no choice, you were just assigned something. Other places used an aptitude test like the one Marco had taken. Marco had done the aptitude test at age 16, like everyone else. He was not selected for "streaming.' Marco was not going to be an athlete, nor was he smart enough for university, that's where the streaming took you. Oh, and of course, if you were really good-looking, you were also "streamed." Streamlined right into someone, or multiple someones’ bed. Yet that mostly happened to the girls. A guy had to be a real stunning hunk to be streamed; and Marco was not.

Then there was the security force. You didn't get to choose them, they chose you; and then you left old Brazil. You would be trained and stationed somewhere else to keep other people in line. Just like to the cold-hearted bastards who patrolled the Rio Paolo. They rotated them through, frequently; 6 months to a year, and another group arrived. You could tell they were different because their English would have a different accent than yours and the last bunch.

Like most boys in Rio Paolo, Marco wanted to play football (Americans used to call it soccer.) he had no interest in university, even if he made the grades. Marco wasn't that great at school, nor football.

What were the choices open to Marco? He could stay in Rio Paolo, and be chosen for a job. That job could be anything from a factory worker to a ditch digger. Low pay, no hope for advancement, and a ten-year wait to apply to get married. He could go to the Amazon and work on a mine or farm, but the only difference with that would be the location. Hard labor, high chance of injury. Yes, there were softer jobs, but first you had to pass through the hard ones.

Then there were the off-world options. The jobs were dangerous, and you would never see Earth again. However, the pay was high, the benefits were good, and you could order a bride after only 5 years. No applying for marriage, nope, you just ordered a bride, and when she arrived, you were married. What would you know about your mail-order bride? You would see her picture and where she was born. You also knew she was 18 years old. That was an option for women when it was their "Day of Choosing." The bride also would show up without the "shot." Every woman from puberty was given the "shot." It prevented pregnancy and was re-administered every year. The government would not tolerate pregnancy among the unmarried.

The problem was the effect of the shot was cumulative. If Marco stayed on Earth and had to wait the ten years to request a marriage to an agreeable woman. She would probably be about the same age as you. No 18-year-old brides on Earth. The woman would have had at least 15 years of shots by the age of 28, and the chance of conception was rare for at least 2 years. You are allowed a six-year window to have children, so the timeline was tight. Few couples had two children, many only one, and too often there were none. Yet those were the rules. Trying to circumvent or worse, fight them was not an option. The cold-hearted bastards would show up, and you would never be seen again.

How did Marco know all of this? The old timers of course; told their tales. Much of it Marco believed to be true. Then there was the communication from cousins and friends who had left after the day of choosing. They sent back tales of their new lives. The people who stayed in the same area also told their tales of work and lives since choosing. Finally, there was what you saw with your own eyes. People who tried to move in together and therefore be illegally married who were taken away. People who spoke out about the changes; just disappeared, without a trace. Sometimes, if you were up late at night, you could see the armored vehicles come and disappear someone. Actions of the Corporate Council. No trial, no conviction.

Once, Marco's family had a neighbor man who moved the woman he wanted to marry, into his house, without waiting 10 years or asking permission. Permission would never have been granted, and they only lived together for 10 days. Marco was up early on day 11,and he saw the couple taken away. The cold-hearted security bastards of the Corporate Council showed how they earned the reputation that morning. Marco watched the couple be beaten as they were dragged into the vehicle. There was blood on the ground, and everyone tried to ignore it, until the rain washed it away days later.

Marco had opted for off-world. He had chosen working for Impact Mining. They were an off-world conglomerate that owned all the mining rights to Orion 6A. Marco would learn the people who lived there, called the planet Eldorado. He would learn all about Eldorado, and a great many other things; once on the spaceship.

Marco took one more look around at Rio Paolo. The misery was oppressive. 150 million people going through the motions of living. Marco didn't know how many rich people lived in RP. Their lives were definitely different, and the 150 million knew it! On the day of choosing, you couldn't get a position cleaning, or cooking, or what have you, for those rich. Later you were recruited to those positions, once you had served your time in your job of "choosing." There actually was a fair amount of opportunity to change jobs at that time, but they were still low-paying, and had no future.

Marco shook his head and then went back home. His parents were having the traditional "Day of Choosing" party for him. Marco's would be more poignant because he was going away forever. It was a somber affair and Marco said his goodbyes. He would be gone very early in the morning to catch the shuttle to the moon and his spaceship.

Space Travel, Internet, And History.

The rumors about the internet would turn out to be true! Marco spent much of his time in transit to Eldorado learning how much he didn't know. The trip would take three months, and it was notable for the food and the internet. Marco would not believe the variety and the taste of the food! It was all 'cooked' not just bland reheated packages. When he entered that ship it was a revelation to Marco, and he was told it would get better on Eldorado.

The internet, or more precisely, Marco learned, the ship's computer network had a huge 'database' of information for Marco to absorb. Of course, Marco didn't have access to everything, but he did have access to more than he could imagine. Marco learned about the 'Changes' and how that transformed the world, including his homeland of Brazil. It was a time of war, chaos, and fear. The resulting political consolidation by the world's large corporations and simultaneous population boom led to the "Day of Choosing" and the Metropolitan Areas. The population needed to be contained, otherwise it would overrun the farmland required to feed it.

No one seemed to know what sparked the trouble that resulted in the Changes. The consensus was that the pressure from overpopulation, unfair distribution of wealth between nations, and government measures to stop yet another plague; boiled over. Wars and civil wars erupted all over the Earth. Genocides occurred, as well as plenty of destruction. Much of Africa and Asia was a bloodbath. Europe's unity shattered. North and South America saw a series of coups, and counter-coups, as well as war. When the dust cleared, five years later, the world was now run by the corporations; the Corporate Council by name. Lead by the arms industry, they consolidated power by monopolizing the control of weapons, food, and fuel. The other corporations gladly joined them and after a few more years their power was unmatched in human history.

The population of the Earth was pushed into "metropolitan areas" based on the old distribution of population. The areas were shrunk though and the areas outside them were for commodity extraction or agriculture. There also were large swaths of land set aside as reserves to offset the climate changes. Travel was highly restricted between the areas and that was mostly by air. The roads and rail lines that were kept were for the movement of materials. The other roads, small towns and cities were destroyed or abandoned to return them to nature.

Eldorado Hardships

When Marco arrived at Eldorado he didn't have anymore time to think about what he learned, as he was assigned the most dangerous job on the planet. It was the job of capturing mineral laden meteors as they approached the planet. If you could grab them before they entered the atmosphere the mineral payload was better. The trick was not being smashed to bits by the meteors or having the meteor's breach your ships integrity and dying of asphyxiation. This was normal and Marco knew he would spend a year in this or a similar job. Over a third of those assigned would be killed and another third injured in someway. No one even called him Marco, he was just J-9870112, his company ID number. Yet when the year was up, Marco went to work in the refinery and his life changed. He now was Marco. Out of the temporary barracks into the permanent apartments. He made friends, worked hard, and waited.

Communication back to Earth was possible but not easy. Only the rich or the company could get instant communication back to Earth. The rest of the people had to send mail. You could buy a video cube, record yourself, and your family could watch it. You could write or type an actual letter on paper and put it in an envelope. The bottom line is that it has to be a physical object that can be loaded on the cargo ship. There is plenty of room for a letter on those massive ships. They come here mostly empty, mostly things that could not be made on Eldorado. Then the ships would leave full of processed ore. A ship arrived every 3 months.

Placing an order for a woman.

Impact was a good company to work for. They let Marco put in his request for a mail order bride on the cargo ship 3 months early. Some companies made you wait the full 5 years before you could put in your request. This way she would come 3 months earlier, a real bonus. There was plenty of joking about the idea of a 'mail order bride." Marco researched it on the computer, and it came from 19th century America on Earth. From what he read, he was not surprised that it happened. Men get lonely out on the frontier. Men also got in way more trouble the greater the ratio of men to available women. Eldorado didn't have enough of a population base to produce enough eligible surplus women. There was also no "Day of Choosing" on Eldorado. People could freely choose what to work at and whom to marry, when they felt like it. There were no age restrictions and the "shot" was voluntary.

Marco had looked through the catalogues of women for a month before finding the girl he wanted. He didn't know what it was about her, that struck him. But he knew he wanted her from the moment he saw her. Her name was Angela Stemple, and she was born in a place called Bridgewater in the Eastern Seaboard Metropolitan Area. He researched it, and the people there call it the BBA, short for the Big Big Apple. The BBA, of course had the world's capital in it, New York City. Where else would the corporations want the headquarters?

From what Marco could see in the picture, Angela was not very tall but evenly proportioned. He printed off a picture of her for his wall at home and his workplace at the refinery. Marco's mail order spent 3 months in transit to Earth and his mail order bride spent 3 months traveling to Eldorado. All Marco thought about besides being safe at work, was Angela; for those 6 months. He dreamed of her and talked to his friends about her. His married friends told him about their mail-order bride experience. His friends, awaiting their own bride, commiserated on the wait. It would all be worth it, all his friends said.

The Group Wedding Event

The day before the cargo ship arrived, Impact started the preparations for the bride's arrival. The best hotel in Barkerville, (Joe Baker was the name of a former CEO.) was reserved in its entirety for the event. The meeting of brides would occur in the grand ballroom. There would also be the wedding ceremony. A banquet would then be held in the revolving restaurant on top of the hotel. Finally, the best fifty rooms would be given to the 50 newlywed couples, for the night. The actual bridal suit would be given to one lucky couple in a draw at the banquet. Impact also gave all of their newly-married workers the week off with pay, to settle in with their new wives.

Marco finished his shift the next day at four. He went home and showered, shaved, and put on his new suit. He was so nervous he could hardly button his shirt up. He then went to the hotel, arriving at 5:30. Most of the other future husbands were already there, helping themselves to some ‘liquid courage’ at the free bar. Marco opted for water. He seldom drank alcohol. To him, it just led to trouble. On Eldorado most of the miners who arrived, spent their first few years drinking and whoring. Not Marco, for one thing, he was a virgin, and the second thing was he dreamed of being 'middle class.'

Marco had learned about this on the internet and most the people on Eldorado would be considered middle class. They owned their own homes, could do the job they wanted, and could have kids who would never have a Day of Choosing. Marco had been saving all of his paychecks to buy a house for his mail-order bride. Others would spend years in the company apartments because they partied their money away. Marco didn't regret his decision to remain a virgin, he had been raised Catholic; and the prostitutes in Barkerville were expensive. Marco also wanted his first time with Angela to be extra special.

Angela, meanwhile; was just getting into the coach bus to take her to the hotel. She had spent the last four hours after getting off the cargo ship at the spa. Impact paid for all of the mail order brides to get the full package. Next door to the spa was a high-end ladies clothing store. Angela was wearing a beautiful new dress from the store, complete with new lingerie underneath. Impact paid for that as well. Angela felt like Cinderella going to the ball.

Marco and the other men were getting anxious. Some were drinking too much out of nervousness. Some were telling jokes with their friends, to kill the time. Marco was just standing alone, drinking some water, thinking about Angela.

Marco was startled when it was announced that the brides had arrived. All of the men eagerly turned toward the large double doors of the hall. Music started playing in the background. Of course it was 'here comes the bride." Two Impact men moved toward the doors and opened them at the same time. First in line was the marriage commissioner, but no one looked twice at him. All eyes were on the lovely ladies behind him. The women followed the commissioner into the room, nervously trying to find their groom.

Angela was looking at the group of men, but could not find Marco. She had posted his picture on the wall in her cabin on the ship and was positive she would recognize him. She started to worry he was not there. Something bad had happened while she was in transit. All kinds of dark thoughts filled her mind. This did happen sometimes. Meanwhile Marco had spotted Angela. She was even more beautiful in real life, than her picture. Since Marco was not with the main group, she still couldn't see him and started to panic.

Marco moved forward, toward Angela, and then she saw him. He looked like a dream come true. She was captivated. She was so enthralled with Marco she couldn't move, but soon he was before her. Marco stopped just outside of her personal space. He was drinking her in, and she was doing the same with him.

"I am pleased to finally meet you Angela, you are better in person, than in my dreams."

Angela could barely hear his words; her heart was beating so loudly. She knew he had said something, and tried to find her voice,

"Marco."

That was all she could get out. Then Marco held out his hand for her, and she took it in her own.

"May I kiss you Angela?"

Angela couldn't form words, so she simply nodded, ‘yes.’

Marco gently pulled on her hand and Angela moved forward her face looking upward at the taller man. Marco slowly brought his mouth down on hers. Her lips were so soft as he kissed her. He started to pull back but then went in for another kiss. Angela couldn't believe she was finally kissing a man who wasn't related to her. She wanted more and used her free hand to pull Marco's head closer. Their tongues both had the same idea at the same time and met in the middle of the kiss.

Like many of the couples Marco and Angela were oblivious to everything and everyone but th

An Unexpected Match: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Wed, 13 May 2026 17:20:00 +0000

An Unexpected Match: Part 2

Taking It To The Bedroom

By Dansilver. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Martin swallowed hard and gazed at Lori as she flashed a wicked grin at him.

He wondered how he had got here. What had led him from fostering a fantasy which he had no inclination was ever going to come to fruition, to the pleasure filled evening which had, in Lori's estimation, only just begun.

Part of him could not wait to take things further. To plumb the hidden depths of Lori's sexuality. He was already intoxicated by her wantonness, by the dirty side to this pristine well ordered woman who he had enjoyed getting to know at their tennis classes over the weeks. But bubbling underneath this desire to explore further was a persistent insecurity. Martin's sexual experience and repertoire were extremely limited. Previous to her passing he had been faithful to his wife Jenny for the entirety of their 26 years of marriage. However, despite the usual torrid beginning to a relationship, their lovemaking had eventually become predictable and comfortable. He already knew that Lori was so much more adventurous and he was concerned about his perceived limitations, especially now he had already come.

Lori was sitting, half naked on the couch in front of him, her petite breasts exposed to his gaze, her nipples standing erect. In the last 15 minutes he had felt a raw passion awaken that he had never experienced with his wife. A door which had remained shut for years was now open, and Lori was inviting him to walk further through it. Yet Martin was hesitant. Hesitant because of his lack of experience - would it be obvious to Lori? Would she judge him negatively for it?

And hesitant because he honestly didn't know whether he the sexual stamina that he had in his youth. He was over 50 now and even though he sometimes would masturbate at night to bring sleep to him, he didn't know whether he could get hard again any time soon. His orgasm, which had overwhelmed him whilst his cock was in Lori's warm mouth, had been powerful but now, even though his heart was still beating fast, his cock drooped against his leg, a string of his come still seeping out and pooling on his thigh.

"So, what do you think old man? Got any more where that came from?" Lori said, her eyes glancing down at the puddle of semen on his leg.

"Sure.." Martin stuttered. "But it might take me a while to recover..."

His face flushed red and a mixture of excitement and embarrassment flowed through him.

Lori giggled. "Don't worry - it will be 'new balls' in no time at all."

Martin chuckled at the joke which had put him more at ease.

"Shall we go to the bedroom? There's more space than on this couch which will give us a few more options." Lori grinned.

"Sure. Let's do it." Martin said, committing himself in faith that his ageing body wouldn't let him down. The alternative was to make a lame excuse to leave - something he knew he would end up regretting for a very long time.

Lori stood up, took him by the hand and led him upstairs and through an oak doorway into her room. As Martin glanced around he noticed that it followed the same neat, ordered and clean style that the rest of Lori's house had. In the centre of the room was a large, king sized bed decked in pure white linen sheets. Thirty minutes ago Martin would have surmised that it perfectly reflected Lori's personality - but he now knew that underneath the demure, controlled exterior was a wild, passionate and raw spirit which was only too eager to emerge.

Lori sat on the bed, her tennis skirt and panties still in place, but otherwise naked. Martin sat alongside, facing her, fully unclothed and feeling somewhat exposed and vulnerable during this interlude.

"Ok, I have an idea." Lori smiled. "You said you wished you had been a fly on the wall when I was playing with myself. And right now I'm feeling incredibly horny, I have to tell you. So....why don't you pretend you're that fly and see how long it takes you to come buzzing over here and join me?

Martin gulped. Did she mean what he thought she meant? Even the slightest inkling of what Lori was suggesting sent a pulse of life through his previously dormant cock. It didn't take long before the confirmation came.

Lori reached over and opened the oak drawer of her bedside cabinet, pulling out a sleek plum coloured vibrator which was slightly curved with a silver band around the middle. She threw herself back on the bed, her head resting against a white linen pillow and drew her knees up and apart, displaying her white tennis panties which were now visibly stained with her juices from their earlier passion. A new darker patch had begun to form due to her current excited state.

Lori pressed the white button underneath the silver band and a low buzzing sound began to be heard from her toy. She pressed the vibrating wand against her pussy and immediately let out a gasp of pleasure as Martin stared in awe at the scene before him.

Lori's eyes, full of fire, were fixed on Martin's face as he gazed, transfixed at this vision of seeming innocence and wantonness combined. In over a quarter of a century he had never seen his wife like this, yet he was fulfilling his fantasy with Lori in less than an hour in her home.

He felt his cock begin to stir back to life.

The sensations emanating from Lori's pussy and spreading throughout her body were already clearly getting the better of her. Her mouth was now opened wide and groans were sounding from the back of her throat as the vibrator did its work. Lori's eyes however, remained firmly fixed on Martin, his own mouth open in awe of the sight before him. Every so often they would move from Martin's eyes and drop down to his groin where his cock was now extending and stiffening by the second. This sight clearly was contributing to her growing excitement.

Suddenly, and without warning Lori yanked back the thin material of her panties, revealing her swollen and glistening crimson pussy lips. As she did so she plunged the purple wand into her soft folds of flesh, her lips parting and enveloping the toy which Martin also noticed had increased in its frequency and intensity. He also noticed Lori's slick wetness begin to drip down the vibrator as she urgently thrust it deep into her flesh cunt.

The sight of all of this was overwhelming for Martin. He felt his heart beating hard in his chest but more than that his attention was drawn to his now fully swollen cock. It had been resurrected and now stood to attention against his stomach like a soldier ready for duty.

He was torn. Part of him wanted to continue to watch this incredibly sexual woman bring herself to a climax with her device. But the urge to join her and feel his own flesh merge with hers was even greater. He moved his body the short distance across to her and grabbed the waistband of her tennis skirt, pulling it over her legs as she cooperatively raised her ass to allow it to come down. The built in panties came off with it, leaving Lori laying naked on her bed, her legs parted and the vibrator still pulsating inside her.

Martin grabbed Lori's right hand gently moving the toy out of her pussy lips, noticing the slick squelch of liquid pleasure and suction as she did so. But he wasn't intending to leave her unattended for long. His hands reached round and grabbed Lori's firm ass cheeks pulling them up towards him as his face sunk deep into her groin. The scent of her sex was immediately intoxicating to him, the musky odour overpowering and stimulating him at the same time. He felt like he was in heaven.

Martin's mouth moved toward the soft flesh of Lori's pussy. His tongue tasted her delicious juices which were flowing out of her incredibly liberally, at least as far as Martin's limited experience had taught him. He lapped the sweet liquid up and then his tongue moved up to the hard button at the top of Lori's lips which he knew was the wellspring of her pleasure.

As his tongue began to flick over her clit Martin heard Lori groan loudly and then exclaim 'Oh, fuck! Oh fuck! That's so good.' He felt her hips press into his face as she urgently desired her pleasure to increase. Martin increased the pace of his tongue flicking over her clit, alternating it every so often with a gentle sucking on her protruding nub.

Lori had already been well on the way to her orgasm and the attention being given to her body by Martin was now beginning to tip her over the edge. Her cries were increasingly without any abandon and Martin was certain could surely be heard from outside through her slightly open bedroom windows.

Lori didn't care. She screamed, moaned and writhed with pleasure.

"Oh yes. Oh fuck. That's it. Lick my clit. Drink my cunt juice. Make me come Martin. Make me come."

Martin's whole body was shaking with excitement as his tongue raced across Lori's clit faster than he ever thought it could. His cock was pressing against the bed as he lay on it and he found that he was thrusting his groin into the mattress as he ate Lori out so that bolts of pleasure would shoot through his own body.

"Yes, oh yes" Lori gasped. "I'm coming. I'm coming."

Martin felt her body tense and stiffen for a second, and then as the tsunami of pleasure overtook her he felt her thighs clasp momentarily around his head. For a second he couldn't breathe, but at that moment he really didn't care.

Then as her flesh released its hold on him he was shocked to feel a warm jet of liquid spurt into his mouth. Instinctively he pulled away and a second later felt another burst splash against his face and eyes. And then a third which spattered on his cheek and began to drip down to his chin.

"Oh fuck me! Fuck! Shit! Shit." Lori cried as her spasms of pleasure began to subside.

Martin grunted and laughed at the same time, pulling his face away from the liquid which was now spattered in a rainbow arc, soaking the part of the bed on which Lori was laying. He looked up into her eyes which conveyed a mixture of raw passion, shock and a hint of embarrassment.

"Oh fuck Martin. I'm so sorry. I don't usually do that. I would have warned you. Are you ok?"

Martin looked at her and grinned. "Oh I'm more than OK Lori. That was so hot - you will never know!"

He moved toward her and kissed her, his face still covered in her sticky juices. Her mouth parted and they kissed passionately, their tongues entwined, each tasting the sweet liquid which had just flowed from Lori's cunt.

Martin's senses were stimulated to overload as endorphins coursed through his body. His anxiety and any lingering shyness had dissipated and had been replaced by an overwhelming urge to fuck this wanton creature who lay in an increasingly disheveled state before him.

Lori observed the transformation in his demeanour and the lust in his eyes and instinctively reached for him.

"Are you going to fuck me now Martin? Are you finally going to stick your hard cock in me and fuck me until I come again?" she urged.

"Yes, I fucking well am," growled Martin, surprised by his new found confident aggression.

"Well come on then. I need you in me now. I need your cock filling my cunt. I need you deep inside me pounding me until you come into me."

Martin needed no more encouragement. Taking Lori's shapely legs with his hands he lifted them up off the bed and threw them across his sinewy shoulders. Lori's body moved toward him and her pussy lips spread and glistened invitingly as Martin's cock drew towards it.

A second later his cock was at her warm entrance but this was no time for teasing or hesitation. With a guttural moan Martin pushed his cock deep into the warm folds of flesh, revelling in the exquisite sensation engulfing it as he slid deeper and deeper into Lori's pussy.

Lori groaned loudly as she felt Martin's thick cock pierce her and drive down deep into her willing body. As the tip of Martin's cock pressed against her cervix Lori felt as full as she had ever experienced. The angle of her legs and pussy meant that Martin's long hard member was going as deep as it could.

Then in an instant she felt it withdraw and then plunge down once again as Martin's wild abandon took hold.

Martin was like a man possessed. His only thought was to consume Lori with his rapture. His arms tensed against the bed, supporting his weight. His face loomed over Lori's and he looked into her startled yet lustful eyes and wide open mouth as he thrust again and again into her warm wet body. Despite the fact that he had already come less than an hour ago he was already sensing his orgasm building in his tight balls as they slapped rhythmically against Lori's firm ass.

"Oooh yes, that's right", Lori squealed. "Fuck me deep. Split me in two with your hard cock. It feels so fucking good Martin. So fucking good. I want you to make me come again. I want to you to feel me come around your hard...fucking...cock"

Lori's dirty talk was exciting Martin even more and he felt tingling sensation in his balls quickly spreading up from the base of his shaft with each thrust he made. He knew that at this pace he wouldn't last long. Part of him wanted to give in to this abandon and shoot his come right into her, but another part was still able to persuade him to prolong the impending ecstasy. He knew he wanted more of Lori's ass. That ass that had so transfixed him on the tennis court.

Martin drew his cock back one more time from Lori's pussy but this time he withdrew it completely. Lori gasped, partly in disappointment at the sudden emptiness she felt, but partly in pleasure as the tip of Martin's cock flicked up against her swollen clit as it pulled out of her.

"Get on your knees," Martin urged. "I want to fuck you like a dog."

Martin couldn't quite believe these words were coming from his mouth. He had never spoken like this before in his life. Who was this wanton woman before him who had the power to transform and transport him to such baseness. But then he didn't really care. He was revelling in it. And he could see Lori was completely taken over by it too. Their animalistic urges had taken over and in that context his command was completely appropriate. And they both knew it.

"Oooh - taking control now are we?" Lori gasped. "Well Ok - whatever you want. I'm all yours."

Lori pulled her body up and swung around so that she was on her knees with her hands stretched out toward the head of the bed. Her round ass loomed toward Martin and as her ass cheeks parted slightly he got his first glimpse of her dark anus nestling between them. For a moment Martin had a strong urge to part her cheeks further and penetrate Lori's secret place - the intensity of the desire shocked him as he had never even considered it before with Jenny.

But, realizing that Lori would not be expecting such an intrusion and desperate to continue his journey toward his orgasm, he instead guided his cock back into Lori's warm and increasingly wet pussy.

Lori groaned as he once again pressed deep into her - her juices flowing freely as Martin's cock passed through her.

As Martin began to once again thrust ever more quickly into her he reached his right hand around her slim waist and moved it down until he felt her hard clit dripping with excitement.

The air was now filled with noises of their increasingly uncontrolled passion. The slapping of Martin's body and balls against Lori's ass. The squelching of her juices as his fingers rubbed her hard clit. The high pitched squeals emitting from Lori's mouth as she felt her orgasm suddenly begin to build in her at Martin's ministrations. The rhythmical grunts from Martin as his own orgasm quickly approached once more.

"Oh fuck Martin. That's so good. I'm going to come again. You're going to make me come again," Lori gasped

"I'm going to come too," Martin responded. "I can feel it. I'm going to come deep into you".

"Yes. Come in my cunt. Shoot your fucking load right into my wet cunt Martin. I want to feel it"

That was it. Lori's foul mouthed exhortations tipped Martin over the edge. He knew he was at the point of no return. These last thrusts were going to be the deepest yet - he felt he wanted to split her frail body in two.

"Yes. Yes. I'm going to fucking come in your cunt Lori. I'm coming. Oh...I'm coming. Fuuuck"

Martin's body began to convulse as he felt the first and most powerful wave begin to wrack his body and he could no longer speak - only emit deep grunts from the back of his throat. Each thrust sent a new rainbow of sensations through his body, radiating out from his cock as he shot his come deep into Lori's cunt. Three, four, five, six times...

And as the strength of each ejaculation began to subside he became more aware of Lori's ascent to her own pleasure and her own verbal ejaculations.

"Oh my fucking life. Keep rubbing my clit Martin. I'm going to come too. Fuck me Martin. I'm coming. I'm coming with you."

Martin felt Lori's pussy suddenly contract around his cock. And then again. And again. Her ass pressed urgently against him as each spasm shook her body. And with each one a high pitched squeal came from her open mouth.

Martin's own orgasm had subsided now but it seemed like Lori's was continuing on as strong as ever. Her ass kept on thrusting back toward him for what seemed like 15 or 20 seconds as her pleasure continued.

Finally Lori slumped forward onto the bed, her arms splayed out. Martin felt his cock slowly slipping out of her with the movement, her slick juices combined with his come and the slow softening of his cock resulted in it slithering out, tracking down her left thigh leaving a glistening trail down her leg.

Martin moved over and lay down beside Lori, both of them exhausted by their exertions, their breathing still deep and pronounced. Martin gazed into Lori's sparkling and satiated eyes, he himself feeling a satisfaction that he couldn't quite remember experiencing in such a way before. It wasn't the same comfortable ease and security he had felt after making love with Jenny. Instead he felt his heart pounding loudly in the aftermath of the new, unrefined sexual side of him that had emerged.

Lori grinned at him as he stared at her.

"Well mister. I don't know what I was expecting would happen today but I certainly wasn't expecting that from you! You are full of surprises"

"So are you," retorted Martin. "I always thought of you as very ordered, proper and controlled. But a different side of you came out today."

"Mmm," Lori beamed. "I'm full of surprises! But now I'm wondering what else is in you that's going to 'come out.' I can't wait to find out."

"Neither can I," mused Martin, his mind flitting back to the image of Lori's anus which had been so tantalizing to him. Would he dare to mention it to Lori? Could it ever happen? After this evening he was prepared to believe that anything was possible.

As though she was reading his mind Lori reflected, "You do seem to like my ass. You were keen to get me on my knees weren't you".

"Haha," Martin chu

An Unexpected Match: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Tue, 12 May 2026 17:15:00 +0000

An Unexpected Match: Part 1

A friendly tennis game leads to a different kind of ball play.

By Dansilver. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

New Year s resolutions weren t usually Martin s thing.

He had enough experience to know that people s good intentions never amounted to much more than that. But he also knew that he had to do something.

2021 had been truly awful - not just because of Covid restrictions and plans getting continually cancelled but because in November, Jenny, his wife of 26 years had finally succumbed to cancer.

At least he had been able to bury her, something which wouldn t have even been several months previously.

But late fall and early winter seemed like one inexorable descent into an emotional void from which he feared he would never escape.

At least Covid provided the excuse not to visit family at Christmas time. He couldn t have faced being with people who he had enjoyed with Jenny alongside him.

Instead he sat alone in his emptiness over Christmas. But by New Year he knew he had to make some changes to try to escape the introspection and despondency which were quickly becoming too comforting a companion.

Tennis was always something which Martin had enjoyed as a teenager. Nothing too competitive - just hitting a ball with friends in the park. So, on New Year s Day, when he saw that his local tennis center was running Cardio Tennis classes, he decided to sign up.

Almost immediately, he regretted it and almost cancelled the booking. He felt nervous about venturing into a new social setting. But he knew the booking was non-refundable and, not being one to waste money, he instead tried to put it out of his mind until the date of the Monday evening class.

When it came to it, he was glad he hadn t backed out.

The evening was much more fun than he had imagined it would be. Dan, the tennis professional running the course, was good humoured and put everyone at ease, no matter what their skill level was. And the other seven people doing the course seemed ok too.

The hour-long class consisted of a combination of tennis drills and cardio workouts, culminating in 20 minutes of playing King of the Court against each other with the punishment of star jumps or burpees for those losing the point.

By the time the following Monday came around Martin was surprised how much he was looking forward to going.

As the weeks passed, the Cardio Tennis classes quickly became the highlight of Martin s week. Dan kept things moving and mixed up the drills to keep things interesting. And the rapport between the others taking the class began to grow too.

King of the Court was always the highlight of the evening and, although it never got too intense or competitive, there was an increasing level of good natured teasing and banter which took place between everyone.

Martin found himself especially enjoying points against Lori, a slim attractive woman in her mid 40 s with a sharp sense of humour and quite the competitive streak. Lori was clearly someone who had kept her fitness levels high which was some advantage in points against Martin, but he had always had good hand/eye coordination so the competition between them was fairly even.

Lori would often playfully tease Martin when they faced each other saying 'Come on old man, let s see what you ve got! which might have offended him had others said it - especially as he was only 5 or 6 years older than she was.

But coming from Lori it just had the effect of making him all the more determined to win the points.

Each Monday Martin would look forward to the evening class, but increasingly he realized that he was looking forward to being around Lori as much as anything else.

He enjoyed her company. She made him laugh and put him at ease.

But he soon realized to his surprise that there was something else stirring in him. A physical attraction which was hardly noticeable at first, dulled by months of grief and solitude, but which was slowly awakening as Spring began to bud.

Lori was certainly an attractive woman, although she wasn t what Martin would have previously called his type. Jenny had been a tall, fulsome woman, with a curvaceous figure and full rounded breasts which Martin used to delight in getting lost in when they made love.

But Lori was tiny, slim and her breasts were barely noticeable in her tennis shirt. Yet it wasn t Lori s breasts which grabbed Martin s attention on the 5th week of class.

Dan had asked everyone to get in line to play three tennis shots - one from the baseline, followed by a volley and an overhead. Then each person was to run around the court and get in line again.

Martin found himself standing in line behind Lori, who this week was wearing tight black yoga pants. After he had played his shots and was running around the court his eyes fixed themselves on Lori s ass as she ran in front of him. It was surprisingly full for her slim frame and even though his heart was pounding from the cardio workout Martin felt it leap as he contemplated her figure.

They got round the court and were soon playing their shots again before heading out on their second lap. Again Martin s eyes were drawn to Lori s seductive buttocks as they moved delightfully as she ran in front of him.

Her yoga pants were smooth over her thighs and ass and there was no sign that she was wearing any kind of underwear which made Martin s heart race even more and he even felt a slight stirring lower down - something which he hadn t experienced in a long time.

As the class went on Dan couldn t shake the image of Lori s ass from his mind. During the next exercise he tried to position himself behind her again but was frustrated when Judy, a silver haired lady in her 60 s, slotted in between them, obscuring his view. He cursed his luck.

Toward the end of the evening, during King of the Court, Martin again found that his mind wasn t on his usual banter with Lori, but had strayed elsewhere.

Lori had always been pretty vocal when she had hit the tennis ball - something which wasn t uncommon with women tennis players who grunted through the exertion of playing a point.

But Lori was more of a shrieker than a grunter, emitting a high pitched cry especially when stretching for a shot.

Martin hadn t paid too much attention to it until this week, but now he found himself wondering whether Lori s shrieking was just for the court or whether she was vocal during sex too.

Each vocal utterance took Martin s mind to Lori s bedroom as he imagined her in the throes of ecstasy with a lover.

What the hell is going on? Martin thought to himself. I m thinking like an 18 year old teenage boy! He was painfully aware that the stirring in his groin was also reminiscent of those teenage days and he knew that he would have to master his thoughts before he found himself in a very embarrassing situation in front of the others in the class.

Fortunately, the evening was just about through and he was able to gain control of his imagination before things got out of hand. Soon the class came to a close and everyone began to filter out to their vehicles.

Hey old man - fancy a game later in the week?

The voice pierced Martin s thoughts and he turned round to see Lori standing behind him, a big grin on her face.

Martin s thoughts raced. A one on one game with Lori? If the state of his mind was anything like it had been today it would be hard for him to keep any kind of control - of the ball or anything else for that matter! But he also knew he wanted to spend more time with her which made the risk worth taking.

Erm, sure. What day?

How about Thursday? I have some time during the evening if that will work for you - say around 7p.m.?

It s a date, Martin said. I mean not a date just er well you know what I mean, his face reddening.

Lori flashed her smile and giggled.

Yeah I know what you mean. I should be so lucky.

And with that she turned toward her vehicle.

See you on Thursday! she called as she walked away.

Martin turned and walked to his car and sat there, the engine still turned off, hardly believing what had just happened.

In one sense nothing at all had happened. Lori had just arranged a tennis game with him.

But his mind was racing away from him.

What did she mean by I should be so lucky?

Was she attracted to him? Or was it another one of her jokes?

Martin turned the key in the engine and began the 10 minute drive home. His mind replayed the conversation, and then the images of Lori s seductive ass mingled with her shrieks.

As he finally allowed himself full rein to reimagine Lori s toned body, Martin s cock began to stir once again. This time there was no need for him to try to control it for the sake of decorum.

Yet Martin s growing excitement was tempered by a nagging sense of guilt. Jenny, the only lover he had ever had, had only just passed and yet here he was - his mind and body yearning for another.

Surely he shouldn t be having these thoughts. Yet they wouldn t disperse. Rather than reminiscing about tender times with his wife, instead he was picturing Lori pulling down her yoga pants at home right now, imagining her smooth firm white bottom emerging from the black material.

By the time he was half way home Martin s cock was standing to full attention, his tennis shorts tented as it strained against them.

And still he played out the scene in his mind.

He imagined Lori laying down on her bed. Her feet clamped together. Her knees splayed apart forming a diamond shape.

He pictured her hand move down to the crest of the jewel parting the lips of her pussy with her fingers.

He saw the glistening of her juices on her fingers as she began to rub her clit - slowly at first but soon picking up speed as her urgency increased.

And as her whole mind and body was overwhelmed by her orgasm he envisaged her convulsing with pleasure and screaming with joy.

Martin realized that he was almost home, although he couldn t remember any of his journey.

His left hand had strayed down to his cock and had been stroking and pulling on its head through his shorts.

Martin s fingers felt the sticky wetness of his pleasure which had seeped through his light gray shorts and as he looked down he saw a dark patch of his pre-emission bleeding through the material.

As his hand moved slowly up and down, desperate for these exquisite sensations to continue, Martin s foot increased the pressure on the accelerator in an attempt to make sure he made it home before his orgasm overtook him on the journey.

Martin pulled into the driveway and quickly walked toward his front door - his tennis bag held close against his body lest anyone should see his lack of decorum. He opened the door, threw the bag on the floor, ignored the eager greeting of his golden retriever and dashed upstairs.

His entire mind and body was now set on one thing only. He needed release - needed to feel the rush of pleasure coursing through his body.

He needed to come.

Martin threw himself on the bed and yanked his shorts down to his ankles, his hand eagerly grabbing his fully erect cock. Now was not the time for teasing - the journey had dealt with that.

He dragged his hand across the head of his shaft, smearing the creamy bubbly juices which had seeped out during the journey all over the top portion of his cock. Then he began milking his hand quickly up and down - imagining he was pumping it deep into Lori s pussy. Feeling her velvet walls encase him.

He immediately felt his orgasm begin to build at the base of his cock, his balls tightening as his breathing shortened.

He needed to come.

He wanted to come.

He was going to come.

It only took a few more seconds for the sensations to deepen and spread upward. His balls and anus tightened as he reached the point of no return. Guttural sounds of pleasure began to escape his throat as his whole being was consumed with the heightening sensations.

The pleasure was so great that he almost wanted to stay there - to prolong the moment of release.

Martin s hand slowed almost to a stop. His thumb and index finger lightly teased the tip of his cock.

But even that could not hold back the huge tidal surge which had been building and now was about to break.

He was coming.

Martin s body convulsed and the first shot of cum flew through the air and landed on his forehead, the second quickly following and hitting his neck just under the chin. He gasped as each wave of pleasure washed over him - his body quaking with each convulsion. Chemicals raced through his brain - intense pleasure that almost verged on pain as he felt his head throb with each surge.

Finally the intensity of the sensations began to subside.

Martin lay there, completely spent, in his state of semi-undress trying to come to terms with what had overcome him. Every so often his cock twitched again as several aftershocks shook his body.

Eventually he stood, walked into his en-suite and turned on the shower.

Thursday couldn t come quick enough.

As the evening of his game with Lori grew closer, Martin knew that it was going to take every fibre of his mental strength to stay focused on the game.

When he arrived at the tennis center he headed straight for the court and pushing back the heavy vinyl backdrop curtain he saw that Lori had already arrived and was stretching at the side of the net.

She was wearing a pure white top and a light blue silky tennis skirt which showed off her slender legs from just above the knees. As she stretched forward the skirt slowly dragged itself upwards showing off a few more inches of her tantalizing white thigh.

Lori s long black hair was tied back in a ponytail which draped down her back topped by a white cap.

As Martin came through the curtain onto the court she turned toward him and flashed him a smile.

Hey old man! I m glad you made it. It wouldn t have been as much fun playing with myself.

Did she giggle slightly at the innuendo Martin wondered? Was it deliberate? Had she been planning her introduction? Or was he just being dirty minded?

Martin chastised himself for his thoughts. She s probably saying it in complete innocence, he reasoned.

His musings were broken into by Lori s perky voice

Come on - let s play!

She handed him two tennis balls and tucked the third under the pleat of her tennis skirt into what Martin could only imagine were panties sewn into her skirt.

Martin and Lori took their positions at either side of the net and began hitting the balls to each other as they warmed up. As they did so they chatted about how their week had been going. Just normal, everyday conversation.

Martin began to convince himself that it was clearly only he who was reading anything more into this than a friendly game of tennis.

By the time they began to play some competitive points Martin had fully persuaded himself that Lori s request to play him was purely for the sake of fitness and exercise. Now that they were playing seriously the conversation had petered out apart from when calling the balls out of court and keeping score.

At one point in the game when Martin was serving, Lori asked Do you have any balls?

Martin quickly replied Yes, I ve got two here in my shorts. Can t you tell?

He immediately felt embarrassed at his teenage humour, but Lori grinned and said, Come on then - get them out. Don t keep me waiting.

Martin wondered whether she was playing along with the innuendo or simply responding to the conversation in a far more innocent way than he was.

The game turned out to be pretty even and as the hour court time was coming to a close each of them seemed to be putting in more effort to try to win the match.

Lori s shrieking grew in its loudness and frequency which only served to distract Martin from his game, his mind once again imagining an entirely different context. Whether it was this lapse in mental strength or simply her greater stamina, Lori closed the set out just as the hour came to a close.

Great game, and well played, Martin congratulated Lori as they approached the bench at the side of the court where they had each left their bags.

Thanks, I enjoyed it a lot, Lori smiled back. I d love to play with you again soon.

I d like that too, Martin replied and as he spoke he felt his cock twitch as his mind immediately leapt to picturing her playing with his balls rather than tennis balls.

Got much else planned for this evening? Lori asked. We could go for a drink. Beats watching TV alone.

Sure - I d like that. But don t you have a husband or partner waiting for you or a someone?

Martin winced at his awkwardness. He realized that after over a quarter of a century of marriage he had no idea how to handle these sorts of situations.

Lori chuckled. Nope. No husband. Or wife. Or any other sort of lover. Well not the human kind anyway!

Martin felt his face turning red but at the same time the stirring in his groin increased at Lori s sudden candour.

Without any warning an image of Lori holding a vibrator against her pussy while spreadeagled on her bed popped up into his mind. Martin quickly tried to push back down - he wasn t in the privacy of his car now.

Control yourself man, he thought as he felt his cock begin to engorge with blood.

Ok, well er, let s have a drink then. Where do you want to go?

Martin could feel his heart beginning to race with the anticipation of spending more of the evening with Lori, coupled with the lingering image which had entered his mind.

To be honest, I m not really dressed for a bar. I came out like this ready for tennis, Lori mused.

Why don t you come back to my place? It s just 5 minutes away. I have a nice bottle of Toscana, if you like red wine.

"Sure I d love to, Martin said, his heart beating even faster now despite the game being over some time ago.

Great. Well just follow me. Won t take long.

As Martin followed Lori s white Subaru Impreza his whole body seemed on fire with excitement.

He felt like he could hardly breathe. What was happening? He even wondered whether he was having some kind of heart attack.

He tried to convince himself that he had only been invited back for a drink. But he couldn t shake the thought that there could be more.

It was years since he had felt like this. Life with Jenny had been wonderful and their lovemaking had been tender, yet had long

Love Endures War: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Tue, 12 May 2026 03:31:00 +0000

Love Endures War: Part 2

Tender love in a Wounded Seventies America.

Based on a post by want some fun 1951. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The five of us, Joey’s parents and mine; flew to California to meet the ship that brought Joey home. We didn't get to see him at the dock. He was whisked into an ambulance that we tried to follow in our rental car.

At the hospital, his doctor took us to his office. Joey had been shot and captured. His injuries weren't life-threatening, and they stopped the bleeding at a Viet Cong field hospital. He was taken to a prison camp for debriefing.

"We're all adults here, and I believe in telling the truth, so I'll be blunt," the army doc said. "To the Viet Cong running that camp, 'debriefing' meant torture until they decided if a prisoner knew something useful, followed by long periods of confinement. Joey was a rank-and-file infantryman, so he wasn't very useful to them, but they kept him alive as a bargaining chip.

"American soldiers came to take the camp, and there was a fire-fight. Our guys were prepared, and the Cong ran out of ammo. They apparently tried to beat their captives to death when they knew the camp would to be taken. Private Ramsey sustained a severe skull fracture. When he was liberated from the camp, he was in a coma, nearly dead of starvation and exposure. He's much better now. Recovering nicely. With hard work, he should make further improvements. We're keeping him sedated, but you may see him for a minute each."

I was allowed to go first. A nurse led me to a window that looked into his room. I could hardly recognize him through the bandages on his head. Tubes, wire, bottles, and bags were everywhere. He had a cast on one leg, where surgeons had repaired the badly-healed fractures from his initial wound. His other leg had scars from long-healed sores. Skinny arms extended from his hospital gown, tubes in both of them between old cigarette burns. Always so big and strong, my darling looked like he was half his old size. He had a tube down his nose, and he was out cold.

We walked into his room. "Talk to him, honey," the nurse said. "He's in deep sedation, but some patients say they remember things when they wake up."

"Joey? Joey, it's Sue."

His chest rose and fell slowly.

"Joey? You're home now. Well, not home. You're in a hospital in California. We came to visit, me, my folks and your parents."

"Time's almost up, honey," the nurse whispered.

"I love you, Joey," I said as I backed out of room.

We stayed for a week, visiting him for a minute apiece each morning, afternoon, and evening. The day before our flight home, the doctor met us in the waiting room outside Intensive Care. "I have good news. Private Ramsey is showing excellent improvement. He's doing well enough that we've lowered his medication. He's in a "twilight" sleep now. He hasn't opened his eyes or spoken, but I believe that's coming. We'll be able to make arrangements to transfer him to a Veterans Administration hospital near your home soon."

That day, it was Marge's turn to go in first. She spent her full minute in his room holding his hand and crying. When Joe went in, he sat close to his son's head, telling him he would be home soon. Then it was my turn.

"He's asleep, Sue, but talk to him," Joe said when I passed him in the doorway.

"Joey, it's me, Sue. I'll be with you a lot more soon, when you're in a hospital near home. I've missed you so much, Joey." I laid my hand on his outstretched one and held it, like I had every time we visited.

This time, he made a noise.

"Nurse, he's talking!"

"He's been doing that ever since last night. He's probably feeling some discomfort from his latest surgery now, so there's a little moaning."

"Oh," Joey whispered. "Oh. Oh."

"What's that, honey? Are you in pain?" I asked.

"Oh. Oh. Ess." He worked his tongue around in his mouth. " Saw, Sue."

"Yes, Joey, it's me. It's Sue!"

His hand twitched, like he was trying to squeeze mine the way I was squeezing his. He whispered "Sue" again. Then he slept.

By the time he was transferred to the local VA hospital two weeks later, Joey was awake a lot of the time. He didn't talk much, and when he did, he seemed confused. The staff said rehabilitation would take a long time. Because of his head injuries and the deplorable conditions in which he had been imprisoned for so long, we should be prepared for only a partial recovery.

The first day I went to see him, he was propped up in bed, asleep, but facing the TV. I pulled up a chair and sat next to his head. "Joey, can you wake up?"

His eyes flickered for a moment, and when they opened, I saw fear.

"It's me, Sue. I came to see you."

"Sue. Sue. Why am I here?"

"You were injured in the war. You were in a prison camp, but now you're in the VA hospital near home."

"Oh. Why are you here?"

"I came to see you. Do you want me to go?"

"No. Stay. Don't leave me."

Every day after I was done with student teaching, I went to the hospital to be with him. Every day, he was better, until one night about a week before my birthday. He was agitated that evening.

"What's wrong, honey? You seem upset," I said.

"Your birthday is next week. I can't go buy you a present," he said.

"That's okay. Getting you back is the best present in the world."

"You don't understand. I can't go get you a present because I can't walk. I haven't walked in years. That cage they kept me in was too small to let me stand up, even if my leg had healed right. I went to physical therapy today. My legs are so weak I can't stand on my own. How can I ever get a job and go to a store to buy things for you if I'm like that?"

"It doesn't matter. You're alive, and you're with me again. I don't need anything else."

"No. I'm no good to you now. I'm a broken-down wreck. You need a man."

"I have a man."

"I'm not a man. I'm an invalid."

"You're a patient. You were shot. They tortured you and kept you in a tiny bamboo cage for years. You were near death from starvation. The bastards fractured your skull. It's going to take time for you to recover."

"You shouldn't have waited for me. I don't know why you're here. Why aren't you married and having babies?"

"I don't want to be married to anyone but you. I don't want any babies but yours."

When visiting hours were over, I kissed him, like always. Joey really kissed me back for the first time.

The next day, he was sitting in a chair. "I have to pee," was the first thing he said.

"Do you want me to help you to the bathroom?"

"No, you can't do that."

"They tell me you can bear some weight on your good leg. We can probably get you there."

"No, Sue, I can't let you do that. Find an orderly."

"Joey, I'm strong enough if you'll help me."

"Don't you get it? I have to pee! I need someone to help me onto the toilet. I can't let you do that," Joey protested. "Now please, go find a man to help me."

I came back into the room with a burly orderly, but Joey was adamant that I wait in the hallway while they took care of things. "I can't hold onto him and the railing and still keep my gown closed. Please, Sue, respect my privacy."

When the orderly left the room, I went back in. "I didn't mean to embarrass you," I said.

"It's okay. It just wouldn't have been proper for you to see me with my skinny butt hanging out of this stupid gown."

"I understand, Joey, but someday, I'll see that skinny butt in bed next to me."

"What?"

"When we're married, silly."

"You don't want to marry me, Sue. I'm not the man you fell in love with."

"I didn't fall in love with a man. I fell in love with a boy who once let me beat him arm-wrestling. I fell in love with the boy who danced with me to "Moon River." I fell in love with the guy who gave me this," I said, pulling my precious locket out from where it was hidden by my sweater. "I'm in love with a man now. You, Joey."

"But I'm not the same man."

"Yes you are. Whatever you can or can't do, I love you." I leaned down and kissed him. Joey kissed me back pretty hard, the way he did a couple of times the night before he left for the war.

When we let go, tears rolled down his cheeks. "I'm going down to physical therapy tomorrow, and I'll work until I'm healthy enough to take care of you, if you still want me."

On Easter Sunday morning, Mom, Dad, and I piled into the back of Joe and Marge's car to meet Joey for services at the hospital chapel. He was beaming, obviously very excited, but he wouldn't say a word as he led us back to his room on his cane.

When we got to his room, he sat in his armchair. "I can come home next week," he said.

"That's great news!" my dad exclaimed.

"They said if I could do something, I could go home, so I've been practicing a lot." He stood up and hobbled over to where I was sitting. Trying to mask the pain on his face, he got down on his bad knee. His father handed him something. "Sue, I should have done this five years ago when it was easier. Will you marry me?" There was a diamond ring in the little box in his hand.

"Oh my God!" I burst into happy tears, and leaned forward to kiss him, being careful not to knock him over. "Yes, Joey, my God yes, I'll marry you!"

"My therapist said he'll work with me until I can carry a nurse around. When I can do that, when I'm strong enough to carry you over the threshold, we'll get married."

It was supposed to be a small ceremony. At least, that was what we wanted. Our families had different ideas. Joey's platoon leader, who had been in the prison camp with him, was the best man. Mike recovered from his injuries faster than Joey. He came to visit when he could, driving three hundred miles one way, helping Joey keep his spirits up. The young widow from church who supported me through those lonely years when Joey was away was matron of honor, and her little boy was the ring bearer. Both our moms cried their way through the whole thing.

At the reception, Joey danced with me when the band played "Moon River," but he sat most of the time. When it got late, his father gave him the keys to a new car for us to drive to the hotel where we would be spending the night. After the garter was retrieved and the bouquet tossed, we left.

"Mrs. Ramsey," he said after the bellboy carried our bags into the room, "I never thought I'd see this day." He picked me up, and I wrapped my arms around his neck to kiss him as he carried me to the bed, the first real bed we would ever share.

We kissed, hotter than we ever had, fumbling with buttons, zippers and catches. We laughed at our nervousness and frustration with strange garments, until I was down to my bra and panties, and he was only wearing his shorts.

His cock bulged against them, fascinating but frightening, moving, growing. "This is it, Sue."

"I've waited a long time, honey," I replied, reaching behind me to unclasp my bra.

"Wait, let me do that," Joey said. He pulled my bra off me, and knelt on the bed next to me, looking at my tits. "You're perfect." His hand touched my bare flesh for the first time. "Perfect," he repeated as my nipple hardened.

I pulled him down on top of me, feeling his chest hair against my tits and his turgid shaft against my panty-covered mound. We kissed, tongues intertwined, until we were fighting for air. "Roll over," I said. I wanted a good look what was going to make me his wife physically. He raised his hips when I grabbed the waistband of his briefs.

Joey and I had made a pact that we would only go so far before we were married, so I had never seen his cock. I thought I had an idea of its size and shape from feeling it against me, hard through clothing when we made out, but seeing it bared, ready, and anxious, inches from me, was different. I was almost as scared of it as I was thrilled by it.

"I don't know what to do," I said.

"You got an A in health class in eleventh grade, Sue."

"So did you."

"We learned all about this there. I think we can figure it out," my new husband said, his hand pushing into my panties. It didn't take long for him to have them off, and to give me my first orgasm by someone other than me. He did it again, kissing my tits, teasing my nipples with his tongue.

"I love you, Joey. It's time."

He got on top of me, kissing me as he fondled my tits and then my cunt. He pushed himself up so he could see what he was doing, holding it and taking aim.

"Do it, honey. I'm your wife now." I tried to calm myself to relax my body, while bracing for the pain. Every woman I talked to, said it hurt, including my mother and my mother-in-law. They said it got better over time. I prayed they were right.

I was terrified. I expected him to find his mark, push himself inside me, injure me (tearing tissue is an injury, after all), and then rut like an animal until he shot inside me.

That's not exactly what he did.

Joey and I discovered something that very first time. He could drive me crazy with his cock. He didn't enter me for a while. He stroked me with it, played with me, up and down over my wet cleft, massaging my clitoris with the hard, wet, spongy end of it, and bringing me to still another orgasm.

When I calmed down, I saw the happiness on his face. "I'm going to do it now. I'll try not to hurt you more than I have to, baby."

His cock pried my lips apart just enough that they gripped it. I had never felt anything like this. Nothing so big. I was torn between my fear and my lust about it being where nothing had gone before.

"I didn't know it would feel like this," he sighed. He shifted his weight, trying to keep from pinning me under him. That made him move inside me, change his angle, something. It felt good.

He saw it on my face, and he grinned, moving a little more, this time just a fraction of an inch further into me.

I pulled him down for a kiss, one I knew we would remember. He kept up with his slow, tiny thrusts, finally coming to a stop against my barrier.

"I love you, Sue. I have since the day we sat on that rock and talked. I've always loved you, all through school, every moment I was conscious in Nam; it was what kept me sane. Now I'm home with you forever. Now I love you more."

He moved again to kiss me, and sank through. As soon as he felt me give way, he stopped, holding himself from going deeper, waiting for me to kiss him back. He gave me time until I nodded, kissed him, and said, "More."

He was gentle and caring, the way I needed him to be. Instinct, passion, and love guided us, but it hurt a little. I was very sensitive and tender. It felt wonderful, an odd mix of pleasure with pain. Our love was complete when he finally shot his essence inside me. He managed to keep his eyes open, the same as I did when I reached my first climax with him inside me a moment later. With everything we experienced, we loved more.

We wanted kids, prayed for them, but not yet. I went on the pill when we got engaged, and was quite satisfied with it. My tits filled out a sweater better, and I had just a little wiggle when I walked, something I practiced when my parents weren't home to drive Joey crazy on our honeymoon. We cuddled after making love for the first time. "What if the pill doesn't work?" I asked.

"We start thinking about names."

"Would you want a baby this soon, Joey?"

"I'd rather be finished with some kind of school and into a decent job before we have kids, but I'll go with the flow. Maybe it's supposed to happen."

"I think I'd rather wait, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't practice for getting me pregnant." I caressed his muscle, the skin sticky with our drying juices.

Losing my virginity hadn't hurt as much as I thought it might, although I didn't care, since it was Joey. We made love again that night before we fell asleep, and in the morning before we got ready for breakfast. When we went to bed that evening I was still sore from stretching to accommodate him, as amazing as it had felt.

"Joey," I said, touching his naked body in the bed next to me. "I don't know how to say this, but I'm pretty sore."

"I'm sorry, honey." He kissed me gently and caressed my tit. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't. Well, yeah, the first time it hurt a little, but it was you, Joey, my husband. We made love a lot, and I enjoyed every minute of it, but I think she needs a break," I said, gesturing toward my crotch.

"Should I kiss it and make it all better?" he murmured into my ear.

"Very funny."

"I'm not trying to be funny. Guys in the Army talked about it. I'd like to try it." He kissed me again, and then leaned down and kissed my tits. "I hope I do this okay."

His fingers teased my curls as he licked and sucked on my nipples. We learned the night before how much I enjoyed that, but he kept moving lower until he kissed my belly-button. Then lower.

I knew people did this, touched their partner's intimate places with their mouths, but I hadn't thought about it much. My promise to God and Joey as a teenager, followed by those years of forced abstinence, meant that I was poorly prepared for this sex stuff. I let my body figure out what to do with conventional missionary intercourse, and I liked it. A lot. Now, my husband was between my legs, kissing the tops of my thighs.

"I love you, Sue," he said, just before his tongue reached me.

That first jolt of sensation, his warm, wet tongue on my tender lips, was like nothing I imagined. My legs spread on their own, and my hands went down to caress his scalp, avoiding the ugly scars where hair would never grow. He was gentle, licking at me, kissing my clit, pressing his tongue into the bruised opening of my cunt. I couldn't believe the feelings.

He brought me to orgasm quickly the first time, faster than I've ever been able to do it myself, and more intensely that he did in our love-making earlier. I was still riding that high when I realized I was going to go again.

I was trying to make sense of the waves of sensation and emotion that kept washing over me when I heard him say, "You like that, don't you?"

"Very much! Where did you learn to do that?"

"Listening to guys. They said chicks dig it. I also read some magazines my roommate's friends brought him in the VA hospital. Seeing your reaction was kinda fun."

"Didn't it taste funny?" His chin was wet, and I felt the moisture under me.

"No, in fact, you taste kind of good."

"Really? People say that's nasty," I said.

"I know, but I think they're wrong. It was pretty cool. I'll definitely do that again."

I was so excited that I almost begged him to make love to me, but I knew that would only make me more sore. Poor Joey! If I was still that needy after what he did to me, how bad must it be for him? One glance at his cock gave me the answer. It was only fair. We were married now. That changes the rules. "Joey, would you like me to do that to you?"

"Not if you don't want to," he said. His rock-hard cock bounced with his words.

"I never thought about doing it before. Do you know what I should do?"

"I heard guys talk about it."

I took him in my hand and stroked him, the way he seemed to like. "I'll try it." I held his cock and kissed it. A drop of clear fluid leaked out. It was the same thing I saw on him just before he entered me each time. I licked him, tasting it.

"Oh, Sue!" he moaned.

That was what I needed to hear. M

Love Endures War: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Mon, 11 May 2026 03:29:00 +0000

Love Endures War: Part 1

Tender love in a turbulent Sixties America.

Based on a post by want some fun 1951. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

It was the summer of '69.

It was the summer of despair.

"The heat waves shimmered in the distance, rising off the sand in an unmerciful display of mother nature's authority. We lay where we had been for hours, in the only good cover around. Off to the left, we heard enemy snipers, the gunfire signaling the start of another day in Hell."

That was part of a letter Joey wrote after his unit fought its way back to base camp. He wrote as often as he could. Sometimes, I'd find a stack of his letters in the mailbox when I got home from work, and then, I wouldn't hear from him for a while. Whenever his family got any news, they would call me or visit to share the letter. I did the same for them. I always let my folks and Joey's read what we wrote, including the parts where Joey and I talked about getting married when he got home.

It was the summer of '59.

That's when I met him.

Joey and I always liked each other. We were too young to think of each other as boyfriend and girlfriend at first. His family moved into a new house down the block the summer after third grade. I was a tomboy. I loved to ride my bike to the schoolyard to play on the swings, seesaws, and sliding board with the neighborhood boys. Sometimes, we'd play cowboys and Indians on the vacant lots in our development. Nobody thought anything of it a; me, a girl, playing with a bunch of boys. We were kids. I didn't care about the differences between a boy's body and mine. I knew they could stand up to pee, and I knew why. Big deal. That's the way it was. The boys knew I was different from them between the legs. They knew that made me a girl, but otherwise, I was one of them.

Until Joey moved in.

He was different, maybe a little quieter than the others, more serious, more grown up. He was horrified the first time one of the boys took a leak where I could see him. "Don't look, Sue! Harold, what do you think you're doing? There's a GIRL here!"

"Yeah?" Fat Dennis sneered. "So what?"

"So what? So what? You can't let her see that! That's what!"

Fat Dennis stood up. He always bullied new kids at first. He towered over everyone, even Joey, and Joey was big, in a strong-looking way. "Joey, you moved in two days ago, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"That means you don't tell us what to do. If I need to pee when I'm out here with Sue, I'll walk to the nearest tree or wall or something and do it. We all do. So does she. She has to sit down or squat to pee, though."

"That's wrong."

"No, she does."

"Not that part! I meant doing it in front of a girl," Joey stated.

"Why?"

"Because it is."

"Says who? You?" Dennis taunted.

Joey stood up and looked at me. "It's also wrong to fight, and it would be real wrong to let Sue see if anything happens."

"You gonna fight me, new kid?"

"I don't want to," Joey said.

"You chicken to lose in front of a girl?" Fat Dennis strutted around, flapping his wings and clucking.

"No."

"You know I'd beat you up, don't you, new kid?"

"That's not how it would go," Joey chuckled.

"Big talk," Dennis threatened. "Come here and fight me."

"No."

Dennis was pretty worked up by that point, so everyone knew he was going to lunge at Joey. Poor Fat Dennis. Joey side-stepped, ducked Dennis' punch, and flipped him over so he landed on his back. It knocked the wind out of him for a couple seconds.

Joey knelt next to him. "I didn't want to do that. Are you okay?"

Dennis wiped his eyes with his t-shirt, refusing to cry. "What did you do?"

"Stopped the fight. I want to be your friend, Dennis. I know you're the leader here, so I'm telling you; no peeing in front of her, and if she needs to go, we walk away."

Fat Dennis struggled to his feet, shaking off Joey's offer to help. "Fine, but why?"

"Do you pee in front of your mother?"

"No! Boys don't do that!"

"Right, but why not?"

"You just don't. Nobody pees in front of their mother. Heck, that stops when you're old enough to aim it. I mean, it's your mother!"

"You have a big sister, don't you, Dennis?"

"Yeah."

"Do you pee in front of her?"

"No!" Dennis sputtered. He looked like he was working himself up to a second round.

"Why not?"

"Are you trying to start something, Joey? Boys don't pee in front of their sisters. That's wrong."

"Exactly. We don't do it in front of our mothers and sisters because it's wrong. You know why? They're girls."

"Yeah," Dennis said. Then, "Oh."

They shook hands, and with the new rule in place, Dennis suggested a game of tackle-tag. It was his favorite game. To tag someone, you had to knock them down. Tripping or shoving often were enough, but we usually went home scuffed and dirty. Dennis approached the game with brute force. The rest of us responded with agility and speed, so we were fairly matched.

Maybe Joey tried to treat me like a girl. It was easy to get away from him when he was "It." He'd tackle the guys if he had to, just the way they taught him, but not me.

When it was my turn to be "It," Joey was closest to me. He ran, dodging me, until I grabbed his arm and threw myself at him. He landed on his belly with me on his back.

"Holy cow, Sue! You hit hard!"

"Yup. You're "It." I scampered away from him. A few turns later, he was "It" again and came after me. He caught my one leg as I was climbing a tree and pulled me down. I landed on top of him, breaking my fall.

Lying on his back, he laughed and picked me up by my waist to hold over him like a trophy. "Tag. No tag-backs. You're 'It.'"

"I'm not on the ground. To tag someone, they have to land on the ground."

He pulled me against himself and rolled us over, pinning me under his body. "Now you're tagged." He rose up on his arms and looked into my eyes for a moment on top of me, smiling. Then he stood up, helped me to my feet, and ran away.

Joey fit in well enough, but sometimes he'd wander off. I was curious about those times, so I watched him, to see where he went. I followed him after a while and found him sitting on a big rock in the shade, staring down the hillside at the surveyors figuring out where new streets would go. "Penny for your thoughts, Joey."

"Oh!" He jumped like I had appeared by magic. "Hi, Sue."

"What are you doing?"

"Sitting on this rock."

"May I sit with you?"

That was how it started.

Joey and I became friends. We spent the whole afternoon sitting in the shade on that rock, swapping stories and getting to know each other. The entire gang of us "Daisy Drive Devils," as our parents called us, were friends. At least a few of us were always together. The day after Joey and I talked, the Devils played as a group like we always did.

One morning we woke up to a steady, soaking rain. No one ever called each other on rainy days, since none of us was allowed outside because we would catch our death. None of our mothers understood that we would get wet walking to the bus stop that fall, too.

We sat alone in our living rooms and watched Looney Tunes, The Three Stooges, and game shows on television. My parents had a big, top-of-the-line, blond oak cabinet best and an antenna on the chimney, but after Joey moved in, I didn't spend much time in the living room, except when "Lassie" was on, Sunday nights.

I was helping Mommy with the breakfast dishes, watching the rain through the kitchen window, when the big black telephone on the table next to the refrigerator rang. Since I was drying, Mommy told me to answer. "Hello, Brown residence."

"Is that you, Sue? This is Joey. Do you want to come play at my house? My mother says it's okay."

"It's raining."

"I can come over with a big umbrella to get you."

"Do you want to watch television?"

"We could, or we could play in the basement or my room. Maybe we could trade baseball cards or something."

"Let me ask Mommy."

In ten minutes, Joey knocked on our door. With my shoebox of baseball cards safe and dry under my yellow rain slicker, I splashed down the sidewalk, protected by him.

That first day at Joey's house was an eye-opener. I had never been in a boy's room, but I thought all they did was play with toy trucks and soldiers and Lincoln Logs. Joey did stuff the other boys didn't do. He played the piano. He read books. He drew pictures. He was probably the toughest and strongest kid on the block, even though I did beat him arm wrestling once, but he had another side. Joey showed me different things in life.

He was a collector. He had baseball cards, coins, stamps, and models. I had my card collection and some dolls I took very good care of, since they were going to belong to my little boy and girl someday. I knew the value of things. Joey had some really neat stuff, and he liked things the other kids didn't.

Every time it rained, I went to Joey's house or he came to mine. Our parents liked each other, so our getting together was encouraged. We were close friends. We shared secrets, fears, and dreams. We were never bored or lonely like the other kids seemed to be when the Devils couldn't play outside.

Joey's parents joined our church, so we were in the same vacation Bible school class in August. By the time fourth grade started, the grown-ups saw us as a puppy-love couple, I guess, but we were just part of the gang to the rest of the Devils.

In seventh grade, Mom and Dad let me go to the Friday night dances with the rest of the kids. I always went with my girlfriends, and Joey went with the boys, old Daisy Drive Devils or teammates from the sports he played. At that age, boys stood on one side of the gym and girls stood on the other, both groups talking about members of the other group.

Joey knew my preferences in music. He liked some of the more modern, edgy bands, but I still loved the crooners. I saw him break away from his gang and go talk to the school principal, who served as DJ. I thought he probably requested a Beach Boys song, since he and his buddies liked that stuff, but instead, the principal got on the mike. "I have a song request. Here's your chance, gentlemen. Ask a lady to dance."

Andy Williams sang. Mom and Dad taught me to dance so I wouldn't look awkward, but Joey was the first boy I ever slow-danced with. I still remember all the lyrics to "Moon River." Feeling his hand holding mine as we moved, I knew I wasn't a child anymore, and that things between us would change.

Monday in school, it was obvious they had, at least in the eyes of our classmates. Girls I didn't even know told me they thought I had a cute boyfriend. Joey told me that all his buddies referred to me as his girlfriend. All that from one dance. We talked about it the rest of the school year. Our friends were right. We belonged together.

Joey and I started going steady in eighth grade. The locket he gave me for my fifteenth birthday is in its original box in my nightstand. He bought it with money he earned doing jobs around the neighborhood. It's still one of my most prized possessions. He turned sixteen before I did, so he drove us to the mall so I could pick out the dress he would buy me to take me out for my birthday dinner. When he kissed me goodnight on my front porch after our date, he gave me one last gift; a picture of him to put in the locket I wore whenever I dressed up for church or for him. It's still in there.

All through high school, Joey and I were inseparable. I became a cheerleader, co-captain of the squad senior year, mainly so I could be near him. Our parents were thrilled. My folks loved Joey, and the Ramsey's treated me like their daughter. They trusted us, knew that we had taken a vow in youth group to remain pure until marriage. On my eighteenth birthday he gave me a "sweetheart ring." We were in love, the kind of love that lasts, one built on friendship rather than hormones.

Don't get me wrong about hormones. Joey grew from a cute boy the girls whispered about in seventh grade into one they drooled over in high school. Guys looked at me all the time, too, but everyone knew we were off-limits. I was his girl, and he was my man. Everyone understood. It was how the world was meant to be.

As seniors in high school, we had the grades and credits to get into college. I didn't need to go, since I would be a wife, homemaker, and mother. Joey and I talked about it for years. He planned to follow in his father's footsteps by serving his country. When he was done, we would get married and he would continue his education.

Prom night was the night when a lot of couples had sex for the first time. Joey and I were king and queen of the prom. More than one of his buddies made comments about our plans for later that night, since we weren't going to the post-prom party. One of my girlfriends teased me in the rest-room at the prom, too.

"Are you and Joey going to do it tonight?" she asked from the next stall.

"Do what?" I asked. I had my lap full of prom gown skirt, trying to squat over the toilet to pee.

"It. Are you two going to do It tonight?"

"If you mean are we going to have sex, the answer is no."

"Why not? You two have been going together for, like, forever."

"Yes, and we promised we would wait. You and I talked about this."

"I know, but it's Joey. He's like, your world, isn't he? You're going to marry him, aren't you? And he's so gorgeous."

She was right. It was Joey, my gorgeous man, the man who made me feel like a beautiful, well-loved woman. Yes, other couples would have sex that night, couples who would never get married, who didn't love each other like my boyfriend and I did. They didn't understand that real love doesn't need sex. That two people can feel like they have one soul without being physically intimate. I thought about my parents and grandparents. Surely they didn't have sex anymore, but they still were deeply in love. That's how Joey and I were.

Being in love was natural, like getting out of bed in the morning and brushing my teeth. Marriage and family were a given. We knew what some of our friends did. We knew we should wait. Sex was for newlyweds, something we would be when he got out of the Army. He left for boot camp three days after graduation.

It was the summer of '69.

His letters during basic training were so full of love, I thought he might surprise me and ask me to marry him when he got home. I would have. The minister's study would have been good enough for me. We were more in love than ever, having been apart. We both felt it, but Joey avoided any discussion about long-term plans. We lived in the moment.

The night before he shipped out, we were in the basement family room he and I helped Dad build, sitting together on the couch.

"Baby," Joey said, "Do you think you should wait for me? You know there's a chance I'll never come home. I could die over there. Maybe we should break up so you can get started on finding another guy."

"No! There won't be another guy, Joey. I'm yours. I've known that more than half my life."

"I feel the same way," he said, wiping my tears with his neatly folded pocket handkerchief. "I can't imagine feeling like this with anyone else. I thought about asking you to marry me before I ship out, but I decided that's not fair. You're young and beautiful. You're going to be here, and Lord knows where I'll be. Please, Sue, just write back to me when I can write to you."

I wanted to give him my virginity that night. He deserved it. He was the only man I would ever sleep with, and he wasn't trying anything! "Joey, do you want to make love?"

"Please don't ask me that. I do, but I won't. We've waited this long, honey. If I come back, we'll see if we still feel the same."

"You're scaring me. I can't lose you." We spent the night on the couch, kissing, cuddling, and finally sleeping in each other’s arms, dressed except for our shoes.

I stayed at my high-school job at the diner. I didn't have any other job skills, but I worked hard. It was good enough. Work kept me occupied and earned some money, a nest egg for when Joey and I got married. I didn't burn my bra. I looked forward to a couple of babies and a nice kitchen. I didn't want a career other than wife and mother. Maybe, when the kids were grown, I would take some classes, but hopefully, being a grandmother would take up a lot of my time.

Joey had been gone for over two months. From the dates on his letters, it seemed like he wrote to me and his parents almost every night, but mail service from the jungle was sporadic. Often, we went for a week or more without any news. The letter about him being pinned down by snipers was in the last bundle, over two weeks earlier. As always, I was sick with worry, but I knew things would be okay. They always were.

One night, Joey's parents rang our bell. My dad opened the door.

"Joe, Marge, how are...." The smile crumpled off Dad's face.

Joey's father shoved a paper into my dad's hand, and ushered his crying wife onto the sofa.

"Hon, Joe and Marge are here. Come down here now," my dad called up the steps.

Mom rushed into the room, and saw Dad reading a telegram. Joey's parents were holding each other. "Oh my God!" Mom wailed and threw herself at Marge on the couch.

Dad hands shook as he read. "He's M I A? Missing in Action? Joe, Marge, that could be good. That just means he's separated from his unit, or he and some other guys are holed up somewhere with a busted radio, doesn't it?"

Joe, Sr. growled, "It means they don't know if he's dead but they haven't found his body, or if he's injured and dying in the jungle, or if he's in some hospital, so damaged they don't know who he is. He could be a P O W."

Marge and Mom started wailing in unison. I did nothing. I probably had the same expression on my face Dad did, since I was so much like him; stunned silence, no tears, no anguish; nothing. Numbness.

Finally, Dad said, "Maybe not. At least they haven't found his body, so he must be alive."

Joey's father spat, "Or blown to bits or burned beyond recognition or,..."

"Stop it!" Marge screamed. "Just stop it! This is my baby we're talking about! Mine! I carried him inside my body for nine months, pushed him out of me, and fed him from my breasts! Mine! You're supposed to be making this easier for me! Dammit! You're not helping!"

"Sue, would you get Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey some iced tea?" Dad asked in his dead voice.

Joey's mom wailed, "I don't want any damned iced tea! I want my baby back!"

I'm strong, or maybe I'm slow, but it finally sank in. I might never see my Joey again. I felt completely alone. Mom was awash in tears with Marge and Joe. I looked at Dad. I never saw such a look of pained love from him before. He helped me to the loveseat and held me while I cried. For the first time in my life, I saw him cry too.

Joey's parents went home when Marge ran out of tears. Joe helped her to her feet, kissed my mom on the cheek, shook Dad's hand, and then hugged me. "I'll call you or stop by every day, whether I hear anything or not. I know Joey wants me to do that."

When the front door closed, Mom said, "I need to go to bed." Dad followed her up to their room. I sat on the loveseat blowing my nose, wondering whether I would ever feel Joey's arms around me again. When I went upstairs, I was exhausted from crying, but I couldn't sleep. I paced, looked at photo albums, read his poems, and stared at his self-portrait he had painted for me. I cried for two days, trying to decide whether I could ever be happy again.

On the third day, my bos

Summer of '65: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Sat, 09 May 2026 17:14:00 +0000

Summer of ’65: Part 2

A more enjoyable way to study sex ed.

By Slowandeasy47. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The summer seemed to be racing by with lots of glorious days just messing about in boats, shooting at tin cans in the sea, and occasionally visiting Jess' house, to swim in their pool which, mercifully, was a lot warmer than the lough.

On one such occasion we were the only two there, as her family had gone out for the day. It was one of those beautiful days that only seem to happen when you are young. The sun blazed through the heavens and the sheltered area round the pool was baking.

We occasionally jumped in the pool to cool off before returning to our sun loungers to work on our tans where Jess usually undid her top when lying on her stomach.

"There is a fridge full of cokes in the pool house if you fancy one?" She suggested. I knew where it was, so I got up and wandered over, opened the door, and made my way to the giant American style fridge. I picked up two cokes, poured them into plastic pool glasses, before making my way back to the loungers.

Jenna was naked!

She was face down admittedly, tanning her back, but stark naked, just like she had been on our picnic trip.

"I figured you wouldn't mind as it's nothing you haven't seen before, and a bum's just a bum," she said with her mischievous smile and turned towards me to take the offered coke. As she did so, one pert tit, complete with little pink button nipple, escaped from its hiding place.

"Oops!" She said, tucking the offending mammary back under her. "You didn't see that did you." It was more of a statement than a question.

I knew better than to lie to the ever confident Jess, so I admitted that I had, which was quite obvious anyway from the rapid expansion taking place in my speedos, rendering me incapable of further speech.

"Never mind it was only my tit."

Only! Only a tit! There was no only about it. I had fantasized about Jess' tits ever since our picnic. The image was to last a long while and, to hide the obvious swelling, I threw myself face down onto the sun lounger. It didn't take much to provoke an erection back then.

"Get some sun on that bum. Take your trunks off!"

"I'm OK thanks."

"Prude. Too prude to be nude! You should let Harry out for some fresh air occasionally!" And burst out laughing.

I, of course, was now shamed into it and, very carefully, slid my trunks off. I cannot deny that it was a delicious feeling being naked outdoors again, the only problem being my erection.

"Too hot for me! Swim time," said the voice to my left. "And what's more, I'm not putting that lot on again just to get it wet." She rolled so that she was facing away from me, stood up, and I watched that glorious rear view of the naked female form make its way to the water. I even got a flash of that mysterious place between her legs as she dove into the pool.

Surfacing at the far end she called.

"You just have to try this.

"It's the most invigorating experience ever!

"If you're cowardly custard, I'll turn my back while you dive in.

"There's nothing to see once you're in anyway. The water is too rough.

"Come on in then Mr. prude in the nude!"

"Turn around then," said my voice before I had time to stop it, as I rose to the bait of her dare. She turned and within seconds I, complete with fully erect Harry, were in the air, mid dive.

I surfaced somewhat closer to her than I meant to, as my intention had been to stay at the other end, but I wasn't thinking straight. Hardly surprising seeing as it was only my second encounter with a naked woman and my first ever skinny dip. I hadn't even considered how we were going to get out.

"Race you!"

We raced. She won. Why? Maybe she was a better swimmer. Maybe the view up her thighs as she stroked out in front was irresistible. Maybe both! Either way we got to the shallow end out of breath and stood up in the waist deep water.

"Oops," she said lowering her pert little tits back into the water. "Forgot!"

I'm not certain that she did and I certainly didn't, nor will I ever! Both beautifully formed tits, displayed themselves to me, with their little pink nipples sticking out proudly due to the refreshingly cool water. I knew if I even touched my cock it would be game over.

It is hard, from this perspective, to remember the eroticism of such seemingly simple things. Going braless happened only in the south of France, going topless, only in St Tropez. This was the start of the 60s, no porn, no internet, just Harrison Marks and imagination.

Jenna tried her best to diffuse the situation by pretending not to notice and set off up the steps. I watched her bare back reemerge slowly from the water as she grasped the handles. I couldn't take my eyes off the two deliciously firm orbs of her buttocks as she climbed the steps. That vision will stay with me forever. She reached the top step, stepped onto the tiles, looked over her shoulder, with her hands on her hips, as she stood their dripping.

"Come on then!"

"I think I'll stay in for a while."

"Don't be daft! Your teeth are chattering already. Come on. Don't be such a prude!"

"I can't. Jenna, you're my friend, you're a wonderful girl, but you're naked and I'm naked and nature has taken over."

"You're not going to ravish me, are you?"

"Of course not."

"Well that's a relief." There was a hint of un-conveyed meaning in the way she said it. "I'll not look while you get to your towel."

She turned her back and I scrambled out, dashed for my towel and tried, in vain, to conceal Harry's obvious state of excitement. Meanwhile Jenna had managed to cover up with a towel as well.

We decided that that was enough for one day and headed for the pool house and our clothes, swathed, modestly for the first time that afternoon, in large towels. As the door to the pool house closed behind me, Jenna turned and said.

"If you're not going to ravish me, at least you might kiss me."

I couldn't believe it. Not because I didn't want to, but because I thought that any such move might ruin, what was for me, a nearly perfect relationship. I'd just been skinny dipping, for the first time and with a beautiful, confident and very sexy girl. My dreams had just become reality and my cock was still in awe.

I moved in towards her and gave a, probably very amateur, attempt at a snog. She responded by opening her mouth, so I followed suit. Her tongue darted in and out of my mouth, so I followed again. The snog got more and more passionate as it got more and more competent. Our hands started to explore each other as her towel fell away.

I felt one hand make its way down past my belly, as my towel also fell to the floor. I was in no doubt as to where it was going. For my part, I let my hand slide off her shoulder onto the front of her chest and from there down onto her tit. My other hand slid down the back of her petite frame and onto one of the delicious twin orbs of her toned buttocks.

I've got one hand on my first ever female tit, the other on a naked buttock. The stimulation in my brain is going overboard. The kiss continued as her hand made its way inexorably southwards. Eventually it will reach my cock. Oh my god, the sensations, the anticipation and, then sadly, the disappointment.

This was all too much for a first encounter. All those tales of young lads bonking for hours on their first shag are simply lies. She had only barely touched my cock when the inevitable happened. I ejaculated. I ejaculated in some style, but I still ejaculated and Harry started to soften.

While trying to make some excuse for my rapid response, her hand grasped my wrist and lead it down between us, over the soft outward curve of her belly, towards the little forest of hair between her legs.

"Rub me gently." She broke from the kiss for just long enough to say and then our mouths joined again.

My hand glided over her pubes and a finger slipped into the slick moistness of her excitement. I don't know what I expected, but nothing so delightfully slippery and exciting.

"Slowly and softly." Said the voice in my ear as she broke from the kiss again. I followed her lead and did as I was told. I sensed her excitement growing by the change in her breathing. Then I felt her nails dig into my shoulders as she breathed.

"Even slower.

"Even gentler.

"Yes.

"Just like that."

Followed by a sigh and slight buckling of the knees.

Seconds later a female voice shouted, "Hello in there."

"Oh shit. Shit. Shit. It's Paula. She often pops round for a swim on hot days. Quick."

We scrambled into our clothes as quickly as possible, the mood having been completely destroyed by our imminent discovery. As soon as we could we made our way outside, somewhat sheepishly.

To my horror the discarded swim suits had been neatly folded and placed on a sun-lounger. Paula pointed at them accusingly!

"Jenna, these were completely dry! Your hair is wet! You don't have to be Einstein to work out what's been going on. You just be bloody careful if you're going to play with big girls toys. I'm not ready to be aunty Paula yet." She turned and marched off.

Paula's words hit home hard.

"I don't want to be aunty Paula."

I am quite sure she didn't, but I'm even more certain that Jenna didn't want to be a mother and I certainly didn't want to be a father. In that era it would have been a 'had to get married' situation and my education was far from complete. Frankly it would have been a complete disaster for both of us, such were the attitudes of the day.

What if Jenna had let me go a bit further and had been willing to actually have sex? There is no doubt that my young cock had definitely got the message. Could I have resisted if it had been on offer? We had both been pretty wound up, and I suspect that mother nature would have had her way. Erections don't think!

Say we had just actually done it. Just imagine! The wait for the next period. What if it didn't come. Was she always regular, or could she sometimes just be late? These are not subjects we talked about in those days, unless of course, you had to.

What about the future? Was it possible we were going to get into that situation again? Two sexually mature people playing with fire, or even Russian roulette. Nature pretty well guaranteed that we were going to hit the jackpot sooner or later. Not that I'm assuming Jenna would even allow it, but what if?

I resolved to get hold of some condoms, or johnnies as they were known then, but how. We lived very remotely. The nearest village was within range but the pharmacist was a family friend, probably of her family as well. Even if I made sure he wasn't serving, could I face putting 'a packet of three' on the counter in front of his female assistant. I'd die of embarrassment.

I could just imagine the conversation later in the chemist shop.

"You know so and so's lad?"

"Yea, him."

"Well he came in today and bought some, ahem, Durex."

"No! I wonder where he plans to use them."

"Well there's not much option down his way."

"You mean 'her'?"

"Well, who else?"

"She wouldn't though, would she? She's such a well brought up girl and I doubt she'd do it before she was at least engaged."

The cerebral cinema ran on and got more and more embarrassing with every imagined exchange. No I would have to make my purchase elsewhere.

As luck would have it, my mother wanted to go shopping in a big town, well away from where we were known. She did show some surprise when I expressed an interest and wanted to go with her. Normally shopping and teenage boys do not go hand in hand.

We arrived, parked the car, and arranged to meet again in a couple of hours. I eventually singled out a chemist shop as my target and walked in. I had only been round the shelves once to try to locate the 'johnnies' when a very attractive young lady came up and said.

"Can I help you?"

Oh fuck! I can hardly say I want a packet of johnnies. She'll know I'm planning to: well yes, to fuck. She was young, she was pretty. I didn't have time to register her ring fingers but probably not married and therefore almost certainly a virgin, and I wanted to buy contraceptives. The embarrassment. So I bought a tube of toothpaste and left. While I was paying I noticed the johnnies were all on the shelf behind the till, Durex, Feather light and several others.

OK, so maybe I'm going to have to actually ask! I don't recall how many other chemists I checked out that day, but the answer was always the same. They were all kept behind the till, so I would definitely have to ask.

I eventually located a chemist with a middle aged lady serving. I thought, she doesn't know me and she'll never see me again, so what's the problem? I approached the till.

"Yes, can I help?"

Argh! The agony of it!

"A packet of feather-light please!"

She turned round to 'that' shelf and said.

"Three or twelve?"

Twelve? TWELVE? I'm a virgin. I've never used one before. Twelve, you must be joking.

"Mmm three please."

She reached for the packet and, mercifully, popped it into a little brown paper bag just as the next customer reached the counter. Did she see? Oh this is so embarrassing! Everyone in the world seems to know that I am planning to have a fuck. Can they tell that it's also going to be my first?

Ironically I am not really 'planning' to fuck. I am pretty sure that Jenna won't allow it but, just in case, I'm prepared. Besides, how do I explain to her that I've got johnnies. The implication is surely that I am assuming she is 'that type of girl' and would probably never speak to me again. Why is life so complicated?

The summer rolled on and, in spite of being nearly caught by Paula, we enjoyed each other's company at the pool and in the fields round about. Usually we stayed fully clothed or very nearly so, until one summer's afternoon when we took a picnic to some nearby ruins.

We spread a picnic blanket on the lush, un-mowed grass and ate our sandwiches. As the heat of the sun and the effect of the food took its toll we lolled in the grass talking about this and that and nothing very much.

"When do you head off for uni?" Was the reality check she came up with.

"September." I replied as I glanced across at her. Our eyes locked. She smiled showing her dimples to maximum effect. I leaned towards her, she leaned towards me, our eyes were still locked together as our lips met.

It was one of those glorious kisses that went on for ages, tongues darting in and out of each other's mouths, hands starting to wander, exploring the secrets of each other's bodies. Palms running over the smooth curve of firm buttocks. Hoping to explore under a T shirt. Success! A soft warm tit. The pressure on the front of my trousers as her hand stroked my obvious erection.

My hand made its way up her skirt. Hers found my zip. I ran my hand up her thigh all the way to the elasticized leg of her knickers. She unzipped me. My finger slid inside, to be greeted by the warm slipperiness of a sexually excited woman. My cock sprang free from its cotton prison. Then suddenly it all stopped as she broke the silence.

"Paula's right you know.

"We must be careful.

"I really want to do it with you. I want you to be my first.

"But we can't unless..."

"Unless I get 'something'?" I filled in the blank space.

"Yes, until then."

I was way too embarrassed to admit I had 'something' already, although my throbbing cock and millions of years of evolution were aching to satisfy the urge to reproduce.

"I will." I whispered, relieved that the problem of why I had johnnies had gone away, but with a raging erection that had only one cure.

We petted. We snogged. We explored each other. I rubbed her how she had showed me at the pool house that day. She played with my cock, pulling the foreskin back and forth really gently. It just got sexier and sexier. Then the inevitable happened. I ejaculated.

"Next time." She said. "I want to feel that inside. To know what it feels like."

"Next time." I repeated.

We tidied up, trying our best to remove the semen from her skirt. We eventually hit on the idea of coke. It would leave a worse mark and so be a reason for the skirt being in the wash after only one wear.

I went home and put the pack of Feather light back in its hiding place, keeping one tucked under my pillow for a test run later. I read and re read the instructions.

Tear open the foil packet.

Check the condom has the ridge on the outside.

Pinch the tip closed to make room for the semen.

Roll it on to the penis.

After sex, withdraw immediately holding the condom on the penis.

Discard the used condom.

When I went to bed I removed the packet from under my pillow. A few thoughts of Jenna's soft tit and wet panties had me hard in no time. I pinched the end and rolled it on.

So far so good! A few gentle strokes later while reminiscing about Jenna's gloriously slippery sex and bingo. A condom full of semen. I now saw why you pinched the end, it was distended with the evidence of my pleasure.

I removed it and made my way to the loo, chucked it in and flushed. Luckily I waited to check all was well because it floated! It was still there! Several more attempts produced the same result.

I cannot leave it there! In the end I fished it out, wrapped it in a few sheets of loo roll and tried again: success! This learning curve was getting very steep.

Jenna and I decided to set a date, and a scene. There was to be no fumbling about in the back seat of a car, we were planning to do it properly, in a bed, but where, how, when? I carried my remaining two johnnies with me whenever we were together, just in case.

We had several false starts, usually abandoned for fear of discovery,

Summer of '65: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Fri, 08 May 2026 17:12:00 +0000

Summer of ’65: Part 1

English boarding school boy shares a lake, and more.

By Slowandeasy47. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The closeted life of a boy's boarding school in Yorkshire, with its Dickensian regime, and early morning runs, had ill prepared me for contact with the opposite sex. I knew the physical differences of course, Harrison Marks and Health and Efficiency were the sex educators for boys in the early nineteen sixties.

So what did we know way back then. Well, Health and Efficiency had ensured we knew about tits, that they came in different shapes and sizes and they almost always involved the throwing of a beach ball at some nudist camp.

How he ever managed to get those pictures in our climate completely eluded us but that didn't matter. We had pictures of breasts, or tits as we called them. The word boobs was years away in the future.

It was the lower half of the pictures that failed us, the men always had their backs to the camera and the girls just had a uniform, airbrushed area between their legs. Not a pubic hair in sight, and certainly no hint of a vagina. Did girls grow pubic hair? We didn't know for sure, and what went on between their legs was a complete mystery.

Actually, in the mid-sixties, that was pretty irrelevant as our interest was focused on tits. We all longed to touch one, to feel it's texture and marvel at it, was it soft and squishy, or was it firm and hard? The thought of actual sex was still considered as something girls would allow only once they were married, as an unwanted pregnancy was going to ruin both your lives. It certainly never occurred to us that girls might enjoy it.

By now you must be getting a picture of the public face of sex in the early sixties. Among teenage boys there was no knowledge, no porn worthy the name, not even soft core magazines, and definitely no internet. We hoped for a fumble at a party, and the absolute height of our ambition was to be allowed to feel inside her panties, but that was less likely than a moon landing then. Actually just to touch the thigh above the silken top of her stockings was the stuff of many a masturbation fantasy and masturbation was something we were quite expert at.

Term had just ended and I was looking forward to the long summer holiday in my new home. While I was at school my parents had moved to a remote corner of the countryside, six miles from the nearest village and with very few other houses around. It was not only remote, it was actually an island.

It all sounds very Robinson Crusoe but it wasn't really like that. Several other families lived on the island which was joined to the mainland by a causeway. There was plenty to explore and do, including an old monastery, rabbits to shoot at, if not actually hit, boats to mess about in and so on. So life for a teenage boy was pretty good and it was about to get a whole lot better.

Walking over the hills one sunny afternoon I was hailed by a female voice.

"Shot anything then?"

"No," I replied. "I'm much better at hitting bottles than rabbits." And that is how I first met Jenna. Jenna was short and petite with a beguiling smile that produced dimples in both cheeks. Her very dark hair framed her boyish face and her eyes sparkled.

I, of course, was just about completely tongue tied. This apparition was a girl! A girl who was chatting to me as if we came from the same planet, which in those days, we most certainly did not. Anyway, somehow I got over the shock of talking to a real girl. We introduced ourselves and over the next few weeks actually became friends.

We walked over the hills together, boated together and spent a lot of time in each other's company. We were the only two youngsters, of our age group, for miles around.

Late in July, Jenna suggested we take the boat to one of the many other islands for a picnic. Most of these islands could be walked around in an hour, had ruins of long forgotten farms and were simply fun to explore. A little more Robinson Crusoe, if you like.

It was a stunning day with clear blue skies and the promise of being a real scorcher. I naturally, took a big towel and my swimming trunks along with our fairly rudimentary picnic.

We got into our craft, which was little more than a fiberglass rowing boat with a tiny outboard engine, and put putted for about fifteen minutes to the largest of the nearby islands. I, of course, as the boy, sat at the back in control while Jenna lolled about in the bow trailing her hand in the water.

I tried not to look. I tried so hard not to look, but there was an awful lot of leg on display right up to the frayed edges of her skimpy shorts, and my mind set about wondering what went on just out of my sight. What was it that was only just hidden by those shorts?

I realized my thoughts were running away with me as I felt the stirring of an erection. Oh no! Fuck it, please no. Not now. Not here. So I looked around at the scenery, the water, actually anything that would take my mind of those silken thighs.

It worked: just, and by the time we reached our destination my penis was behaving itself. This could have been such a disaster as Jenna was my only friend and she was really good company. She was also very self-assured, which I put down to her being a couple of years older than me.

We 'explored' the island, wandering through the deserted ruins, wondering who lived here, when and what they did for a living. The island was so small it can hardly have provided an income. We ate our rudimentary picnic in the sun, sheltered from the breeze coming up the lough, by the corner of a ruined barn and chatted idly about nothing in particular.

It was a hot sultry afternoon and I don't remember who made the suggestion, but it was agreed that a swim would be a really good idea, to cool off. The lough was hardly known for its warm waters as most of it was replaced each high tide by water straight out of the ocean, but it would certainly cool us.

So we went for a swim, after modestly changing into our swimming kit with the aid of large towels and convenient walls. The water was cold: bloody cold, hardly surprising in mid-July, but what had seemed like a great idea quickly turned into something of a torture session.

We swam around for a while and, as expected, the water was freezing.

"Bit refreshing!" Said Jenna, as she made a few powerful strokes away from the rocky shore, "in fact a little too refreshing for me." And she struck out for the shallows again. I, not being conscious of any etiquette, got to the shore first.

She struggled a bit over the larges pebbles and, as she passed me, I couldn't help noticing how much her nipples were sticking out. I'd never heard of this phenomenon before and certainly never witnessed it. I was fascinated: too fascinated.

"Hey! Stop staring at my tits will you."

"I wasn't." I lied, somewhat unconvincingly.

"You were too! I saw you. Eyes out on stalks!"

"No really." I blustered trying vainly to cover my embarrassment.

I had grown very fond of Jenna, in a brotherly way. OK I admit it: I fancied her but I wasn't about to ruin our friendship by being stupid.

I loved spending time with her: she was so worldly, such fun to be with and now I was in danger of spoiling it all just by ogling her tits. Her rather delightful, and obviously delicious looking, tempting to touch, young tits.

"Actually, I was. I'm sorry. You just took me by surprise. I'm really sorry. I'm such a woolly."

"Don't worry. It's no big deal. It's not as if I was naked or you were peeking at me getting changed or anything."

That, of course, sent the image of her standing there dripping wet totally naked, dancing through my brain. What were those lovely little tits like to ogle or even to touch? What went on between her legs? What did a vagina look like in real life?

My day dream would have had a disastrous effect on my cock had the water not been so cold. I climbed out and we dried ourselves off. We spread our towels out, side by side, on the long grass in order to warm up with a bit of sunbathing.

"Anyway, it's natural to be curious," she continued, "it wouldn't be normal not to look." The relief at being let off the hook was enormous and I stammered something inane before she came out with.

"So what do you call a man looking at a naked girl?" She continued. The brazenness of the question took me by surprise and I failed to register that it was a joke.

"Don't know."

"Anything you like! He's not listening." She chortled at her own wit and I joined in. She lay face down on her towel and unhooked the top of her bikini. This was too much, I immediately rolled on to my stomach so as not to reveal my growing excitement. "No peeking at my tits now."

"No of course not."

"Lying bastard!"

"Jenna?"

"Yea?"

"How come you're so confident and relaxed?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well you just caught me ogling you and now you're making it a bit of a joke."

"Probably because you are a bit prudish."

"Prudish! Me?"

"Yes you. You were ogling my tits and then tried to deny it. I've got tits, you haven't, you're curious. So what's so wrong with that. Don't think I haven't taken a peek at the front of your swimming trunks from time to time. Anyway I know things about boys from Paula."

"Paula?"

"Paula is my big sister. She's six years older than me and we chat. You know girl stuff."

"Mmmm?"

"Paula got married a year ago and we still chat about girl stuff."

"Hmm?."

"I'll tell you more, if you tell me stuff about you."

"What sort of stuff?"

"Well I'll tell you about my chats with Paula if you promise to keep it a secret for the rest of your life and if you tell me, absolutely honestly, the answer to the next questions. OK?"

"Sure." I said feeling a little vulnerable but a too curious to turn down such an offer.

"Paula told me that the doctor gave her the pill just before she got married and that when they went on honeymoon they did it all the time. First thing in the morning, last thing at night and several times in between. She said the feelings were fantastic and much better than just touching yourself."

I am lying on my stomach, next to a pretty girl who is, at best, half naked describing her sister's sex life. The tension was nearly unbearable.

"So my question is. When you are, you know, excited and touching yourself. I mean rubbing your thingy, what do you think about?" Shocked! And trapped! She had just asked me about my fantasies, and I had agreed to play a truth game.

"Do I have to answer?" I said, playing for time.

"Of course you do. You promised. That was the bargain." I summoned up my courage with all my strength.

"Mostly tits." I said with a dry mouth.

"You naughty boy. I bet you are going to rub yourself tonight and I bet my tits will feature in your fantasy."

"Sorry, but you did ask." Ducking what could be a very awkward moment.

"Paula says she rubs Dave when she's on the curse. He plays with her tits while she rubs his cock and, er; by the way what do you call it? Your cock, your dick or what?"

"Harry." I said the first word that entered my head. She burst out laughing.

"Harry! You call it Harry!" More peals of laughter.

"No not really, that was just a joke. I suppose cock or prick usually."

"Well from now on its Harry to me." And she dissolved into laughter again.

"Just think of the fun I can have with that. I can say 'How is Harry today?' Anytime, anywhere and only the two of us will know that I'm talking about your cock. That's priceless!"

"It was supposed to be a joke. You were telling me about Paula."

"Yea, well she rubs his 'Harry'." More laughter, "till he; you know, Jizzes then touches herself until she's satisfied. So next question. How often do you play with Harry?"

"What?"

"You heard. How often do you play with Harry! You have had two bits of information so I get two questions. Out with it: how often?"

"Quite a lot."

"Quite a lot is not a number. You promised me an answer. Now give."

"Well, probably most days."

"Oh good, I'm normal then."

"What!"

"Me too. So it's normal. I thought I might be over doing it, but it's such a delicious feeling I just can't resist."

This was getting out of control. I was having a conversation, with a lovely girl, both half naked, and we were discussing our masturbation habits: bizarre.

"Have you ever sunbathed in the nude?" I was definitely not ready for this question.

"No, I haven't."

"Well you really out to. It's such a wonderful feeling having the sun on your bare skin, particularly your bum. I do it all the time by our pool.

"We could do it now, staying on our stomachs of course. I mean you have a bum and I have a bum. Bums are just bums after all, not particularly interesting."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea." I croaked, lying on my now full blown erection thinking that Jenna's bum would be far from 'not very interesting.'

"Cowardly, coward custard. I tell you what, I'll take my bottoms off first if you promise me, on your honor, you will do it too." And she slipped her thumbs into her bikini bottoms and eased them over her buttocks, such taught, firm, exercised, firm buttocks, and somehow got them off without revealing anything more intimate. "Your turn!"

"Hang on. I never agreed to this."

"Well you didn't disagree: so you agreed. Now off with them or I'll tell Paula what a spoil sport you are."

This was my first introduction to the somewhat woolly area of female logic. I knew I had agreed to no such thing, but she was lying there naked, admittedly face down, but naked, and I found the idea very stimulating, and so did my errant cock, who found the whole experience extremely erotic.

I followed her example and slipped my trunks down to my knees, having struggled to get the waist band over the rather obvious protrusion. I shifted sideways, back towards her, to complete the task and dropped onto my stomach as quickly as possible: stark naked and with the firmest, most rigid erection of my young life.

"Good, isn't it?" She said and I had to admit that the warmth of the sun on my bum was a truly delicious feeling: so wickedly naughty.

"You know what happens next, don't you?"

By this time I was getting truly concerned as to what might happen next. A few years later and with more experience, I would have been delighted with this situation, but this was my first encounter with a naked girl and I have to admit I was petrified, but in a most enjoyable way. Without waiting for an answer she continued. "We go skinny dipping!"

My jaw must have fallen a foot because she burst out laughing. "Oh your face! What a picture! Only joking, but the look on your face was priceless. I told you, you were a prude."

Before I could muster my thoughts I fell straight into the trap. The words "I am not a prude." Escaped my lips just as I realized what I had said.

"Prove it!"

"How?"

"Show me Harry," she chortled.

"I will not!"

"Prude!"

"Well you're a prude too, lying there face down." I retorted.

"Not at all. I'll roll over if you roll over!" And I'd just fallen into another trap but it was my turn to seize the advantage.

"You first!" I thought I'd gained the upper hand, but it was short lived.

"No both together. On the count of three we both roll right over, as quickly as we can, back onto our tums. There will hardly be time to see anything: OK?"

"Er......"

"Prude!"

"No. No. OK."

"One, two."

"No, stop. Stop. I'm not ready. Give me a second or two. Er......OK"

"One, two, THREE!"

The next few seconds seemed to last a lifetime and are emblazoned on my memory forever. The swiftest of rolls presented me with a view of my first real pair of tits. Oh such beautiful, magnificent tits. Small, pert, little tits, that were to become my favorite shape and size forever. Such is the power of that first encounter.

A much more impressive surprise however, was the mass of pubic hair, dark brown, curly hair in a perfect triangle, that concealed the secrets at the join in her thighs. How I managed to register this much information in the time available is a credit to the power of human observation, but register it did.

I was so intrigued by the whole spectacle that I temporarily forgot about my own nakedness. My teenage penis sprang free from the safety of its lair between my stomach and the ground and with all the enthusiasm that only a teenage penis can muster, pointed proudly skywards to the full scrutiny of Jenna's curious gaze.

The exposure, mercifully, was short lived as I completed the roll over on to my stomach, trapping my errant member once again between the ground and my stomach.

Jenna was the first to react with a characteristic chortle, but my teenage brain was still trying to compute what it had seen. The flashes of tit and pubic hair caused all my reproductive urges to go into overdrive and without so much as a touch a familiar feeling mounted in my groin.

I knew what was about to happen and had no way of controlling it. The feeling intensified rapidly and I ejaculated violently into my towel. I still remember the intensity. I had had orgasms before, but only through masturbating. This was on a whole new level: the sensation was indescribable and within seconds my cock, having done the job nature intended it to do, shrank back to its flaccid state.

You may recall that Jenna and I had taken a small boat to a nearby island for a picnic. Jenna is older than I, and much more worldly w

The Flu: A Pandemic Escape on a Sex Farm

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Thu, 07 May 2026 17:10:00 +0000

The Flu: A Pandemic Escape on a Sex Farm

Lusty young immigrants escape global plague on a Wisconsin farm.

By MVP6. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Ustin and Manon met while on holiday in Prague and fell in love at first sight. Ustin was Russian and Manon was French. He loved Manon's impulsive ways and she loved his strong resilience. They were the poster-couple for young beauty, love, and little more than dreams.

Other than the language of love the only words they shared in common were a smattering of Portuguese. Nevertheless, theirs was a whirlwind romance ending in engagement after two short weeks.

They were back in Shuvalovka by the end of the next week, getting married the very next morning.

That was the day a letter arrived from Manon's uncle in America whom she had only met once as a small girl. Neither of them could read English and when they had it interpreted they learned that he had passed away and left them a small dairy farm in Wisconsin, a plane ticket, and a French/English phrase book.

Ustin sold his '64 Zaporozhet, emptied his bank account, and liquidated all his assets, which were not worth much since the collapse of the Russian stock market. Together they had enough to buy another plane ticket and embarked that same morning.

Manon was seated in first class while Ustin was relegated to third class, but they were overjoyed at least to be on the same plane. If they had known about the mile high club there is no doubt that they would have consummated their, as yet, unconsummated marriage. Alas they were just thrilled to be starting a new life together. Their plan being to first establish financial security, and only then to have children.

When they arrived in Milwaukee Ustin was worried that they wouldn't have enough money left to take a cab to their new farm - let alone buy anything to eat, and he did his best to communicate that to Manon.

She had no cares about food, being so engrossed in her new role as blushing bride. But she was very worried, for no good reason, that if Ustin did not take her virginity officially as a married couple that they would be deported. She had spent the whole flight looking through her phrasebook trying to find the right words for "deflowering."

By the time she told Ustin what she wanted and he tried to look it up using his recently purchased English/Russian phrasebook, what he understood was that she wanted him to weed her cat.

He just smiled weakly and drew her close in a warm embrace, but since she was pointing frantically to her pussy, he imagined that 'weeding the cat' meant she wanted him to bury his face in her pubes as soon as possible.

He had no objection to throwing her back on their new honeymoon bed the first instant they arrived in Cambridge, WI to then 'graze the watercress,' which would have been the french way to say it if any of the risque words at all had been in his phrasebook, or if either of them owned a Russian/French phrasebook.

Full of excitement and fear they held hands, as only new lovebirds would, and never let go until he carried her across the threshold.

True to his understanding of her expectations Ustin promptly carried Manon to the bed, threw up her dress, and lapped studiously at her moist nether lips until she, taking a fistful of hair in each hand, pulled him up.

She could taste her own pussy on his lips and it turned her on, though Ustin would not know that for quite a while, and at the moment, he was put off because she was rummaging around in her purse - trying to retrieve some condoms.

Their first time as newlyweds in their new home was amazing as they explored each other's bodies and each other's desires. Perhaps it was even better as they could barely talk and they needed to rely on moans and smiles that much more to know what the other liked.

Next they explored the farm and discovered that they had inherited a dairyless dairy farm. If they could have read English they would have found the letter from the animal control officer at the police department telling dead Uncle Charles that all the animals had been impounded because they were being neglected and that they would be returned after a hefty fine was paid.

Still, they were the proud owners of a farmhouse, a barn, a shed and a few miscellaneous buildings on about ten acres of beautiful midwest rolling fields, and they fucked in each building as well as in the middle of the fields the first week.

That first year was a year of unbridled sex which at least once included a zuchinni from the garden that Manon had planted so they could set up a farmers market and earn some money to buy cows. No one ever came to their market as they were a bit out of the way, but Manon did manage to can about two hundred pounds of vegetables and store the jars in the tornado shelter.

One day they were passing the empty mink cages which came with the farm and Ustin was grinning stupidly and gesturing rudely that they should make like the minks and screw wildly.

Always ready, Manon grinned, and that was all it took. They shed their shirts rapidly, then impulsively Manon decided it would be fun to climb the ladder up to the loft. Shaking her skirt she beckoned, "Attrapez-moi." Then wiggling her butt enticingly she flashed her cunt to her dear husband and he scrambled up as fast as he could, sticking his nose amid her aromatic cleft from underneath her on the ladder every time he caught up.

Playing the game she would let him lick her puss for a few minutes each time before scrambling further up the rackety ladder. They were a very orally inclined couple, which worked in their favor whenever they were far from the bedroom, where they kept their limited, and expensive, supply of condoms.

Rolling in the proverbial hay, soon enough they were pleasuring each other simultaneously. For the first time ever she saw another person's back door. Glimpsing his tight bung briefly she wasn't grossed out, rather, she was worried that he would see hers and that he would be grossed out.

Likewise, Ustin did see hers but his only thought was, "It's surprising that it's not a turn off." They still finished each other off taking the time to burrow into each other's privates at length.

Unfortunately, it was later when they jumped down from the loft naked, that they both sprained an ankle and found themselves housebound for a couple of weeks. It was also one of the best things that could have happened to them.

Not only did they recline in each other's arms all day and make love often, but they couldn't make any trips into town which had, unknown to them, quickly taken a dangerous turn.

A flu pandemic had begun that day they kissed each others' sex parts in the loft and it was spreading rapidly to anyone who was unlucky enough to interact with just about anyone.

By day two, 20% of the nation had what was not an ordinary flu and some with weakened systems were already developing pneumonia or dying from other complications.

By day five, and unknown to the young lovers, the TV they rarely watched, was advising all citizens to stay home and warning that the health department would be out culling chickens who were the source of the flu.

The frisky couple never even knew that the army-green jeeps and an old commandeered truck, arrived to kill and pick up chickens. You see, at the time Manon was bent over an odd apparatus in the water-shed with Ustin's tongue delicately circling and stabbing at her cute pink asshole.

Anilingus was minutes new to both of them since they had just discovered it. They didn't even know what it was called in any language let alone with any shared words.

Only two hours before They had been wandering the North pasture when it started to drizzle and they happened upon the stone structure built over a stream. Inside they found an odd mechanism and with some experimentation figured out that it's purpose was to divert the stream so it flowed either East or West.

That's not really relevant to the story. What was pivotal was that, while turning a large wheel made from a barrel, Manon had fallen prone across the device and screamed out as she slipped. Ustin, with his developing English, misunderstood her emerging English. Thinking she had blurted out something meaning, "Tongue my ass" as she threw herself over the barrel, he decided it was a brilliant suggestion and put himself to the delightful task immediately.

Meanwhile, finding herself in danger of being rolled over to the other side she shrieked joyfully when he grabbed her by the hips. She was totally shocked, but pleasantly surprised, when with a pucker he kissed her sensitive sphincter. She didn't know enough about sex to think it either mundane or bizzare. After the first swipe at her delicate brownie he asked, "Da?"

She spoke that much Russian, and he knew enough French to throw himself into the act when she replied, "Oui! Oui!"

Together the lovers learned that they really craved the act, so he spent a considerable amount of time just licking her gratified asshole.

Ustin was thinking, "Amazing how every part of my girl is so sexy, from her smile to her toes, she's the best. It's strange how even her shitter turns me on. A woman's pussy is an obvious and natural object to worship with its enticing odor and soft lips. But for as much as I love to nibble and bite, pulling on her labia, it's just as great to get my lips on her arse."

"Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine that I would lick a girl's butt, but Manon is so special and her crinkled ring just draws me in." He took a deep inhalation, "Marvelous! Even her ass smells good. Earthy and musty but fresh. I want more."

He decided to run his tongue around it in circles, feeling the tiny donut shape. "It's incredible how this majestic feast normally has such a base function. I can't get over the rubbery firm texture - so different from her kiska."

He wondered if he could get his tongue inside like he did when he ate her quim. Backing off a few inches he used his fingers to massage her perineum and anus. Then getting one thumb on either side he stretched it out barely able to see inside. "OK let's see if I can get my tip in there. If it's ever gonna taste bad, now will be the time." Talking out loud he spoke to himself in Russian,

"Are you ready Ustin?"

Listening to him talk to himself back there, Manon had her own conversation going even if it consisted almost entirely of mewling moans and delighted sighs. In perfect Portuguese she whimpered the most appropriate phrase she could think of that he would know, "Do you like your dinner?"

Ustin laughed out loud, breaking the mood of raw sexuality briefly. Then also in Portuguese he answered, "You are a most hospitable host." Then returned to his quest to meld his mouth with her rectum. He formed his tongue into a point then poked.

Manon squealed, lifting her bum.

He barely got any in her but wanting to have a penetrative experience he rubbed two lanky fingers along her newly stubbled puss, In broken English he asked, "You want me finger to your mog?"

She had no idea what he meant but she was willing to surrender herself to whatever he desired. To express her openness she relied again on a Portuguese phrase, "My house is your house."

Wetting two of his fingers, with the unpracticed thrust of one fairly new to sex, he jammed them fully up her fanny. She jumped in surprise, partly due to the sudden vaginal intrusion but mostly because she was expecting him to slide a single finger up what she would have called her trou du cul.

He continued to lap at her starfish fucking her gash with his fingers. He became engrossed in the crude pastime letting his lust carry him away. When her body went tense he worried that he was hurting her in his wild sexual frenzy, then realized she was having an orgasm from the combined anilingus and fingerbanging.

Overjoyed to have found a new way to bring her off he fell back on his haunches, satisfied.

Coming down from her high, Manon wanted to do something for him now. Turning around she fell to the floor with her back to the wheel. She beckoned for Ustin to stand before her, pulling him by the cock.

Manon was hardly more experienced than Ustin in the ways of sex. Her one previous boyfriend had wanted to face-fuck her which she had not allowed. But now she wanted to give all of herself, in every way, to this man she loved.

She formed a circle with her left thumb and forefinger then using the forefinger from her other hand she made the universal gesture for fucking.

Ustin stepped forward presenting his hard cock to her mouth. But she wasn't done yet. Next using the same gesture she slammed her finger into the circle violently hoping to communicate what she was offering.

He was sure he was reading her wrong and definitely didn't want to hurt the woman he loved. But she insisted saying, "Bes moi! Bes moi! Bes moi!", pounding on the barrel.

He moved even closer inserting his swollen cock into her mouth. They were both full of expectation as she grabbed his thighs pulling him deeply into the back of her mouth quickly.

Towing above her, with his hands on the barrel, he was thrilled that he had married such a sexual wife.

They were both mistaken and they learned it the hard way. Manon gagged and sputtered completely unable to accomplish what she'd imagined she would do for him.

He pulled out, falling to his knees. Looking into her teary eyes he rained penitent kisses all over her tortured face. They both apologized to each other profusely in their respective languages and they both understood intuitively what the other meant.

After hugs of reconciliation she regained her composure. She pointed to her lips saying, "R essayons"

As thrilled as he had been a moment before to be married to such a sexpot he was a thousand times more thrilled now to be married to a more naive girl who loved him so selflessly.

Standing up he stroked her face gently before presenting his now softened organ to her.

She drew his dick into her mouth, inexpertly sucking on the first couple inches until she was rewarded with her first taste of cum.

Looking down on her, awestruck, as she swallowed, there was never a more earnest feeling of admiration communicated from one human to another.

Afterwards they held each other.

Now, if they had brought condoms with them they might have just screwed and been done with it. But then they would have returned to the farmhouse much earlier and met the infected visitors.

The national guard found no chickens and left without incident, doing no more damage than nailing a poster to the front door that Ustin had so carefully painted red with a stylish and artistic barn-star.

One morning, 'Котенок', or 'kitten', as Ustin called her woke him with a fantastic and more practiced blowjob, then wiping her lips with the back of her hand, lazily rolled over to turn on the TV for the first time in a while.

Slowly it dawned on them both that something was terribly wrong with the outside world. Secluded in their own little love nest they did not know that 40% of the population had gotten sick and they did not realize that 80% of the sick had died. While they knew little English they understood the terrifying math perfectly. Additionally, the images on TV painted a horrible picture of what was happening which to them seemed like the end of the world.

That was also the same day that, first the TV, and then the electricity went out. By the 15th day of the pandemic there were no more airplanes in the sky and even several miles away from the main part of Cambridge the world was eerily silent by day and oddly dark at night.

Manon and Ustin held each other close during the long nights and clung to each other as they had never done before. The house was cold and they cuddled for warmth as much as for reassurance.

Kitten cried bitterly and refused to let Ustin walk into town to see what was happening, so he stayed home rather than drag her along, hanging onto his arms, which is what she would have done to stop him.

Instead with his shirt off he worked up a sweat and an appetite cutting firewood to heat the house at night. Manon hugged him from behind as he took a break enjoying the slipperiness of his sexy body glistening and

tanned in the sun.

The electric water pump hadn't worked in weeks and they both smelled musky but then again they had learned to appreciate the various smells produced by their young and hard sexy bodies. Her tiny hand reached into his zipper and worked his hefty growing member into a full state of arousal.

She pressed her firm and pert boobs against his back while he reached back and held her waist.

Out by the fallen log,and yet again lacking any birth control, she turned, then rubbed his pre-cumm slicked foreskin sheathed cock against her rear door to communicate her intent...

The next day they walked to the water-shed carrying a water bucket and wearing nothing but shoes, then made sad, sweet love, again on the barrel, as much to connect as to relieve tension, worry, and, a touch of lust, that wouldn't go away even in those dire times.

The next couple of weeks they imagined the worst. Thinking they were the only couple left on earth, a modern day 'Adam and Eve,' they toiled hard all day long working the incomplete farm to make provisions for the winter.

They continued to make love every night to cement their love as much as for any other reason. They began to make forays away from the farm to see what they could learn. The nearest neighbor's house was a mile and a half away; nothing was there.

Depressed and numb they walked further toward town not even remembering to put on clothes as they had become accustomed, in the early fall heat and lacking air conditioning, to go nude.

Nearing another house they again found no one, but seeing some wash on the line, they realized they should dress. Nothing fit and they shared a fit of hysterical laughter to break the somber mood.

Deeply disheartened they went home without walking the last ten miles into town, discarding the ridiculous and comical clothing as they went.

The next morning, just before sunrise Котенок woke Usty and pulled him outside to be a witness to the new day. She had a small spade with her and as solemnly as she could buried all their remaining condoms. Offering him a page torn from his phrasebook he saw that she had circled the word "repopulate."

After a lunch of kislaya kapusta also known as sauerkraut, they disrupted their routine of constant work to do what they had never done before; vaginal sex without protection.

A Divine Marital Intervention

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Thu, 07 May 2026 02:11:00 +0000

A couple gets a gift from God

By Masterful_Husband. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Like a lot of people, I met my wife in college. We were in the same dorm and fell into that common dating circle trap where everyone is dating everyone. It wasn’t until we left for separate grad schools that we realized how much we meant to each other. It’s ironic that our relationship got more serious as we dated long distance but it worked well for us. I asked her to marry me when we graduated and we were wedded and honeymooning within six months.

I’d say our marriage was idyllic but that would be a lie. There was one issue that kept coming up over and over as a source of friction. My wife would tell you that we were “unevenly yoked”. I would say, “She’s religious and I wasn’t.”

We had discussed it (at great length) when we dated. I wasn’t some militant atheist. Those people have elevated that belief to an absurd level. I was an agnostic. I believed that disproving God was as futile as believing in one. I remember one memorable conversation my wife (then fiancée) and I had.

“I kind of admire people of faith,” I’d said.

She propped herself up on one elbow, looking at me with some excitement. “Really?”

I nodded, “Truly. I just can’t make myself believe in something so, ephemeral. Unverifiable. You know?”

“You believe in my love, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Isn’t it just as ephemeral?”

I kissed her, “No. You show me how much you love me every day.”

“So does God. You just have to know where to look.” The certainty in her voice was compelling but not persuasive.

I sighed, trying to avoid a fight, “I, I understand why you say that but I don’t see it that way. I do see wonderful, amazing things in this world but I also see plenty of reasonable, non-divine, explanations. On top of that, I don’t see why Christianity has to be the only answer. I mean, Have you made an extensive study of all major religions? Maybe there’s another out there that’s more internally consistent than Christianity?”

She frowned, “Danny, do you think I only believe because of some myopic view of the Bible?”

“Um, This feels like a trap,” I said, grinning and trying to defuse the situation.

“It’s not. Look,” she said sitting up. Her pert little breasts were bare in front of me but I tried not to focus on them. She didn’t help when she grabbed the gold cross that nestled between them and spun it. “This is just a symbol. The Bible is the instruction manual. But God is all around me. He talks to me. He saved me.”

“I will consider it,” I said and kissed her again. I was hopeful for another round of lovemaking. My wife is incredibly devout and spiritual but, thankfully, not particularly dogmatic. Sex before marriage wasn’t off the table which I was truly grateful for in those days because, frankly, it was incredible.

“One more thing. I know you don’t believe, yet,” she added with a smile, “But I need to know that you’re not going to close yourself off to this.”

“What do you mean,” I asked.

“I just want to know you’ll keep an open mind. Maybe try out some churches with me from time to time. Okay?”

I nodded. I didn’t really love going to church but I didn’t hate it. Over the years, plenty of my friends had tried to convince me so I’d gotten used to it. “How about once a month?”

Karen smiled, “Plus Christmas and Easter?”

I smiled back, “Sure,” I said and kissed her. We did make love again that night and in the morning. And the pledge wasn’t forgotten. After we got married we tried out a bunch of different churches. Karen’s lack of doctrinaire adherence meant that she was perfectly fine trying out lots of different flavors of church. She was always hoping to find one that I felt comfortable with. She prayed every night for me, often peeking out of one eye in a manner that made me think she expected a bolt of lightning to change me right in front of her eyes. We continued like that for years. We were happy but there was always this small little wedge between us. We both felt it and we both hated it but there was no changing either of us.

We moved to Seattle when we both found jobs in the area. I had just turned 29 and my wife’s 30th birthday was right around the corner. We were both very happy and Karen now had a whole new batch of churches to try out on me. Some days I thought that was the only reason she agreed to the move. After about six months, she found this Presbyterian church just outside of the city. I think of it as the Goldilocks church. It wasn’t a big mega church, nor was it a little dinky church. The congregation was neither geriatric nor were they a bunch of new age hippies. The pastor was impassioned but not fire and brimstone, us vs. them, burn the gays. It was one of the few churches that she’d brought me to that didn’t make my skin crawl when I walked in. It felt like a family without feeling like a cult.

“I like this place,” I whispered to Karen as we found our seats. A couple a little older than us greeted us. There were kids running around and just a general sense of community that pervaded the church.

I listened to a sermon that day that changed my life in ways I couldn’t even fathom. If I’m being truthful, I don’t even really remember the sermon, however. My mind wandered and I thought about all the different things that I’d seen and learned. Something changed in me during that hour and I knew I believed suddenly. It sounds cliché to say that the will of God worked its way into my heart but given what happened later that night, I think that’s probably what happened.

What I do remember from the service was the pastor’s closing prayer. “Lord, I don’t know a lot of things but I want to know what you’re willing to show me. Just help me learn how to know you, Lord.” For the first time ever, I said the words silently but earnestly. They seemed like perfect words for me.

We drove home in silence as I contemplated what was happening. I was too terrified to tell Karen. I didn’t want to get her hopes up in case it wasn’t what I thought. Maybe I’d just eaten something odd the night before or something, right? But for the rest of the day, I felt it tugging on my mind. There was still uncertainty but now there was a quest for learning more mixed in.

That night, Karen knelt at the foot of the bed, just as she’d done every night since we’d gotten married and said her own prayers. “Lord, you know my heart. You know what I want. I pray for Danny and that you will work your will on him. And Lord, that other silent prayer that I’ve been saying for years. I’m ready for that too. I’ve been putting conditions on it and that’s not right. Please Lord, I trust you completely.”

That last part confused me. I’d never heard her say anything like that and never heard her pray for anything consistently other than for my salvation. She crawled up into bed, wearing just a t-shirt and snuggled up next to me. I resisted the urge to ask her about the odd addition knowing that prying wasn’t going to score me any points. Within five minutes, we were having wild sex. She seemed much more relaxed than normal. Not that she was particularly restrained in bed. But our lovemaking generally followed a bit of a formula on most occasions and that night we completely deviated from it. We were rolling all over the bed, shifting positions multiple times like a porno or something. Eventually, we came together while I was slamming into her with her legs over my shoulders. We were staring into each other’s eyes while she whispered, “Thank you. I love you,” over and over. We drifted off to sleep feeling tired and sated but also weirdly excited.

The Divine Revelation

The next thing I remember, I was in an incredibly lucid dream. I was walking along the bank of a river. The moss covered pebbles crunched under my feet as I looked down and realized I was completely naked. Somehow I wasn’t particularly bothered by that. The temperature was perfect. The sun kissed against my skin while a cool breeze wicked away the hint of sweat. I could hear the river flow and the birds and insects in the forest buzzed peacefully. Something about the setting felt more perfect and relaxing than anything I’d ever felt.

That’s when God appeared. Don’t ask me how I knew it was him. I just knew. He wasn’t an old bearded man with a robe. Nor a guy wearing a well pressed suit. Frankly, it wasn’t at all what I expected. Out from the forest floated an ephemeral mixture of dust and fire and water. A swirling maelstrom confined into a vaguely humanoid body. The eyebrows were formed from small rocks, the mouth was a roaring fire. And the eyes. I swear the eyes were stars, or maybe whole galaxies.

It was magnificent and awe inspiring. Or it would have been if not for the Hawaiin shirt and Birkenstock sandals that the elemental construct wore.

“How do I look?” came a booming, commanding voice. It shook the whole forest, trees swayed and the river behind me sloshed violently.

“What?” I asked, confused and scared.

“Oh. Sorry,” God said. “Is that better? I don’t talk to a lot of humans these days. Mostly whales and elephants. They’re the next big thing on Earth, you see.” He laughed at his own joke though I was too stunned to reciprocate.

“What?” I asked again. Less scared and more confused.

“Sorry, sorry. Danny, Or do you prefer Daniel?”

“What?”

God sighed. He actually sighed. Frosty breath flew out of his mouth and dissipated into the wind before he said, “Calm down. Take a breath. I’m God. You’re Danny. Everything’s fine.”

I did as he told me and felt a little less agitated but no less befuzzled. “Sorry, I’m just; you’re God?”

“In the flesh. Well, my version of it anyways. Nice to meet you?” he said and extended a watery hand. I reached for it and felt my hand slosh through the wetness. God laughed at the look on my face, “Sorry, Danny. I love that joke.”

“I don’t understand any of this,” I said and just sat down on a rock at the side of the river.

“I know. This is all new to you. I get that. But I’ve been following your wife for years. She’s amazing.”

“Yes she is, but what do you mean; following? Don’t you pay attention to everyone?”

“Well, technically I’m omniscient and omnipresent and all-powerful and all that. But it doesn’t work the way you humans think of it. I can see and know anything I want but only the stuff I really think about. Most humans have gotten pretty bad at worshipping me. They don’t do it right. They don’t do it out of a sense of love. They want something from me. Your wife is one of those rare exceptions. She loves me just for me. You can see why that’s so appealing, right?”

I thought about it, “So basically humanity has become a bunch of gold diggers telling you they love you but really wanting your money?”

God nodded, flexing the sand in his neck and giving me a fiery thumbs up. “You got it. Not Karen. She’s only been praying for two things that were for her and tonight she realized why she was wrong to condition them. She made that final, selfless step of praying just for me to do what I thought was right.”

“So that really was you today?”

“Yeah. I knew she’d have her epiphany tonight so I made sure you had your own earlier today.”

“How could you,” I started to ask.

God tapped his fiery hand against the hard surface of his skull causing sparks to shoot out, “I see the future, remember?”

“Oh,” I said. That made sense.

“So why show up to me like this? Do all new believers get this treatment?”

God laughed. It was a joyful, musical sound that I could have listened to forever. “Oh no. Definitely not. This is kind of my little gift to Karen. To let you know you’re not imagining things and you’re on the right path. Plus, I can’t really give her her other wish without talking to you first.”

“What do you mean?”

“She loves you, Danny.”

“I know,” I said, confused again. Of course she loved me. I know a lot of people say that they know their spouse loves them but secretly doubt it. I never did. If anything, I always wondered if I loved her as much as she loved me.

“No. She really, really loves you. Nearly as much as she loves me, actually. And she’s very traditional. Almost to a fetish.”

“What do you mean? She’s not particularly traditional about stuff that I’ve noticed.”

“That’s because she knows you’re not looking for that. So she’s kept that little part of her hidden lest it bother you.”

“What do you mean,” I asked, still not understanding.

“She wants to serve you. Completely. She wants to be perfect for you in whatever way you want.”

“Isn’t that true of everyone that truly loves their spouse?”

“No. Not really. Think of it this way. Would you kill someone if she asked?”

“Of course not. Would she?”

“No. But she wants to.”

I was startled and really bothered, “She wants to kill someone for me? What the f” I stopped myself from vulgar talking in front of God.

He laughed. “Don’t worry. You can be vulgar around me. I invented all the words, remember?” he said and patted me on the shoulder. Somehow his fiery hand didn’t burn me, though I still flinched. “No, she doesn’t want to kill someone. She wants to be so devoted to you that she would if you asked. But she knows you never would. Understand?”

“Not even a little,” I said truthfully.

“She wants to be able to be literally anything for you. If you want it from her, she wants to be that for you.”

“Oh, I get it. Like she wants to like computer games and watching basketball even though I know she doesn’t like those things?”

God nodded, “Exactly. It’s how she thinks of being a good help-meet. She wants to literally be anything you want. And that’s what I’m giving her, well, I’m giving it to both of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you wake up, you’ll be able to change anything about Karen you want. Forever.”

“Permanently?”

“If you want. She’ll be able to be molded in whatever way you want for the rest of your life. Want her to like Basketball? Done. Want her to hate Basketball the next day? Sure.”

“Why not just change her into my perfect girl? Why give me all this power?”

“Three reasons, Danny. First, that’s not what she wants. She wants to be malleable and flexible for you. She knows that people change and she doesn’t want to be perfect for you in this moment and terrible for you years from now.” God ticked off one stony finger as he talked, then sprouted a little twig as a second finger, “Second, I needed to talk to you about this so you’d understand. So you’d believe and would appreciate that this is well and truly what she wants at a deep, fundamental level. She finally let go of conditioning it upon your salvation and that was the key but she’s always wanted it from the day she met you.”

He smiled at me and I saw one of his eyes twinkle, “And third, I like to have a little fun and watching you two will be just that. I’m curious what you do with the complete control of another human being. Daunting isn’t it?”

I nodded as a million thoughts and questions rolled through my mind.

God smiled at me again, “Don’t worry. I know it’ll be fine. I can see the future remember? Oh, one thing. There is one limit. No matter what you change, she’ll never stop loving me. That’s key to her and one part that you can’t change. Not that you’d want to, I know. But just to give you some peace of mind.”

I nodded again. The dream started to fade a little and I could feel myself waking up. “Wait!” I called. The elemental deity turned to gaze at me with those piercing eyes. “What can we do for you?” I asked.

He smiled, a blazing smile of warmth and serenity. “It’s a good question Danny. Find your own way. Love Karen. Love others. Put love into the world. That’s my greatest commandment. All the other dogma that religions attach to worship are just fluff. Love is all you really need.”

He started walking away, his strange footwear crunching on the pebbles as he walked. But then he paused and as I called out, “Really? That’s all? We don’t need to convert people or something? Preach your message?”

“For crying out loud. Why does everyone think that? Sure,

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Wed, 06 May 2026 00:58:00 +0000

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 2

Next Generation Discipleship and Social Group.

Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

As it turned out, I would learn a lot more about the subject during NG group a couple weeks later. The study that week was on 'integrity in relationships'. The study material was pretty general and covered all kinds of relationships, both social and business. However, discussion among the unmarried college students naturally morphed into a dialogue of biblical perspectives on dating relationships and sexual purity.

The group consisted of students from very conservative Powell College, so the conversation was much what you would expect in terms of defining physical boundaries in dating relationships, avoiding temptation, abstaining from pre-marital sex, etc.

Emily was sitting a few chairs to my right and noticeably fidgeted with her Bible cover while others talked about various 'Christian' guidelines for dating. She listened politely to several volleys of points and counterpoints before adding her own perspective to the conversation.

"Sexual purity is important, but I think we're getting lost in legalism and missing God's larger purpose. The whole purpose of 'dating' is to find the spouse God has intended for us. That shouldn't be done randomly or haphazardly. We should be building serious platonic friendships and know that marriage is a very real possibility before ever going on a date."

She continued after a slight pause, "For me personally, I don't want to 'date'. I want to be attracted to a guy that I already love as my best friend, and then have him 'court' me as an intentional commitment leading to marriage."

She hesitated for an instant, then added, "I know that sounds unromantic and clinical; and maybe I'm being naïve since I've never dated; but I don't think there would be as much temptation if the relationship is defined by God's larger plan."

My mental wheels started turning as Emily's comment pivoted the group's conversation toward God's intent for marriage. Everything she said made a lot of sense and I spent the next couple days reading the Bible and studying everything I could find on the topic. Meanwhile, I couldn't help but analyze our friendship, and my feelings toward her, within that newly discovered context.

Emily’s note initiative.

The next time I saw Emily was Saturday morning when she stopped by the hardware store to say hello. Unfortunately, there were a lot of customers in the store and I was busy helping an older couple choose a new mailbox. Emily waved while the couple debated between themselves whether or not to spend the extra couple dollars for a sturdier metal box vs. a plastic one. She wrote something on a yellow notepad by the cash register, then waved goodbye as she walked out of the store.

The couple decided to go for the metal mailbox, which I thought was a good decision, and then I made sure they had the mounting hardware they would need. I went on to assist several other customers, and it was probably an hour before I was finally able to look at Emily's note.

Beautiful flowing handwriting was perfectly aligned on the ruled notepad and read, "Just stopped to say hi! I'll be studying at the library this afternoon if you are free. Text me." She signed the bottom of the note with a simple "-E" accompanied by a smiley face and her cell phone number.

I involuntarily smiled at the sight of her smiley face and phone number. The smiley face was just cute. The number was a welcome new step in our friendship.

I saved her number in my phone and texted, "Sorry, I work until 6."

I did want to see her and, on a whim, quickly hit send on a follow-up text, "Root beer at Muggs?"

My phone chimed almost immediately, "Text me when you are leaving the store."

Mr. Jacobs and I locked up the store at 6 o'clock and I texted Emily shortly after to let her know I was leaving.

The local dog 'n suds type window-service stand was popular with Powell students and townsfolk alike, and was located just a couple blocks away from the hardware store. I was there in just a couple minutes and found the sunny April day had given a lot of other people the same idea. I didn't see Emily yet, but I figured I should claim a place in the ordering line.

She arrived a few minutes later, fashionably dressed in a knee length olive-color skirt, light-tan corded sweater, medium-brown tights, and light-tan laced-boot style heels. We greeted each other with a friendly hug and then discussed what to order as the line crept forward.

When it was our turn at the window, Emily ordered a chili-cheese dog, fries, and root beer. I did the same and we both paid for our respective meals. We shuffled a few steps over to the service window and, within seconds, received our tray of food. All the picnic tables were occupied and we waited a few moments as a family stood up and gathered their trash.

Once seated, Emily opened her petite mouth as wide as she could and fiercely attacked the comparatively huge chili dog. I chuckled at the odd contrast of neatly-dressed, normally prim-and-proper Emily sitting there with an overstuffed mouth and chili running down the back of her hand.

She facetiously reprimanded me with a mouth full of chili dog, "Stop it! These things are hard to eat!"

After talking for more than an hour, we disposed our trash and exited the corral of picnic tables onto the sidewalk. I didn't want our time together to end and asked, "Would you like to go for a walk?"

"Yes, that would be nice."

We slowly strolled side-by-side toward the Powell campus as the sun moved lower in the sky. Remembering back to our conversation about Haiti, I asked, "Have you made plans for the summer?"

"Yes, and I should thank you for that. I did a lot of thinking and praying after we talked that day at the hardware store. I'm going to stay here and volunteer at the Christian school's summer camp for special needs children."

"That's great, but why thank me?"

"Well, I was encouraging you that God can use you in great ways in your hometown; which I truly believe by the way; but, I think I was actually talking more to myself that day than I was you. You made me realize I strayed from God's calling. I chased the glamour of overseas adventures when I should have been right here reaching people in my own community."

She told me more about the summer camp as we slowly followed the meandering campus pathways, and it made me happy to hear the excitement and joy in her voice.

The topic of our summers dwindled to a close and we were content to walk in silence, just enjoying the time together.

After a little while, Emily somewhat hesitantly asked, "Michael; how did you feel about the NG study last week? You didn't say anything during the discussion."

We happened to be passing a bench when she asked the question and I gestured for us to sit down. We did, and I started talking from my heart without giving any thought to what I was saying.

"Honestly, I hadn't put much thought into relationships or marriage before that study. Not that I don't want to get married, I do. I'm just so awkward around girls; er, women; you know that. Dating was never a relevant subject for me, so let's just say there wasn't an urgent need to study God's intent for it."

Emily started to interject, "You're;” but truncated her comment when she realized I wasn't finished with my thought.

"I've done a lot of praying, studying and thinking since Wednesday. While courtship isn't directly spelled out in Scripture, I think what you said makes a lot of sense. I believe God's intent is for people to truly know the real intellectual, emotional, and spiritual soul of the other person, and to seek God's guidance for them as a potential spouse. I think most of that can be done within the context of platonic friendship; without the, er; complications; of traditional dating."

Our eyes met before I very intentionally suggested, "Mental and physical attraction is important too, but I think everyone knows that pretty much immediately without dating."

Emily simply replied, "Yes, I think you are right about feeling attraction right away."

She said it with normal tone and inflection in her voice, but her eyes gave her away. She had feelings for me, but was waiting for me as the Christian man to be the leader of the relationship.

I was honest and a thinly veiled in my response, "This whole idea is very new to me. I know how I feel, but I need to do a lot more thinking and praying on the subject."

Emily smiled warmly and we resumed our walk with more mundane topics of conversation.

Thinking and Praying.

I did do a lot more thinking and praying on the subject over the following week. I knew how I felt about Emily, but I also knew that the idea of courtship was a huge commitment. Did God place her in my life as my future wife, or just as a really good friend? The last thing I wanted to do was take that decision lightly and end up hurting Emily.

The timing was also terrible. The spring term was ending in 3 weeks and we both had geographically separate summer commitments, her at the Christian school summer camp, and me at Burkee Hardware.

I didn't feel it was right to take the next step with her then spend the next 3 months apart. I also didn't think it was fair to leave her in limbo for 3 months and decided we needed to have a real conversation.

I was working at the hardware store that Friday afternoon and sent her a text, "Are you free tonight?"

She responded a few minutes later, "Yes."

"Hardware store at 6?"

"K"

Emily arrived a couple minutes after 6 o'clock, just as I was flipping the 'OPEN' sign in the front display window to 'CLOSED'. She smiled and cutely waved to me through the glass as she opened the creaky screen door. Dressed fashionably as always, she wore nicely fitting blue jeans and a white tailored button-down blouse that was thin enough to reveal the subtle shadow of a lace bra beneath. The outfit was smartly accented with matching black leather ballet flats, belt, and handbag.

The screen door squeaked shut and I greeted her from the front display platform, "Hi Emily. Would you mind closing the solid door and flipping the lock?"

"Sure."

She did and we gave each other a brief hello-hug after I stepped down from the platform. We sat facing each other in a couple old wood benches next to the front counter. Emily placed her handbag on the floor next to her, then sat rather formally on the bench with hands folded in her lap.

I had been building up courage for the conversation all day and couldn't bring myself to make small-talk.

"I've been doing a lot of praying since we talked last Saturday, and I would like to talk with you about it some more. I'm probably going to stumble my way through this, so please let me get everything out before you respond."

Emily mouthed an almost silent, "Ok," while she sat with a concerned expression on her face and nervously fidgeting hands.

"Emily, I want you to know that you are very special to me. From the day I met you Freshman year, I thought you were amazing. I was just a stranger to you that day, but you overlooked my awkwardness and genuinely cared about me as a person. And not just me, you treat everyone you meet with that same authenticity. You are truly a gift to everyone in your life."

My eyes began to swell with tears as I spoke, "I'm so thankful for the time we've been able to spend together this year. You're my best friend; and I think maybe God brought us together to be more than friends; but I'm scared;”

Emily brushed away tears that were streaming down her cheeks.

"I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you;”

I gathered myself for a few moments before continuing, "I want you to know that I take any commitment to courtship, and to you, very seriously. As much as my heart is screaming at me, I don't think it's wise to make an emotional decision right now; or for us to start that kind of commitment as a long-distance relationship over the summer."

We were both openly crying. "I'm so sorry Emily. I hope you can forgive;”

She interrupted me, "Michael! These aren't sad tears. You are the most incredible man; and my best friend. These are tears of happiness that you have the same feelings for me as I do for you."

We both stood and organically melted into each other's arms, my shirt absorbing her tears as she nestled her head against my chest.

Her voice was muffled by my chest when she said, "I appreciate that you are seeking God's plan us, and not just following our emotions. I'll be here when the time is right, no matter the answer."

I truly appreciated Emily's graciousness and patience, but it was still a very unsatisfactory conclusion for me. I suspect it was for her too.

Unspoken Understanding.

Emily and I spent as much time together as we could before the school year ended. In an unspoken understanding, we put aside serious relationship topics and just enjoyed a simple, everyday friendship. One of my best memories of that period, was when Emily stopped by the store for one of her normal 'hello' social calls on the last Wednesday of the school year.

I had promised Mr. Jacobs that I would price a recently received shipment of new inventory before leaving for the summer. He was old-school, so that meant manually stickering each item with a pricing gun. I was just starting the process when Mr. Jacobs directed Emily toward the stock room where I was busy opening boxes.

There was a lot to do and I convinced her to help apply pricing stickers while I focused on opening boxes and making count tallies on the inventory sheet. I gave a quick training session on how to use the pricing gun, then watched in amusement as her slightly OCD personality expressed itself through the pricing gun. She would carefully verify the listed price for each item, set the dial on the gun, then meticulously apply the stickers so they had the same location and orientation on each item.

We worked well together and made it through most of the boxes by closing time. I left a few items for last because they needed a special vendor symbol added to the sticker. Rather than teaching Emily, I dialed the symbol on the gun and quickly slapped on the stickers, much too haphazardly for her liking.

"Hey! Give me that!"

I mischievously mocked, "What?; this???" while holding the gun over her head.

She jumped unsuccessfully to reach it and I retaliated by slapping her shoulder with the gun, leaving behind a $3.49 sticker.

She protested futilely, "Stop! Not fair!"

I held the gun back over her head using both hands to adjust the dial, "You're right, you're worth more than that. How about $5.99."

She playfully punched my stomach and laughed uncontrollably while I landed a dozen more pricing stickers on her back and arms.

I reveled in hearing the pure innocent joy in Emily's laugh and let my guard down a little too much. She swiped the gun out of my hand and proceeded to dance like a boxer while occasionally landing sticker hits on my legs and torso.

Mr. Jacobs must have heard the commotion. He opened the stock room door to find Emily dancing around me with the gun, and both of us covered in price stickers. I made the mistake of looking toward the door, and Emily took the opportunity to land three more quick shots. Mr. Jacobs thought that was the funniest thing ever and his booming laugh joined ours in echoing through the building.

Separation Woes.

Emily and I hugged and cried as we said goodbye for the summer. We talked on the phone at least once every day and texted constantly that summer, sharing every little detail about our days.

True to Emily's encouragement over the last year, I was much more intentional in my conversations with everyone; friends, family, customers, acquaintances; everyone. It was transformational to develop 'real' relationships with people that I had known superficially for many years and, in two instances, to be able to see them come to faith in Christ.

When the Burkee's returned from vacation at the end of the summer, I insisted on taking them out for dinner at a really nice 'big city' restaurant. Well, it wasn't 5-star, but it was the best restaurant in the next larger town a half hour away.

It was the final year of our annual tuition-vacation arrangement and I wanted to thank them for all they had done for me. I expressed a sincere debt of gratitude that I didn't think I would ever be able to repay, but they repeatedly assured me it was a mutually beneficial situation and, if anything, the outstanding debt was on their side of the ledger.

The extended summer vacations had brought back a connection in their relationship that they hadn't felt since they were young. In fact, they were hoping that they could work out a similar agreement with another high school student they had hired and come to trust.

Strangely, being physically apart from Emily for the summer allowed me to gain clarity. She was everything I could ever want or need in a life partner. We were spiritually, intellectually, and emotionally aligned. She was my best friend, and a beautiful person inside and out. We simply made each other better. And most of all; I realized what I felt was more than fleeting attraction. I resolutely believed that God meant us to be together.

Talking to Her Father.

Back in Powell on Tuesday before classes started, I was eager to see Emily but first needed to talk to her father.

The Fulton's were a very conservative and traditional family, like Powell College itself, and I wanted to honor that. I can't say I knew her parents well, but Emily had introduced me at church and I usually had short exchanges with them on Sunday mornings. Dr. Fulton was a pleasant, though formal man of average height and build. Mrs. Fulton was simply an older version of Emily in every way, both appearance and personality.

Professors were required by the college to hold open office hours the week before classes, and I knew that would be my best opportunity to find him without Emily knowing. I knocked on his door early Tuesday afternoon with a firm response of, "Come in."

I opened the door and stepped in, "Hello Dr. Fulton."

He started flipping through some papers on his desk and spoke inquisitively, "Hello Michael. Are you enrolled in one of my courses this term?"

I felt the unconscious need to match his formality, "No, sir. This call is of a personal nature. Would you prefer I contact you outside of office hours?"

Intrigued, he set his reading glasses on the desk and leaned back in his chair, "What can I do for you Michael?"

"It's about Emily, sir. I have had the privilege of getting to know her over the past three years, and think she is an amazing, Godly woman. We've become very good friends and I believe God may have larger plans for us."

I paused briefly without receiving any immediate reaction from Dr. Fulton, then continued, "I would like to ask your permission to pursue a relationship with Emily."

"Define relationship."

"Courtship, sir. I would like to court her with the intent of progressing our relationship toward marriage."

Seemingly satisfied with that response, he asked, "Have you talked about this with Emily?"

"We talked about our growing feelings for each other before summer break. I think we both knew we were heading this direction, but God really gave me clarity over the summer. With your permission, I intend to ask her tomorrow."

"Are you committed to the Biblical model of marriage?"

"Yes sir."

"That includes being the spiritual leader in the relationship, loving and honoring Emily as Christ would the Church; and upholding her purity before marriage?"

"Yes sir."

"Very well then. You have my permission."

He stood to shake my hand, "I know she fancies you. I suspect I'll be hearing news soon."

Carnival.

That afternoon, the Christian sc

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Tue, 05 May 2026 00:56:00 +0000

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 1

Two young Christians exploring love and passion.

Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

I sit naked in an overstuffed leather armchair absorbing my surreal surroundings.

The remnant scents of crushed rose petals and last night's love making fill my nostrils while the gentle glow of dawn filters through leaded glass windows and sheer drapery. Gold-leaf picture frames and an antique clock face give off a slight radiance that contrast against the historic mansion's otherwise dark furnishings and wood paneling. Of everything in the room, the object most strikingly highlighted by the soft illumination is Emily's smooth alabaster leg extending from underneath the king size bed's dark duvet cover. The room is silent except for faint, deep breaths of slumber emanating from beneath the duvet.

While my senses are filled by the early morning experience, treasured memories of the journey to this moment float through my head.

My childhood.

God has been good to me. I was raised in a very loving home by two wonderful parents, both faithful Believers who raised their two sons to be Godly young men. My mom worked as an elementary schoolteacher but spent most of her free time spearheading our church's county-wide food pantry ministry. Dad was a jack-of-all-trades who probably had 20 different jobs over his working career, not because he wasn't good at the jobs, but because he was a very inquisitive person and became quickly bored with each pursuit. We weren't monetarily wealthy by any definition, but we were a solid working-class family and our basic day-to-day needs were met.

There were a few local main street businesses that were the economic and social hubs for our small Midwest farming community. Linda's Diner was the only restaurant in our one-flashing-light town, and was where the retired crowd started their morning with coffee and gossip. Following breakfast, the older men moved to the John Deere dealership where they spent the morning drinking more coffee and lamenting that "they don't make tractors like they used to." Meanwhile, the older women went to Clancy Drugs, which was actually more of a "five and dime" store that had a small pharmacy. The owner, Oscar Clancy, had set up an area with armchairs, a couple sofas, and a coffee table where the women would knit and crotchet while they gossiped.

Two other local landmarks were the towering white steeple of the First Congregational Church, and the two-story brick Burkee Hardware building, owned by John and Bonnie Burkee. Both were welcome visual contrasts to flat horizons filled with endless cornfields, and both had transformational roles in my life.

The Burkee's attended First Congregational Church, as did nearly everyone in town, and were long-time friends with my parents. Mrs. Burkee often helped my mom with the church food pantry and my dad was a frequently found at the hardware store 'shooting-the-breeze' with Mr. Burkee. Nearly every Friday night, the two couples could be found playing Euchre at their house or ours.

Mr. Burkee knew money was always tight for my parents and, when I was a Freshman in high school, suggested I help out at the hardware store on Saturdays. I readily accepted and he put me to work with basic tasks like loading customers' cars, sweeping floors, and taking out trash. Since I was only 14 at the time, Mrs. Burkee would pay me in cash at the end of each Saturday and usually send me home with a plate of cookies or some other treat for my family. As a couple without children of their own, I felt a bit like the son they never had.

The hardware store was a natural fit for me. My family didn't have money to buy new things or hire repair technicians when something broke, so dad always fixed everything himself. He had a mechanical mind and was innovative with cost efficient solutions and repairs. I was always eager to watch him as a young child, and to participate in the repairs as I grew older. As grew into a young adult, my mind began to work like his, inquisitive and mechanical, and that translated into a lot of practical knowledge that was helpful at the hardware store.

After a few months, Mr. Burkee asked if I would want to help stock shelves on weekdays after school. He gave a stern warning that I needed to keep my schoolwork and grades in order. School was to be my number one priority and if I didn't abide by that, working afternoons at the hardware store would end. He had no reason to worry and I eagerly accepted his offer. School came easy to me and I carried straight A's without much effort.

What didn't come easy to me was social ease. I was a very introverted person and found social interactions awkward at best. I had a couple good buddies and did marginally well holding conversations with adults, but would stumble epically when even saying "hi" to a teenage girl.

When I turned 16, Mr. and Mrs. Burkee promoted me to be a legitimate, on-the-books employee at Burkee Hardware and had me start interacting more with customers. I helped them find items in the store, answered general questions, and sometimes helped brainstorm on their projects. Mrs. Burkee taught me how to use the cash register and record store credit purchases for customers that were billed monthly.

I didn't recognize it until years later, but the trust Mr. and Mrs. Burkee gave me in those early years allowed me to find trust in myself. I was confident in my knowledge and that gave me courage in my interactions with customers. That also spread to other aspects of my life and I found it easier to have more meaningful conversations with friends or adults at church.

Girls were still a different story. I had zero confidence in that area and remained painfully awkward to the point of social paralysis. It was as if I was on the outside of a glass bubble looking into the real world. There were a few girls at school and at church that I found attractive and interesting, but I lacked the ability to break through that glass wall.

Accepting failure in that part of my life, I poured my energies into school, church activities, and the hardware store. I became more involved at church where I took on a bigger role in helping my mom with the food pantry, joined a Wednesday evening Bible Study group, and grew much deeper in my personal relationship with God. Those things certainly didn't solve my awkwardness with girls, but they at least kept my mind from constantly dwelling on the subject.

Becoming a Man.

By the time my Senior year arrived, I was a well engrained fixture at church and the hardware store. The Burkee's trusted me implicitly and often left me to run the store or lock up at night when they had other commitments. Over the Christmas and New Year's holidays, they even took their first vacation in 20-years, a 10-day Caribbean cruise, and left me to manage the store.

During that year, I began to think about life after high school. The hardware store was very comfortable for me and I loved every minute of it, but I also knew it would be difficult to support myself, and hopefully a future family, on a store clerk's wages.

My mechanical mind dreamed of an engineering degree and a career designing complex industrial innovations. The spiritual side of me dreamed of a life in ministry leading people to Jesus, though that wasn't exactly a high-paying appointment either. The problem with both options was money.

My parents had managed to squirrel away a very small college fund over the years but, in reality, the vast majority of college expenses would need to be covered by scholarships and loans. Understanding the potential magnitude of college debt made a non-degreed life at the hardware store look more and more attractive.

Mrs. Burkee had taken a keen interest in what I intended to do after graduation and there were occasional slow evenings at the hardware store when she would sit and listen to all the conflicting thoughts rattling around in my head. Every time she would give the same advice, to keep my options open, pursue all opportunities until a decision became clear, and keep praying for God's guidance.

I took her advice to heart and explored various community colleges and universities, both those with engineering programs and those with ministry fields. I found a few Christian colleges that had well regarded engineering programs, which would give me the perfect opportunity to pursue both of my dreams simultaneously. However, the schools were private and their tuitions rates were astronomical.

My "top-pick" school, Powell College, was located in a small town of the same name and was especially pricey. Mrs. Burkee continued her previous advice and insisted I apply to as many schools as possible to keep my options open. She backed up her determination by insisting that she and Mr. Burkee pay for all the application fees. How could I argue with that?

Meanwhile, graduation was a couple months away and the entire town was abuzz about the upcoming Senior Prom. I had never attended a school dance and had no intention of attending Senior Prom.

My mom disagreed, arguing it was a rite-of-passage and that I would regret it for the rest of my life. She wouldn't accept no for answer and said she would make arrangements for me to take her coworker's daughter, Bridget, to Prom. I continued protesting and told her that I could find my own date, but I didn't want to go to any high school dance, Prom or otherwise. However, mom was relentless and I eventually resigned myself to the fact I wasn't going to win the argument.

My statement about finding my own date was a partial truth. Thanks to family genes, I was a fairly good-looking guy and occasionally drew the interest of girls around my age. Moving and lifting of heavy items at the hardware store had slowly evolved my body from that of a scrawny child into a muscular, well-defined 6'-3" young man with softly chiseled facial features. Unfortunately, any female attention I received because of my physical appearance was quickly repelled by my awkward and unconfident nature.

Prom was an absolute disaster. Set-up dates are awkward under any circumstances, but Bridget was very shy and just as socially backward as me. We were simply a bad combination and spent the first part of the night standing off to the side of the dance floor fidgeting nervously and trying not to make eye contact with each other. Eventually, I worked up the courage to ask her to dance when the band began playing a slow ballad. She reluctantly accepted.

We slowly shuffled around in circles, clumsily looking for appropriate hand placements and keeping plenty of distance between our bodies. Thankfully, our respective friends rescued us shortly after the song ended and we amicably parted ways.

Recruited.

Envelopes with college and university logos began appearing in the family mailbox about a month before graduation. I had a perfect GPA, so it wasn't a surprise that they were all letters of acceptance. However, what I didn't expect was that most of them also included offers of significant scholarships and financial aid. I was ecstatic to learn Powell College offered an 80% no-repayment scholarship, which made my "top-pick" school a realistic possibility. I excitedly told my parents then immediately raced over to the hardware store to tell Mrs. Burkee.

A few days later, I closed the hardware store and went home to find the Burkee's and my parents playing their regular Friday night Euchre game at the kitchen table. They all greeted me as I walked in the house and, with a strange look on his face, my dad said somewhat ominously, "Sit down son, Mr. & Mrs. Burkee would like to talk to you about something."

I nervously pulled up a chair and waited patiently while they finished the last couple tricks of the hand. Mom updated the score and dad started reshuffling the cards while Mr. Burkee spoke.

"Mike, you did a great job managing the store while we were on the cruise last winter and, well, we really enjoyed the time away. I have a proposition for you."

I listened intently as he continued, "We would like to go on an extended vacation this summer. Go out west to the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, Mt. Rushmore; maybe even try our luck in Vegas. We haven't planned it out yet so we're not sure how long we'll be gone, but I'm guessing 3 or 4 weeks for a road trip like that. So; We would like you to manage the store while we're away."

I was more than happy to do so and started to respond, but Mrs. Burkee cut me off before I got any words out, "However, you won't receive your normal hourly wage while we're gone;”

I looked at her quizzically and waited for her to continue after a faux dramatic pause, "Instead, John and I will pay the 20% of Powell's tuition that the scholarship doesn't cover, and also help you out with books and course fees."

I was quickly doing calculations in my head. Their proposal was easily worth 4 times what I would earn at my normal gross hourly rate, not even considering taxes. I sat speechless with a stunned look on my face. Here was the answer to my prayers. God had provided.

Mrs. Burkee excitedly continued, "I know you really want to go to Powell. You're an amazing young man and we want you to follow your dreams."

Mr. Burkee echoed her thoughts and added, "You've worked your tail off for 4 years, more so than we could ask of any employee. This isn't a gift. You've earned it."

I looked over at my parents. My mom was beaming and my dad had a 'gotcha' look on his face. Apparently, he thought it was funny to bait me at the beginning of the conversation.

I slowly responded, "I; I don't know what to say. That's very generous."

I think Mrs. Burkee was even more excited than me and blurted out, "Just say yes!" So, I did.

Cap & Gown.

High school graduation and the following summer went by in a blur. Amid preparing to move away to Powell, I also managed to keep attending my weekly Bible study and maintain status quo at the hardware store while Mr. & Mrs. Burkee were on vacation. Before I knew it, I was loading up my car and saying heartfelt goodbyes to all my friends and family, and especially to the Burkee's for all they had done over the past years.

After arriving at Powell, I quickly settled into my dorm room on the first day, then spent the second day on campus searching for a job. Despite my tuition being 100% covered, I still needed to pay for room & board and needed some spending money.

Naturally, my first stop was the local downtown hardware store where I spoke briefly with the owner, a stern-looking man in his late 50s, Mr. Jacobs. He looked at me skeptically and gruffly asked if I had any experience. I modestly told him that I worked at the hardware store in my hometown. He asked for a contact person, which I gave, and he said he would get back to me.

I spent the rest of the day applying for jobs anywhere that had a posting, though I needn't have. Mr. Jacobs called me first thing the next morning to say he talked to Mr. Burkee, and I was hired.

Higher Ed.

I settled into a routine of classes and work over the next few weeks. My inquisitive mind yearned for new knowledge from both sources and I soaked it up like a sponge. The coursework was more challenging and took more effort than in high school, but was still manageable and left adequate time for about 20 hours a week at the hardware store.

Between the hardware store paycheck, some help from my parents, and a moderate size student loan, I would be able to cover the cost of room & board and my general living expenses. Once again, God provided.

During those first few weeks, I also began attending Faith Bible Church, which was located a couple blocks from the hardware store. It was a typical church in many ways, but also had a large college-age ministry given its proximity to Powell's campus. They had a worship service on Sunday morning and a variety of study and support groups throughout the week, including a 'young adult' (a.k.a. college student) study group on Wednesday evenings that they called Next Gen, just NG for short.

Due to my schedule at the hardware store, it was a few weeks into school before I could attend my first Wednesday NG study. I followed signs through the church building into a large lounge area furnished like an oversized but cozy living room, complete with an artificial electric fireplace. I would guess there were about 40-50 students socializing in informal clusters around the room. I recognized a couple students from my engineering classes and decided they would be my safest point of entry into this new group.

My eyes casually scanned the room looking for other familiar faces as I purposefully walked toward my engineering classmates, that is until I plowed into someone. My hands instinctively reached out to steady whoever I just clobbered and grasped the shoulders of an extremely petite girl. I looked down to see a bob of strawberry-blond hair face-planted into the lower portion of my chest.

Socially horrified, I quickly stepped backward and squeaked out a timid, "Sorry. Are you ok?"

The girl's head tilted upward to reveal pure beauty with amazing blue eyes and a welcoming smile. Ignoring my question and the clumsy circumstance, she cheerily thrust her hand out to shake mine, "I'm Emily! Emily Fulton. I haven't seen you here before so I was just coming to say hello."

A pang of nervousness clenched my stomach as her delicate hand came to rest in my big mitt "Hi, I'm Michael; er; Mike."

"Nice to meet you Michael," she said emphasizing my formal name, then warmly continued, "I saw you at worship service the last couple Sundays, but you left before I could catch you."

I stood with Emily's soft hand in mine, frozen in an awkward conversational pause and unable to formulate an intelligent response.

Again, she ignored my ineptness and continued, "I'm glad you came to NG tonight! I'm a Freshman at Powell, but I grew up in this church and already know most of the students here. Let me introduce you to some people."

Her hand slipped from our handshake as she turned and began walking toward a group on the far side of the room. I followed behind, curiously observing Emily's petite form as her short legs took 2 energetic steps for every one of my lazy strides.

While small, her 4'-11" body was perfectly proportioned, and her tastefully conservative attire gave an impression of style and elegance not exhibited by other students in the room. Tasteful white shorts highlighted subtly athletic legs and graceful hips, while a tailored pastel-blue sleeveless blouse accentuated her narrow waist and modest chest.

Emily proceeded to introduce me to nearly everyone in the room before the study began, skillfully prompting conversation and filling awkward pauses in a way that made me feel at ease. That continued into the Bible study as we sat in adjacent armchairs and she effortlessly integrated me into the group discussions.

As the study ended and people began to informally mingle again, Emily turned toward me in her chair with a genuine smile, "I'm really glad you came tonight. Will I see you Sunday morning?"

The inquiry was rote social courtesy for most people, but Emily's smile and voice radiated true sincerity that meant much more than the face value of the words. The genuine kindness caught me a bit off guard and I stumbled a response, "Ye; yes, I'll be here Sunday."

She enthusiastically replied, "Great! I'll see you then!" and moved to join a group of her friends across the room.

School Work.

Over the following weeks, I fell into a routine and became integrated into life at Powell, Faith Bible, and Jacobs Hardware. Classes were going well, and the hardware store atmosphere felt like a reunion with an old friend. Whatever tensions I had melted away when I entered through the old, creaky screen door on Main Street.

At church, I began to build friendships with a few of the guys in NG and, on more Sundays and Wednesdays than not, Emily would initiate a few minutes of friendly conversation with me. Over the course of those brief chats, I learned she was an Early Childhood Education major, her dad was a tenured seminary professor at Powell, she was a cheerleader and president of the quiz bowl team in high school, and; she always dressed impeccably. In turn, I told her about my engineering major and a little about my family background, including how the Burke

Jenna Goes To Church: Part 3

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Sun, 03 May 2026 17:06:00 +0000

Jenna Goes To Church: Part 3

A Visit From The Bishop

A series in 17 parts, By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Reverend Morris anxiously paced back and forth in the lounge. He was in turmoil; he'd just received a letter from Bishop George, who was planning to visit him. On top of that, he'd been agonizing all day how to finally tell Lucy that their marriage was over. The past few weeks had seen his safe and somewhat dull life turned upside down. Ever since that romp with Jenna Fox in the vestry. What seemed to be a wild, one-off had now morphed into a passionate relationship. Now the vicar was seriously falling in love with the much younger woman.

And what about Christopher? His four-year old son had just started school. Now a way would have to be found to gently break the news that Mummy and Daddy would no longer be living together. How would he cope with that? Then there would be the gossips at church. Some of the older members of the congregation would tut and register their disapproval. A vicar of all people, a role model and pillar of the community, cheating on his wife with a woman twenty years his junior! Every week he preached about being a good Christian. Now he couldn't help but feel he was nothing but a hypocrite.

"Bishop George won't take kindly to this," he remarked. The man was known not to suffer fools gladly.

Hearing Lucy's car pull up on the drive, Reverend Morris took a deep breath. It was confession time. He fiddled with his thumbs as the front door opened.

"Hello, um, oh you're back a bit later than normal? Um, where's Christopher?"

"I dropped him off at your mum's," Lucy replied. "Simon, we need to talk. I have to tell you something really important. It can't wait."

"I, had a feeling you might say that. There's something I need to tell you too, you see I,

Lucy took his hand and beckoned him to sit next to her on the settee.

"Simon. I've not been honest with you for some time now. It's not fair, and you have every right to feel angry. I've treated you terribly these past few years, pushing you away, shutting you out. Then six months ago, it happened. This is hard for me to explain,

"Please tell me," Reverend Morris replied. "Is there, someone else?"

Lucy sighed. "Yes. I, I'm so sorry, Simon."

Suddenly, the reverend felt less guilty. That they'd both met other people made it more bearable. But there was still their son to think about.

"I see. Is he, someone from church?"

"Yes, but, it's she," Lucy replied.

Reverend Morris blinked. "She? Oh,

"Debbie Adams, you know, she teaches at the Sunday school? That's why it's been so difficult. So yeah, it's 2022, but it's still hard to be gay, and a vicar's wife. Especially in a tight-knit community like St Michael's. Many nights, I have sat and prayed to God. I asked him for courage and forgiveness. For how I have sinned."

He took her hand. "I'm happy you found the courage to be yourself. And to fall in love isn't a sin, Lucy."

"You're a wonderful man, Simon. You're being so understanding about this. I've been dreading saying anything, but I needn't have worried."

Reverend Morris awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "I would've supported you no matter what. Um, but I guess now's the right time to confess that I've been seeing someone else too."

Lucy smiled. "Oh really?"

"Um, you know Jenna? She goes to church. Jenna Fox?"

"Blimey, Simon. Oh yes. I've seen her. She is really attractive, not my type, but a stunner. I can see why you fell for her."

Reverend Morris' face was turning red. "I worry about the age gap though, I mean she's twenty and I've just turned forty, that's not a good look is it? Others will disapprove."

"Simon, love is love. These others you speak of will just have to deal with it."

"Bishop George won't approve. He's planning to visit me in the next few days."

"I don't think he's the monster you make him out to be. He seems pretty liberal deep down. Didn't he once have a much younger wife?" Lucy asked.

"Yes, she was called Julia. She left him for a Catholic priest."

"Ouch."

"Who was older than him! The priest was defrocked of course and he and Julia emigrated to the Costa del Sol, where they now run a beachfront bar called Unholy Orders,

"About Christopher," Lucy began. "We should tell him together."

Reverend Morris nodded.

Another Sunday and another morning Eucharist at St Michael's. Josh the curate was at the door, welcoming the faithful. Yulia and a group of other young woman grinned at him as they went inside. Normally, Josh would've nodded and blushed, but not anymore. Today he shook their hands, smiled back and had a little chat with them. When he noticed Jenna approaching, the curate's smile widened some more.

"Hello Jenna!"

"Good morning!" Jenna said. "Nice day for it."

"Nice day for what?" Josh replied, winking at her.

"Naughty boy. Nice day for a church service of course! Looks like you have some female admirers over there," she said, glancing at Yulia and her friends.

There was a notable absence in the church - John Norris and his wife were nowhere to be seen. The gossip-mongering pensioners who sat in the front pew wasted no time in digesting this new information.

"Well I heard that he moved out for a few days. They had a blazing row at the Harvest Social."

"Margaret saw Patricia on the bus. Talk about having the wind taken out of your sails. She was beside herself."

"Best place for her. A poison-tongued harpy of the highest order! I feel sorry for John. He doesn't need that sort of upset. He's on beta-blockers. They've decided to have a few days in Wales, to try and patch things up."

"If my husband had been writing the sort of stuff like Patricia put on the Internet, I'd have told him to sling his hook!"

Tony had volunteered to read the first reading, which was from the Book of Revelation. He twitched and sniffed as he spoke, and got a little carried away as he went on.

"Then I saw coming from the mouth of the dragon, the mouth of the beast, and the mouth of the false prophet, three foul spirits like frogs. These spirits were devils, with power to work miracles. They were sent out to muster all the kings of the world for the great day of battle of God the sovereign Lord!"

"He'll have a stroke if he carries on like that," the old ladies whispered.

Tony continued. "This is the day when I come like a thief! Happy the man who stays awake and keeps on his clothes, so that he will not have to go naked and ashamed for all to see!"

Some small children sat at the front looked terrified.

"This is the Word of the Lord!"

Tony sat down. The second reading was a much calmer passage from Romans. Jenna smiled when Reverend Morris took to the pulpit, ready to deliver his sermon.

"Today, I'd like to talk all about love, forgiveness and honesty," he began. "I'm sure you've all heard that old saying. If you love someone, let them go. Why not hold onto them if you love them?

Isn't love supposed to be fighting for that person no matter what?

Through the fights, the struggles, and the pain, shouldn't we keep trying to keep the relationship going? The true meaning of loving someone and letting them go starts with being selfless, not selfish. There is another old saying. Honesty is the best policy. Ladies and gentlemen, I am going to be honest with you all today. My wife Lucy and I are getting divorced.

Several loud gasps arose from the congregation. Jenna glanced round, trying to remain composed. She shifted anxiously in the uncomfortable pew. Was the vicar going to mention her name?

"That's right. I know this will come as a shock to you all. You see, both of us have fallen for different people. Now, whilst we may no longer have romantic love for each other, we still care about each other. As you know, Lucy and I have a young son, Christopher, and his welfare is of paramount importance. Our split has been completely amicable. Lucy has moved out of the vicarage and we have agreed a 50/50 shared custody,

Josh looked up at the vicar in sympathetic understanding, as did Gordon. Meanwhile, some of the old ladies looked to be on the verge of nervous breakdowns. Jenna's heart was pounding.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness," Reverend Morris continued. "I know what some of you must be thinking. What sort of vicar preaches about the sanctity of marriage, and seven deadly sins, the shame of sin, and lo, he has sinned himself. I won't think ill of any of you. I have spoken to God and believe he has forgiven Lucy and I."

Suddenly, Tony stood up. "Good for ya, Vicar! You're a top bloke. You helped me get off the crack. So like, I'd forgive you anything, man." He started clapping. Jenna joined in, and moments later, the rest of the congregation broke out in applause.

Sat at the organ, Gordon was clapping furiously. He noticed Jenna gazing adoringly at the vicar and gave a wry smile. "I wonder who his new woman could be?" He said to himself.

Jenna made her way straight to the vicarage after the service ended, intending to prepare herself ready for Reverend Morris. She was hornier than usual, and had much to discuss with the vicar. He'd given her a key to let herself in with.

Alone in the house, Jenna removed her conservative clothing and changed into a far racier outfit - a short black dress, with lacy red panties underneath. She was just touching up her makeup, when there was a knock on the door.

"Oh he's back already," she smiled. The vicarage was only five minutes from the church. "Guess he didn't bother to go to the church hall,

Jenna opened the door. "I'm feeling sinful, oh! Er, hello!"

Instead of the vicar, a stern-looking man who was the spitting image of Frollo from Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame, was standing there.

"Good morning," the mystery man replied. The clerical collar, purple shirt and cross round his neck were obvious indicators that he was a church person, but Jenna had never seen him before.

"Um, can I help you, sir?"

"Is Reverend Simon Morris in?" the man replied.

"No, he's still at the church. He won't be long. Can I take a message?"

"I'd prefer to come in and wait. I'm Bishop George. The Reverend is expecting me."

The bishop? Yikes, Jenna thought. He's the vicar's boss. I'd better behave myself. She glanced at him as he entered the lounge.

At least, I must try to behave myself,

Bishop George sat down on the couch. "You must be the babysitter?"

Jenna was tempted to lie, but lying to a bishop felt like a great sin, so she declined. "No. I'm, a friend of the vicar."

Bishop George nodded. "Ah yes. I didn't think you were a babysitter. Seeing as Lucy and Christopher have moved out. I admire your honesty, my dear."

Jenna froze. Shit. Does he know everything? Did Reverend Morris have to confess everything to the bishop in private? Or had he been lurking somewhere in the church earlier and left before she did?

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Tea please. Milk and one sugar," Bishop George replied.

"Right, coming up, Jenna turned and bumped into the coffee table, knocking some books onto the floor.

"Clumsy me," she muttered, and bent down to pick them up, exposing her red lacy panties.

Bishop George wasn't prepared for such a sight and let out a gasp.

A few minutes later, Jenna returned with a cup of tea. "Here you are, um, Reverend? I'm sorry, I don't know how to address a bishop, I've never met a bishop before!"

"Just call me George." He replied, taking the cup. "Thanks so much. You must be Jenna, yes?"

"Yes."

"I know about you," he continued. "I spoke to Reverend Morris by phone a few weeks ago, when the Queen died. There was a notable increase in his happiness, and I could tell he was really excited about something. He was eager to tell me that there'd been an increase in people attending St Michael's. Then he mentioned you. Several times. And then I realized,

Jenna sat directly opposite him in an armchair. Her legs were crossed. "What did you realize, George?"

She uncrossed her legs.

Bishop George felt his cheeks flush. She'd removed her panties in the kitchen!

Jenna Pleases the Bishop

Bishop George twitched as a brief tantalizing glimpse of something forbidden was revealed to him.

But the panties, those glorious red lace panties! What had she done with them?

"Well, he began, a little hoarsely, "you've obviously had quite the effect on him."

"It's like history repeating itself," he added.

"What do mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing." Bishop George muttered, sipping his tea. "You just reminded me of someone I once knew, that's all."

Jenna thought carefully for a moment, trying to read the bishop. So far, his self-control was admirable. Had she finally met her match with this man of the church? Behind that stern exterior, she sensed there was a man in need of some attention. She didn't know how old Bishop George was, but at a guess he was in his sixties. He was the oldest man she had encountered so far.

Still, as the old saying goes - many a fine tune played on an old fiddle!

"What do you think of St Michael's, then? You must know all kinds of churches." Jenna continued, trying to think up idle conversation.

He finished his tea. "Some churches are drawn to controversy in the same manner that flies are drawn to shite. I'm pleased to say that St Michael's has resisted that."

"Right. I see. I'm surprised you haven't cut yourself with that tongue of yours, Bishop George!"

He reclined slightly in the armchair. "I have drawn blood on several occasions. I speak my mind, Jenna. I can't stand these churches who abandon their core purpose in an attempt to woo those who have no interest in ever following the teachings of God. I'm talking about those "trendy vicars" who install helter-skelters, massive art installations and the like in ancient churches and cathedrals. A church is a place of worship, not bloody Alton Towers,

"Oh yes. You're right," Jenna said. "I'd better make sure I keep on your good side, then!"

Bishop George gave a slight grin. "And tell me, how would you keep on my good side, Jenna?"

"I prefer to show rather than tell!" He straightened in his chair as she walked over to him. "You seem rather tense, Bishop. I think you need to relax!" Jenna chuckled and sat in his lap. Initially shocked, Bishop George soon slid his arms around her.

"There you are. Beginning to enjoy yourself?" She said, playfully running a finger around his clerical collar.

"It's been a long time since I enjoyed myself like this," he murmured, planting kisses along her neck and jawline. One of his hands slid round and inside her low-cut dress. Bishop George cupped a breast, gently squeezing it, pinching the nipple. Jenna moaned at his sensual fondling. A powerful desire deep within the bishop began to stir also. The ease at which this young woman had penetrated his unforgiving exterior, stunned him. He was pleasantly surprised at how painfully hard he quickly became, and his cock ached to be freed from his clothing. Jenna's lips met his and their kisses grew ever more hot and demanding. Her hand slid down and brushed his crotch. There was no hiding the bulge of his arousal.

"Oh Bishop!" Jenna cooed, rubbing it. He let out a moan. She unbuttoned the lower buttons of his shirt and started on his belt. Resigned to his fate, Bishop George happily reclined in the chair.

And then Jenna got a surprise as she unzipped his trousers. "Oh my. What pretty panties." She never imagined the bishop would be wearing women's underwear.

Bishop George froze, as his secret was revealed. "Damn." He'd forgotten he'd put those on. "It's a fetish," he prattled nervously. "I, I can't help it. It's a need I have."

"Hey, nothing wrong with that, Bishop." Jenna replied. "I love wearing silk ones too. But right now, I'm more interested in what's inside your panties,

She pulled them down, wrapped her fingers around his cock and gently stroked it. For an older guy, the bishop certainly had a nice-looking cock. "Umm. How tempting!"

"It's been quite a while since it last saw any use."

"What a shame. Let's change that, shall we?"

Jenna moved down between Bishop George's legs as he sat up slightly with a cushion behind his back. She took his cock in her hands and while she looked into his dark brown eyes, she began licking and sucking the thick shaft. On her knees so she could get the entire length in her mouth, one hand holding his balls gently. Soon her head was bobbing on the bishop's cock, the shaft wet and glistening.

Bishop George was in heaven; groaning in ecstasy as this red-haired beauty worked his member. It had been too long, and he relished every second of this sweet pleasure.

"Oh Bishop, I have to convince myself to stop licking and sucking it, and fight the impulse to have you cum in my mouth." Jenna said, as she stopped. "I want your cum in my cunt."

Without further hesitation, Bishop George rose from the chair and led her over to the dining table. He didn't even bother to push the table mats aside as he heaved her up on the oak surface, lifting up her dress and pushing her backwards. His tongue ran long, hard strokes up her inner thighs. He shoved her clothing up more, exposing her mound to him. Jenna lifted a leg over his shoulder, giving him full access. He lapped her outer lips, tasting her tantalizing wetness. What a cunt! It was as divine as he imagined.

She gasped and curled her fingers when he slipped a finger inside her folds. Whilst his bony fingers worked their magic, he sucked on the nub at the top of her sex. A low moan escaped Jenna's lips. Bishop G

Jenna Goes To Church: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Sat, 02 May 2026 17:05:00 +0000

Jenna Goes To Church: Part 2

The Curate loses his virginity.

A series in 17 parts, By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

At this Sunday's service, there was much talk of the upcoming harvest festival. Members of the congregation were encouraged to donate fruit and vegetables, along with non-perishable items for the local foodbank.

Jenna had made an effort and brought along a bag of apples. She placed the bag on the side table in the church hall.

"I don't know how a brazen hussy like you has the cheek to set foot in a church."

Jenna remained calm, as she turned to face Mrs. Norris. "Well I'm a Christian, the same as you."

"Huh! Christian my foot. I saw what you and the organist were getting up to and I think it's disgusting! In the church of all places! And he's old enough to be your father!"

"Well if you clutch those pearls of yours any tighter they'll crumble to dust. And Gordon and I happen to be consenting adults. Single consenting adults. So there."

"Why you, you, .horrid little slag!" Mrs. Norris fumed, lip quivering. She stormed off.

Jenna exhaled and rolled her eyes.

"Coffee or tea?" a friendlier voice asked. It was Debbie, the Sunday school teacher, who was volunteering to do today's hot drinks rota in the hall.

"Tea please," Jenna replied.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. I don't think I'll be on her Christmas card list."

"Don't let that old bag get to you. She's a nasty one. She's horribly ageist. Not to mention xenophobic too. I overheard her mocking Yulia's English skills last week. I can't stand her. Her husband's not that bad, he's a tedious fusspot, but there's no malice in him. But her, she's poison."

"I heard her hubby spreads gossip on Facebook." Jenna said.

"More likely that's her doing." Debbie replied. "I'd be surprised if John Norris even knows how to switch on a laptop."

A brief chill ran through Jenna. What if Mrs. Norris were to post some bile about her online? "I don't use social media anymore," she said. "Briefly poked my nose into Twitter as a teen, but didn't like the pile-ons."

"Wise. I'm on Facebook, but only to keep up with church stuff. I never post anything about my private life. I imagine Mrs. Norris would have a stroke if she knew I was dating a woman. A married woman at that. Keep it to yourself. I'm not ready to come out yet."

"Don't worry, I won't say a word."

Jenna sipped her tea quietly as she observed the other members of the congregation file into the hall. She was hoping Reverend Morris would soon arrive, but after fifteen minutes, there was still no sign of him. Then there was Gordon; he never came into the hall after a service, and he'd sent her that amusing text message on Friday, about Charles Wesley and his "bulging hymn book."

She headed out of the hall, in search of Gordon, when Josh the curate came staggering in, carrying a massive pile of hymn books. He almost collided with Jenna and dropped a couple of books.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Josh stammered. "How clumsy of me."

Jenna bent down and picked up the books. "You're loaded up like a pack horse. Let me give you a hand. Where are you taking all these?"

"Um. So kind!" His pale cheeks went pink. "The storeroom at the far end of the hall. These are spare hymn books."

"Ok. Lead the way. By the way, you haven't seen the vicar have you?""

"Oh, he and the organist are in a meeting. One of the organ pipes has just been repaired."

"Damn," Jenna muttered under her breath. "Oh dear. How sad. I guess he'll miss his tea and biscuits."

She followed Josh down to the storeroom. She'd never paid much attention to the curate before, but looking at him now, she realized that he was rather cute. Mid-twenties, tall and stocky with fair hair and a chubby face. There was an endearing innocence about him. Reverend Morris had said he was hoping to complete his ordination next year and become a fully-fledged vicar. He'd been impressed by his devotion to the church - but he needed to come out of his shell a bit and interact more with worshippers. Josh was a shy man and lacking in self-confidence. Remembering this information made Jenna smile.

I think this innocent curate needs some other kind of help,

The storeroom was vast, and crammed from floor to ceiling with box files, books, old furniture and plastic crates.

"Holy sh,, I didn't know this room existed. And what a lot of stuff for one small church!" Jenna exclaimed.

"Heh, yeah." Josh said, putting the books down. "It's not just for St Michael's. We share it with St John's and the Methodist church on Oakwood Road."

Jenna began putting the books on the shelf.

"Um you don't need to do that,

"Jenna."

Josh blushed again. "Jenna. It's kind of you to do that but,

"Oh I don't mind. Why should you have to do all the donkey work? This room is a tip. Besides, a good Christian should help others, right? Especially the vicar's right-hand man. That's what a curate is, yes?"

Josh relaxed a bit. "Pretty much, yeah. Like Batman and Robin."

"Have you always wanted to be a curate?"

Josh sat down on a stool. "In truth, no way. I wasn't religious at all when I was a kid. I suffered from crippling shyness. I used to dread being asked to read in front of the class. When I was ten, my dad walked out, and that affected me a lot. Haven't seen him since. Mum turned to drink, I relied on my grandad for support. He became a father figure to me. He used to be a vicar. Thanks to him I survived my teens and passed my exams. I was eighteen when he died. That's when I decided I wanted to follow in his footsteps. Without him - and God, I fear, well I may have gone down a dark path. Got in with a bad crowd. Taken drugs, self-harmed, maybe ended up in jail."

"Wow." Jenna replied, realizing how cosseted and safe her upbringing had been. "Well I'm so glad your grandad was there for you."

"There are still days when I doubt myself and I'm in a bad place. I feel useless."

"Don't put yourself down," Jenna said, walking towards him. "You're an amazing role model, especially for younger people."

Josh blinked. "You, think so?"

"I do. Plus, you're really cute. Has a girl ever told you that before?"

Josh blushed. "Err, no-one except my Nan. I don't think she counts."

"Women round here must be blind," Jenna added, making him squirm with embarrassment. She leant forward and planted a kiss on his lips. He trembled, cheeks turning redder.

"J-Jenna, don't,

"It's alright Josh. You're not committing a sin or anything. We're not inside the church, if that's you're worried about."

"N-no, it's not that. I, um, The curate sighed. "I, I'm just scared of, I don't know if I can, do this."

She already knew he was single and straight, but decided to question him. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, but, um, that's the problem really. I'd like one, but I wouldn't know how to tell her,

Jenna stroked his arm. "Tell her what?"

"I worry she'd laugh at me."

"Josh. Whatever it is, I promise I would never laugh at you. And I will understand."

He looked down. "Shit. I'm twenty-five. And I'm still a virgin! I've never gone beyond kissing a girl."

She kissed his cheek again. "Oh Josh. That's nothing to feel awkward about. In fact I admire you. In this age when we're bombarded with over-sexualized imagery 24/7 both online and offline, finding someone who's chosen to wait is pretty awesome in my opinion. I lost mine just days after reaching the age of consent. I couldn't wait to lose it. But that's just me,

"Yeah but, I, um,

She pulled him to his feet and gently coaxed the truth out of him. "You want to lose your virginity, yes?"

"More than anything. But, dating today is scary. It's a minefield. Especially after Me Too. I'm afraid. I don't want to say the wrong thing and come across as some horny creep,

Jenna held back a chuckle. Mrs. Norris probably thinks of me as a horny creep. She thought.

"I get that. But trust me. I don't think a sweet, kind-hearted man of God like you could ever be a creep. Horny yes, nothing wrong with that of course." She winked at him and he gulped. "How about it? I think you're ready right now."

His eyes widened. "W-what? Here?"

"Why not? It's nice and private, And you're a really sexy curate!" Her face was just inches from his own, hovering there. Then her lips were on his, dancing there softly for a moment before pulling away.

"Jenna, He was already rock hard, and hoped his cassock had disguised this fact.

"Shush. You're very special." She whispered, barely audible. "You're warm, caring, You're strong. You deserve to be experience the joys of the flesh." She kissed him again. It's okay to feel nervous. First time is always a bit nerve-racking. But just relax. You'll be just fine,

What an adorable lamb to the slaughter, Jenna thought to herself. He's so scared and unsure. I've never seduced a virgin before, so I'd better not go too hard on him. I do love a challenge. With a bit of encouragement, this sweet guy could have real potential.

The touch of her lips sent a fire through his body, a jolt that brought a tingle to every micron of his skin. "Oh, Jenna!"

"Shhh." Her lips caressed his own, then his nose, his ear. "Don't talk just now, okay?"

"Mmm?"

She kissed him again, gently caressing his upper lip between her own. At last, he responded.

"Josh." Jenna smiled cheekily. "You're a pretty good kisser, you know that?"

"Really?"

Just relax. I'm not going anywhere, there's no rush. All we have to do is discover each other. There's no hurry. No-one's going to come in here. I imagine the vicar will be busy for ages."

Jenna ran her hand down the front of his black cassock. "Oh my, you're more than ready. "Let's get these buttons unfastened." She knelt before him, opening the cassock and revealing the black trousers underneath. And another straining crotch bulge.

"I'm going to worship you," she whispered, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. Josh was wearing plain black briefs underneath. It was fun seeing the different types of undies men wore. First there was Reverend Morris with his "holy boxers," then Gordon and his sensible white y-fronts, now Josh with smart black tight-fitting briefs.

"Everything will be fine. I promise. Close your eyes if it makes you feel better, okay?"

The curate hesitated still, but Jenna's smile was reassuring and gentle. "I promise you'll like it." With a shudder, Josh squeezed his eyes tight as his trousers and underwear were lowered, and he could feel the cool air of the room, then Jenna's warm breath on his manhood.

"There we are."

He couldn't resist a peek, through half-closed eyes. He was painfully stiff, of course, harder than he'd ever been in his life, but he didn't need his eyes to tell him that. He shivered as Jenna ran her hand through his pubes and stooped to kiss him there. He gasped as her smooth palm encircled him.

"Oh my God!"

"Mmm. So beautiful. Truly God's gift to women. Just relax, don't fight the feeling. Isn't it nice?" Jenna kissed the very tip of his member, and he gasped and moaned, his muscles tensing. "Don't fight it now Josh, just let the feelings come. Relax and let it take you. You don't have to hold it back, just let it come." With that, she closed her lips around his head, tasted him with her tongue.

"Uh! Oh Jesus!" The curate groaned. The crescendo was boiling in him now, wonderful and frightening and exhilarating. Nothing could have prepared him for the warm embrace of a woman's mouth, the slight roughness of her tongue as she rolled it up and down his length. No porn, no fantasy could have approached the sensation of her lips gently drawing on his cock, coaxing him towards a peak of indescribable pleasure. The fire was in him and around him, consuming him and his thoughts until all that he was became the connection with her, his flesh and her mouth. Her hands cradled his cock gently as he built towards climax, his breathing becoming rapid and shallow.

"Oh,

"Let it come."

Josh sighed deeply in relief as Jenna enveloped him again, shuddered as he felt himself swell between her lips, as he released himself to her, surrendered to her, spurting his cum. She lingered over his manhood, slowly coaxing him down from the heights of his ecstasy. She gently licked his shaft and kissed a drop of his essence from the tip, and smiled up at him.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" She said, standing up. "Did you enjoy your first blowjob?"

"Jenna. Fucking hell!"

"I'll take that as a yes?"

"Yes!" he gasped.

"Oh good. Because we're not done yet. You don't get off that easily you know!" Jenna began unfastening her skirt, letting it fall to the floor. Josh's eyes widened. She wasn't wearing any panties.

An old, battered table was in the middle of the storeroom. Jenna cleared it and reclined on it, spreading her legs and unfastening her blouse. No bra!

"Your turn."

Josh crossed himself.

"Just trust your instincts." She whispered, lowering herself onto her back. Josh stared at her for a second, dumbstruck by her beauty and timid as a deer. Her gently smiling face and the flowing red hair that framed it, the round fullness of her breasts, her long legs, and the tantalizing lure of her wet womanhood between,

Finding his courage at last, Josh moved close. With a shaky hand he reached out and tentatively cupped her left breast. Tracing the nipple with his thumb, ever so gently.

"Mmm nice, Josh. Keep going!"

Encouraged, Josh lowered his mouth to her other breast, the memory of the delightful sensations she'd given him earlier fresh in his mind. He felt her run her fingers through his short blonde hair as he tasted her with his tongue, heard her sigh as he closed his lips around her nipple.

"Gently now."

"Sorry!"

The curate feasted on her breasts for a bit longer, before moving down to her abdomen, planting more kisses, then he paused for a moment. Jenna said nothing, silently urging him to carry on, and he did. Tentatively, he kissed the inside of her thighs, tracing a finger through the trimmed hair above her slit.

Josh continued to lovingly kiss her thighs, his nerves beginning to fade. The heady scent of her was overpowering, emboldening him to trail a finger between her cunt lips. The wetness he felt there surprised him, and he glanced up.

"You're doing great, Josh." Jenna answered in a throaty whisper. "Please don't stop."

He ran a finger over her clit, causing her to let out a moan. Lowering his head, he caressed her softly with his mouth, tasting her.

"Oh Josh, He suckled gently on her clit and she let out a scream.

"Jenna?" He pulled away from her, his fear returning. "Did I hurt you?"

"No Josh. It was incredible, that's all. When you licked me down there, wow. You sure know how to thrill a woman. You learn quick! But don't make me cum just yet. Because I want you inside me when it happens."

Josh's heart leapt into his throat. "Oh,

"Are you ready?"

"Um, but protection, I-I don't have a condom,

"It's okay, you don't need to worry. I'm on the Pill."

"Oh, right. Good,

"Think of this as doing God's work," Jenna purred, urging him to get on with it. She was eager to feel that virgin cock inside her.

Slowly he positioned himself above her on the creaking table. Jenna took his cock in her hand, guiding him. He felt the head of his organ nestle inside her.

"Lord in Heaven!" It was such exquisite torture, fighting the urge to cum as fast as he could. The feel of her cunt as it sheathed him was beyond even the joys he'd felt already.

At first, he slipped in and out of her slowly. He buried his face in her neck.

"Umm, oh God Josh. Yes! Go harder!"

Jenna slowly relaxed her control, allowing him to work his cock in and out of her more forcefully. He thrust in deep, as far as he could, and gasped, savoring the sensation.

"Oh Josh, that's so good!"

He speeded up, as she wrapped her legs round him. Soon he was pounding her like a pro.

"Jenna!" He could feel his climax coming now, a mighty force of almost Biblical proportions. Just as Jesus drove out many devils, Josh drove out his virginity, casting it aside forever. He'd been freed.

"Ugh!" With a roar of release the curate came, filling Jenna's womanhood with his seed. Josh wasn't sure how long his orgasm lasted. But he knew that it was wonderful, an epiphany of sensation, and that Jenna writhed and gasped in the throes of her own climax in perfect harmony with his.

When they'd both calmed down, Jenna held him close and kissed him. "Are you okay? You were amazing, Josh, do you know that? How are you feeling?"

"Just fantastic, absolutely fantastic! I, wow. That was, incredible. Um, do you mind if I say a quick prayer for both of us?"

"Not at all. You go ahead."

When he'd finished, he opened his eyes and looked at Jenna, who was smiling broadly. "You are going to become a bloody amazing vicar!" She said.

An Erotic Dream & an organ lesson.

T'was the Year of Our Lord 1739, and on a road bound for London, weary preacher and hymn writer Charles Wesley had just arrived at a tavern.

"Innkeeper! I hath been riding all day and my poor horse be in the great need

Solstice Changes: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Fri, 01 May 2026 07:32:21 +0000

Alone with my blind date on a moon-flooded hillside.

Based on the works of evans lily, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

"It's still not quite dark," I said, looking up at the ink-washed sky and noticing that only the brightest stars were visible.

"It's the longest day of the year tomorrow."

Of course. The summer solstice. "Does that mean that tonight is the shortest night then?"

Adam sent me a sideways glance. "It certainly feels like it."

I knew what he meant. The last two hours had flown by. "Well, it must be tonight or tomorrow night, I s'pose," I murmured, experiencing another inward glow of pleasure.

"The nights are all short at the moment. The bedroom in my new flat faces due east, which means the sun wakes me up pretty much every morning. Right now that's around quarter to five." There was a pause. "I really must buy some curtains."

I laughed softly. "Well, the sun never shines into my room. All I've got is a wonderful view of my neighbor’s potting shed." I smiled as he tutted in sympathy. "If I wanted to watch the sunrise I'd have to set my alarm and go outside."

"Or stay up all night."

"Hmm. One of these days I'll have to try that."

"You've never done it?" Adam seemed shocked. "Seriously?"

I shook my head. "It's on my list of things to do before I die." The moment I said it I wanted to bite off my tongue and throw it to the ducks. What the hell was I thinking? Now I really was being insensitive;

He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "What else is on that list?"

"Oh, lots of things. The usual sort of stuff."

"Like?"

Cornered, I searched my brain for possibilities. "Travel the world. Learn a foreign language."

"Do a bungee jump?"

I laughed. "No, I don't think so. And I wouldn't like to jump out of a plane with a parachute either."

"Oh, you should. I have."

"Really?" I glanced up at him with renewed respect. "What was that like?"

"The worst bit was jumping out of the plane. God, I was so scared. But after that, well; amazing. You don't even feel like you're falling; you don't get that stomach-dropping, going-down-a-rollercoaster feeling. It's more like floating on a bubble of air. Fabulous experience. And once it was over I just wanted to go back up and do it all again."

"Wow." I shook my head. "Still don't think I could do it though. I hate heights; God, I can't even do rollercoasters. So to jump out of a plane; "

He chuckled softly. "Too far out of your comfort zone, huh?"

"What made you do it? Was it something you'd always wanted to do?"

"It was on my list of things to do before I die. And when Claire died; well, it made me realize that you just don't know how long you've got. So when a group of guys I was working with said they were jumping for charity, I volunteered to have a go. Raised more than a thousand pounds for the air ambulance."

"Fantastic." I swallowed hard, humbled. I'd never done anything particularly altruistic. In fact, come to think of it, it didn't feel as though I'd done anything worthwhile with my life. "I s'pose you've done everything on your list then?"

"Not at all. You see, new things keep getting added all the time."

"Like?"

"Well; "

We'd slowed to a halt, having reached the second bridge already. Crossing it would mean going back along the other side of the river towards the bright lights of the city. Alternatively, we could carry on, pass through the sturdy wooden gate and take the path across the water meadows towards St Catherine's Hill. During the day, this was a popular route for walkers, locals and tourists alike, but now it was deserted, the pathway disappearing into darkness.

"I've never had a one night stand. Shall we?"

I let out a gasp. "What?"

He solemnly indicated the gate. "Walk a bit further?"

"Oh." My voice was small. "Yes."

Laughing; I had a feeling he'd chosen his words deliberately; he let go of my hand and ushered me forward into the gateway. It was one of those V shape constructions originally designed to give easy passage to people but not animals. The gate itself was attached to a fence post opposite the center of the V, hinged like a tongue so that it could flap against the two sides and only allow one person to pass through at a time. But instead of following me, the moment I'd passed through Adam grabbed the top rail of the gate and pushed it flush against the fence on my side.

"Hey!" Trapped, I took a swift glance at the darkened path ahead of me before turning back to peer at him over the barrier. "Aren't; aren't you coming with me?"

"Well that rather depends." He leaned on the rail and regarded me quizzically. "You see, this is a kissing gate."

Uh oh. I could see where this was going. "So if I want you to come with me; ?" As he inclined his head, my mouth went dry and my heart began to pound. "I see."

"It's your choice. And if you'd rather not, that's fine. We'll just head back to the high street and get you a taxi home; I promise to be the perfect gentleman. But I think you should know; ” He smiled, suddenly appearing rather nervous. "The idea of kissing you seems to have shot to number one on my latest list of things to do before I die."

Right now, the idea of kissing him seemed to be at the top of my own list; "I see," I said again, rather helplessly. "Well. Okay."

His eyes widened. "Okay?"

I watched his smile broaden to a relieved grin as he reached for me, grasping my hands. Then everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

Putting my arms around his neck, his own arms swept around my back, tugging me as close as the gate would permit. And when his warm, soft lips finally landed on mine, I wanted to cry out with the wonder of it. I clung to him, dizzy with desire, allowing the pressure of his tongue to open my mouth, my eyes crashing closed as I willingly yielded to his possession. It had been a long time since I'd been kissed; and no one had ever kissed me like this;

"Wow," he murmured, raising his head at last. Though he was smiling, he looked somewhat shaken. "I guess I'll have to come with you then."

I giggled, rather shaken myself. "I guess you will."

Releasing me, Adam opened the gate and came through, his hand once again finding mine as we started along the track. "You sure about this?"

My eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the darkness so I couldn't see his expression but the concern in his voice was obvious. "About going for a walk? Sure." I kept my own tone light, but the butterflies in my stomach flapped in anticipation.

What else had I consented to with that kiss?
A moon-flooded hillside.

If someone had asked me, just a few hours ago, whether I'd agree to take a late-night walk with a man I'd only just met;

Stranger danger. At the nursery school where I worked we were always telling the children about that. Never go off with a stranger, never take things from a stranger;

"Not past your bedtime yet then?" Adam teased, his hand warm in mine as we strolled along the path towards St Catherine's Hill.

I smiled. "Well, it is, actually. But I'm only working until lunchtime tomorrow, so I'll risk it."

"Got any plans for the weekend?"

"Nope. Just the usual. I'm meeting my friend Lisa for lunch tomorrow; ” oh, and wasn't she going to enjoy hearing about this? "; but then it'll just be cleaning, washing and shopping. I s'pose I might go to the pub with Lisa and her boyfriend on Sunday evening, but that's about it."

"No hot dates?"

"God, no." I looked up at him even though I still couldn't quite see his face, and realized with a jolt that I hadn't actually told him that much about myself after all. "No." I gave a short laugh. "I think it's time I got a cat."

"What?"

"You know. Single women of a certain age, living on their own; have cats."

"Oh, I see." He sounded rather puzzled. "Why in the world would someone like you need to get a cat?"

"Well, I quite like cats," I said, trying to ignore the prickle of awareness zinging down my spine. "They're soft and warm and cuddly; ”

"That's not what I meant."

I knew it wasn't. "I don't know," I admitted at last. "Like you, I was in a relationship for a long time. It's hard to start again."

He nodded. "Divorced?"

"No." I smiled, remembering how impressed he'd been that I hadn't immediately asked him that question. "Didn't make it as far as the altar, though everyone thought that's where we were headed."

"How long were you together?"

"Too long." I sighed heavily. "Started dating him when I was still at school, did the whole rebel thing. You know. Stayed out late and pissed off our parents, got drunk, drove too fast in his Dad's car; lost our virginity to each other in the back of that car; ”

"Romantic," Adam interjected.

"Nope, bloody painful, actually. There's not as much room as you might think on the back seat of a Ford Mondeo," I rolled my eyes when he smirked, unable to believe what I'd just told him. "Anyway, James got a job making wardrobes, we started renting a flat together and settled down into cozy coupledom."

"Until?"

I looked up at him and grinned. "Nah, sorry. I shouldn't be telling you any of this. Not on a first date, anyway." When he groaned, I bumped the side of my head into his shoulder, laughing. "Well! You wouldn't tell me about Claire."

"I know, I know." He spun me around and pulled me in front of him, peering intently into my upturned face. "But this doesn't feel like a first date, does it?"

I gazed at him for a moment, longing to be able to read his thoughts. "No, it doesn't," I agreed softly.

"Good." To my astonishment, he seized my hand again and marched on again, pulling me along with him.

"Hey!" I'd been so sure he was about to kiss me again I felt absurdly disappointed. "Does that mean you'll tell me about her?"

"When you've told me about James. What happened?"

As we emerged from the cover of some trees I became aware that our surroundings were no longer quite so dim, the grassy hillside before us clearly visible, picked out in numerous shades of monochrome. Turning my head, I found the light source; the moon, a huge, near-perfect orb, rising to our left.

"We grew out of each other, I suppose," I said eventually, my lips twisting slightly as I remembered how it ended. "Well, to be honest, I grew out of him. I think James would've been happy to have trundled on as we were until it was time to stick him in a coffin. He wasn't really interested in getting married, didn't seem bothered about having kids. Just wanted to go out every weekend, spend all our money in pubs and clubs and have a good time."

"You dumped him."

I wasn't surprised to hear the note of disbelief in Adam's voice. I still found it hard to believe I'd done it myself. "Yes. But he didn't take it too well."

That was the understatement of the decade;

Having decided it would be easier for me to leave, rather than attempt to persuade him to move out of our flat, I'd stayed with Lisa for a while. To start with there'd been countless phone calls, where he'd begged me, in various stages of drunkenness, to come back. Then there'd been the flowers. Enormous bouquets of roses, lilies and carnations. Next came letters and then poems; which always rhymed, usually in a facile 'Roses are red, violets are blue' kind of way.

"And then he started stalking me," I said, my attempt to sound matter of fact rather spoiled by being out of breath. We'd been climbing the hill for a while now and it was becoming apparent how unfit I was. "Waiting for me outside the nursery school, outside Lisa's house; everywhere he knew I'd be. Even Lisa couldn't make him stop; and believe me, she's usually good at stuff like that; so in the end I had to take out a Court injunction."

"Well, you broke his heart."

"Right." I gave a snort of derision. I hadn't expected Adam to take James' side. "Okay, thanks for that."

"He didn't stay in the flat, did he? He moved back home."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "How did you know that?"

"It's obvious. He was never going to wash his own underwear." He shook his head gravely. "You weren't his girlfriend, you were his Mum."

"What? No!" I punched his arm, appalled that he'd said it and even more appalled by the thought he might be right. "It wasn't like that."

"Really?" He grinned. "Okay. Who cooked all the meals?"

"He burnt everything; ” I hesitated in surprise as we strayed from the path, Adam tugging me on to the grass. "Short cut," he said simply, glancing down at me as he led the way across the moonlit meadow, now taking a brisk diagonal route towards the summit. "There's a much better view if you go this way. So who cleaned the flat?"

"Well; ” I stopped to slip off my sandals then ran to catch up with him, the cool grass feeling wonderful beneath my hot, aching feet. "I did. But only because he got eczema on his hands sometimes. And he hated wearing rubber gloves. He said they made him; ”

"Who did all the shopping?"

"Look, if I sent him, he'd pack the trolley with chocolate biscuits and family packs of crisps and forget to buy milk. It was easier just; ”

"To do it yourself," Adam finished. He flashed me another smile. "Hmm. I think, as Claire used to say, the case for the prosecution rests."

I had no defense.

"Oh no," I muttered, shocked to the core. "I really was his mother."

"No, he was just a lousy boyfriend." His tone softened abruptly. "Sweetheart, you deserved so much better."

The endearment caught me by surprise. Unsure how to react, I stopped and turned around, only for my breath to catch in my throat.

The city was a distant sprawl below us, the straight, crisscrossing roads of the old Roman settlement defined by lines of streetlamps, the orange glare they cast across the city making it easy to pick out landmarks. The university college to the north. My old school. The glass tower of the ASG building where Lisa worked. The roof of the nursery school where I worked away to the left. And then, below all that, the spire of St Michael's Church where I'd been christened as a baby and the ancient cathedral, floodlights bathing both in gold.

"Why haven't I done this before?" I whispered, shaking my head in disbelief. "Beautiful. So beautiful."

"I couldn't agree more." Behind me, Adam's voice was unexpectedly near, his breath warm on my ear. I let him prise the sandals from my fingers, watching as he placed them with his jacket on the grass. When he straightened up, one warm hand landed on my bare upper arm, the other gently swept the hair away from the nape of my neck. The knowledge he was about to kiss me there turned my knees to jelly and by the time his lips actually made contact I was trembling violently, my heart racing so fast I could barely breathe. "It's okay," he murmured, his steadying hands dropping to my waist. "This is only going to go as far as you want it to go. I know you aren't sure whether you can trust me, but I promise you that you can. And, oh God; ” he gave a short, rather uncertain laugh "; I can also promise you that I've never done anything as impulsive as this in my life. It's completely freaking me out."

I'd be lying if I said that I didn't hear Lisa's voice in my head imploring me not to trust him. Oddly enough though, another version of Lisa's voice was telling me that I should. Confusing;

"Why are you doing it then?" It came out as a whisper. My own voice didn't seem to be working properly at all. He laughed softly. "Good question. There doesn't seem to be anything I can do about it. I have to kiss you."

When I turned in his arms he did just that. His mouth was gentle at first, his tongue tentatively seeking my own as he gathered me close, fitting my softness into the hard planes of his body. And just as before, when he deepened the kiss, I began to lose all sense of space and time, my eyes closing as I surrendered to him, wholly and completely. I knew his hands on my shoulders, sliding down the spaghetti straps, his fingers teasing a path over the taut skin of my back, then travelling downwards, finding the zip at the back of my dress. But when he lowered it I whimpered into his mouth. "Hey," he murmured, sounding concerned. "Should I stop?"

I shook my head, still dazed by the pleasure of his kiss. He smiled, but made no attempt to recapture my lips. Slowly, his gaze holding mine the whole time, he brought his fingers around to my chest, hooking his thumbs into the front of my dress then easing the fabric forward and down. I gasped, the shock of exposure turning my already-hardened nipples into pebbles.

"No bra?" He seemed pleasantly surprised.

"No point," I countered, casting a nervous glance at my breasts, pearlescent in the moonlight. Mother Nature hadn't seen fit to give me an hourglass figure to make the most of my curves. I was a classic pear, all bottom and no top.

"I don't know about that." Adam didn't appear at all disappointed, taking a step back to look his fill, his hands holding the dress at my waist. "They're beautiful." His eyes lifted, his expression softening when he saw my disbelief. "You're beautiful."

It occurred to me that I should be afraid but I wasn't. There was something more than a little surreal; dreamlike even; about standing there half-naked in front of him, alone on a hillside. I was center stage in an empty theatre, the illuminated magnificence of the city serving as backdrop, Adam the only person in the audience.

"Really?" My voice had deserted me again, the sound coming out as a rather hoarse croak. "They're; they're too small."

He looked incredulous. "Who told you that?" Once again my expression must've spoken volumes for in the next moment he gave a disgusted snort. "Wanker," he said, shaking his head. "He really didn't deserve you."

I laughed weakly, heartened by the vehemence in his tone. "And you do?"

Whoa; Where had that come from? I hadn't intended to throw down the gauntlet.

He smiled. "Well, I guess I'll have to let you decide." Closing the space between us, he sought my lips and I was lost, drawn into a swirling vortex of bliss, my body becoming boneless beneath his assault. I moaned in protest when he paused, only to moan again as he turned his attention to my jaw, trailing kisses along to my ear, across my neck, my shoulder. He moved lower to the rise of my breasts then higher again, teasing and tormenting me into such a state of need that by the time he sank to his knees in front of me I was taut with anticipation. And when he finally drew one painfully erect nipple deep into the moist heat of his mouth, I cried out, powerless to stop the sound, a surge of pleasure flooding my body. His hands tightened to support me, a delighted grin lighting his face. "You nearly came."

It was true. I could feel the moisture pooling between my thighs, dampening my knickers. "Adam," I whispered helplessly, more aroused than I'd ever been in my life but too scared to ask for more, a tiny fragment of rational thought urging caution. "I've never done anything like this; ”

"I know you haven't. I haven't either." Though the words were spoken calmly enough, I heard a faint tremor to his tone. "But I want you."

I gazed down at him, weak with relief. "I; I want you too."

"Thank God," he muttered, releasing my waist. There was a soft swishing sound, a slight breeze and suddenly I was standing there in nothing but my knickers, my dress in a crumpled heap around my ankles.

"Wow." Standing up for a better look, Adam appeared gratifyingly stunned. "How could you possibly believe you aren't beautiful?" Heart thudding noisily in my ears, I took the hand he offered and stepped out of my dress, not daring to look anywhere but at his face, in that moment feeling more attractive, more desirable; hell, sexier; than I'd ever felt in my life. A moment later it occurred to me that one of us was still wearing altogether too many clothes. "It's your turn," I gulped, my

Jenna Goes To Church: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Fri, 01 May 2026 06:20:00 +0000

Jenna Goes To Church: Part 1

Jenna enjoys sexuality without shame, in the church.

A series in 17 parts, By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Jenna seduces the Vicar.

St Michael's parish church was a charming place of worship that dated back to the 12th century. A quaint little church, the sort that one could see in countless towns and villages across England. Within its walls however, all was not well. Ill-feeling festered among some of the male members of the church, the vicar included. But God, in his great mercy and wisdom, saw fit to send a beautiful angel to this church, in order to bring happiness.

And so, our story begins,

Reverend Simon Morris was a vicar who hadn't gotten laid in a long time. Aged forty, he'd been at St Michael's for nearly three years now. He prided himself on the success he'd had in increasing the congregation of this little church. The previous vicar, Reverend Smith, had died very suddenly from a stroke back in 2019, leaving the community devastated. Reverend Morris knew he had big boots to fill. So far, God had been with him all the way. He'd steered the church through the Covid pandemic and defied orders to close it during the lockdowns. This action had earned him a lot of respect, not to mention he'd gained a few more loyal sheep who'd deserted other churches.

There was just one area where God had been unable to help him - his sexless marriage. He'd been married to Lucy for nearly ten years now and they had a four year old son, Christopher. Unfortunately, it was shortly after Christopher's birth that the avenue of carnal pleasure was closed off to him. He'd tried everything to re-ignite the spark, but nothing worked. Now Christopher had started primary school, Reverend Morris had hoped that things would improve, but instead, he and Lucy drifted further apart. He kept up the appearance that everything was perfect, during the many social functions he had to hold at the vicarage. Inside however, his frustration threatened to overwhelm him.

"O Lord God, who hast called thy servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown: Give us faith to go out with a good courage, not knowing whither we go, but only that thy hand is leading us, and thy love supporting us; to the glory of thy Name.

Amen."

Reverend Morris said a quick prayer to himself as he shook hands with the last of the members of the congregation. He let out a sigh of relief. Another Sunday service had passed - with an increase in numbers. He looked at his watch. He had a brief few minutes to head to the vestry, change out of his cassock and surplice, and pop over to the church hall for tea and biscuits. The usual chit chat with his faithful flock.

The nosey old ladies, Josh, the new and nervous curate, Yulia the Ukrainian refugee and her two young children, Amir and Majid, the Iranian brothers who'd fled persecution in their homeland due to being Christians, Debbie the single mother and Sunday school teacher, Tony the reformed drug addict, Mr. and Mrs. Norris, the church's resident do-gooders; a pair of boomers who made it their business to know more about the C of E than the Archbishop of Canterbury,

Then there was Jenna Fox. Twenty, red haired and absolutely stunning. And too young for him.

He'd spotted her in the congregation earlier, but not on the way out. Which could only mean,

"Good morning Reverend!" Jenna said, bold as brass, sauntering out of the toilets, where she'd obviously been waiting for the others to depart.

"Oh, good morning Jenna," Reverend Morris replied, staring at her and then quickly averting his eyes downwards. She was wearing attire that was barely suitable for church - a low cut black top and black pleated miniskirt.

"I wore black today. For the Queen. Loved your sermon reflecting on her long reign. It was really touching."

"Thanks. Glad you liked it. It's been hard to write. So, are you heading over to the church hall? I'll be there shortly."

"Mmm, maybe later," she grinned. "Did you know Reverend, that you actually resemble Prince Edward a bit?"

Feeling a little uncomfortable at how close she was, he felt color rise in his cheeks. "Uh, well thanks. I'll take that as a compliment! Do excuse me Jenna, I just have to ditch these vestments, then I shall be going to the hall."

He hurried off to the vestry. In there, he looked at himself in the mirror. He was an average-looking bloke, not the sort that a stunning younger woman would lust after.

"Well at least I'm much younger than Prince Edward." He smiled. Suddenly, the door opened.

"You're not getting away from me this time Reverend," Jenna whispered, shutting the door behind her.

Before he could say anything, she'd cornered him. Glancing into his pale blue eyes for a moment, she covered his lips with hers, feeling him tense up as her arms reached round his back. After a few seconds, he relaxed, as if he knew resistance of any kind was futile. Jenna could feel the heat of his body through his cassock.

"I've wanted you for a long time Reverend," she murmured. "Ever since you taught me that Introduction to Christianity course six months ago."

"J-Jenna, this isn't appropriate. I, I am a married man!"

"Not a very happy one, I suspect. I can always tell." A shuddering sigh escaped him as her lips brushed his again. Jenna broke the kiss. "Is there any space in here to conduct unholy activities, Reverend?"

Powerless to resist this angel of sin, the smitten vicar grabbed her slim hips and motioned her to straddle his lap. "Jenna," he mumbled, rubbing one thumb over the outline of her hardened bra-less nipple through her thin top. "It's, er, been a long time since I was in a situation like this."

"Your wife,

"Lucy and I have been leading separate, and sexless lives for years."

"I'm sorry to hear that. So let me bring you some salvation."

He leaned in to kiss the exposed skin of Jenna's neck; his lips leaving a hot trail from just below her ear to the center of her throat at the neck of her black top. Then he took the lower hem of the top and pushed it up to bare her belly, and then her pert C-cup breasts. Leaning her back, he took one nipple with his lips and she gasped. He was not only willing, but rampant; as Jenna had suspected, it had been a long time since this man had got laid.

Even with the cassock and surplice on, there was no disguising the Reverend's raging erection. Jenna explored eagerly, desperately, reaching under the cassock, feeling his hard erection through his trousers.

Lord Jesus, Jenna was trembling so much with excitement. She'd had a clergy fetish for years and fantasized about seducing the vicar for such a long time. Reverend Morris returned his attention to her breasts and she was so wet she could almost feel herself dripping into her panties.

Without further ado, she unfastened his belt before reaching for his zipper. Reverend Morris attempted to remove his surplice.

"No, no, leave that on," Jenna said.

"As you wish." He mumbled holding up his cassock, almost unable to comprehend what was about to happen.

Jenna knelt in front of the vicar, pulled down the zipper of his trousers, and exposed white boxer shorts - adorned with little Christian crosses.

"Oh wow. Where did you get those, Reverend?" Jenna grinned.

He blushed. "Um, a church event I attended in London. The gift shop was quite varied,

"Umm." Jenna pulled down his trousers and boxers, freeing his heated cock.

"Ah. The staff of life."

She took his hot length in her hand, feeling it, and stroked it up and down as she licked and sucked at the tip.

"Oh dear God," Reverend Morris groaned.

As she groped his shaft, she realized just how wet with pre-cum it was.

"Ooh, Reverend you certainly have sinned," Jenna smiled. "Nice and wet - just how I like it." She teasingly licked the head of his cock before putting it in her mouth. She began to suck him off furiously, her head bobbing up and down faster and faster, her tongue licking the sensitive underside of his shaft.

"Oh, I am blessed!" He gasped.

Jenna licked every inch of his love pole, running her tongue cross every vein, igniting every nerve ending. The vicar cried out in joy. Then she withdrew and looked up at him.

In her throatiest, most sexy tone, she said, "Well Reverend, are you just going to stand there, or come and tame your lost sheep?"

Like a bolt of lightning, Reverend Morris kissed Jenna's lips as if they were the sweet fruit of Eden, and lifted her up. He pulled her drenched lacy panties off. It had been too damn long since he'd had pleasure so willingly offered to him like this. He parted her legs quickly, and, with no further warning, plunged his holy rod deep into her waiting cunt. He began to establish a fast-paced rhythm which soon had them both moaning in pleasure.

"Ah hah!" Jenna gasped. "Oh, Reverend. Yes! Right there. Deeper. Deeper! God that feels amazing! Oh! Ah! Oh, Yes!"

Jenna was in a state of complete euphoria. She had dreamt about what it would feel like to be fucked by a vicar, but never in her wildest dreams did she ever think it would be this incredible. He was a skillful lover, hitting the sensitive nerves within her tunnel, bringing her ever closer to that heavenly pinnacle.

Reverend Morris began to quicken his thrusts and rammed his hard staff deeper into her yearning vagina. He felt his climax coming; it was an uncontrollable wave of ecstasy. Faster and faster he thrust, the sound of colliding skin echoing throughout the vestry. Jenna kept on riding the vicar until he blasted his cum into her like a fire hose.

"Ah! Praise the Lord!"

Jenna looked at Reverend Morris, and for the first time in years, he looked truly satisfied.

"For what I hath received, I am truly thankful," he panted.

"Me too," Jenna replied, her insides filled with his thick cum.

In the afterglow of their sinful fun, they kissed each other softly, caressing one another lovingly. Reverend Morris couldn't stop smiling. So that was what he'd been missing out on. Dear God! He doubted that Lucy could ever match Jenna's standards, even if she suddenly turned into a raving nympho.

"I suppose, we should head over to the church hall," Jenna said, idly fingering his clerical collar. "More tea Vicar?"

Jenna Plays the Organist s Organ

Gordon Leesmith was not having a good day. Another Sunday, another morning Eucharist at St. Michael's, where he dutifully played the organ and directed the choir. It had all gone as planned, until the end of the service when that damned busybody John Norris had felt the need to vent his spleen.

"You played the wrong opening hymn, Gordon," John exclaimed, as the congregation departed. "Great is Thy Faithfulness was selected, not Love Divine."

"That's not what the vicar told me," Gordon muttered, not looking at him. He loathed this odious pedant.

"Anyways I just thought I'd let you know. Patricia and I were a little confused."

"No change there then," Gordon replied, unable to restrain himself. "Do you think maybe just for once you and wife might refrain from poking your noses into every bloody thing?"

John was so taken aback, he couldn't speak for a moment. "Well really! There's no need for language, Gordon. I was merely saying,

"Don't come the innocent with me, you're the biggest shit-stirrer in this church. I've seen the gossip you spread on Facebook. And I'll play whatever bloody hymn I like, thank you very much."

"I wouldn't argue in a church."

"I'll argue anywhere as long as I'm in the right. Now bugger off!"

Thus suitably chastised, the subdued John left, and Gordon was left to sort through his music sheets in peace. He adjusted his black robe and continued grumbling to himself. He wasn't always as grumpy and short-tempered as this. Years ago he'd been a jolly, fun-loving chap who enjoyed joking with other members of the church.

That was before his divorce.

Gordon was fifty-five, and had been organist and choirmaster at St Michael's for almost twenty years. Ten years ago, his wife Marjorie had run off with a man young enough to be her son. She was fifty and her lover was a twenty-five year old personal trainer. They'd met online. Gordon's world had been knocked for six. He never imagined Marjorie would cheat on him. They'd always been so happy, with a very active sex life.

Jenna had been quietly observing the little outburst with much interest. After expressing an interest in joining the choir, Reverend Morris had warned her that the organist had the "shortest of short fuses." When she'd pressed him further, the vicar had revealed the details of Gordon's marital problems and sworn her to secrecy.

Jenna licked her lips. She was aching for a romp with Reverend Morris right now, but he'd been asked to conduct a service at another local church this morning, and a female vicar had stood in for him. What was a horny lass to do?

"Poor, miserable Gordon." Jenna mused. "I doubt he gets much action. He needs cheering up." Looking at him, she thought him quite good looking for an older man. He had a full head of silvery hair and unlike Reverend Morris, was of a stocky build. On the occasions she'd seen him minus his long black robe, he possessed quite a paunch. Jenna idly toyed with a strand of her hair, considering her next move. Gordon was giving off daddy kink vibes.

"I wonder if the organist will let me play with his organ?"

Gordon was busy rifling through hymn books and didn't notice Jenna saunter over at first. She cleared her throat and he glanced round.

"Uh. Can I help you with something?"

"Oh hello," Jenna replied, acting rather coy. "I, hope I haven't caught you at a bad time, Mr,

"Gordon. Bad time? There's never a good time," he muttered, giving the usual gruff response. "Nothing personal."

"Well I just wanted to thank you, Gordon. You played my favorite hymn, Love Divine. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed it."

His attention captured, Gordon finally put down the books he was fiddling with and sat on the organ stool, facing her. "You did?"

"I love anything by Charles Wesley. His hymns are amazing."

"Indeed they are. He wrote thousands during his lifetime."

Gordon certainly was hard to read. Jenna wondered if she was having any effect on him at all. His dour expression didn't give anything away. It looked like this chap was going to be quite a challenge.

"Every week I come to church and I hear you play these lovely old hymns on this fine organ." Jenna continued. "I love hearing you play."

"I've had enough practice. I've been doing this for many years now."

Evidently, Gordon wasn't used to receiving any kind of compliments whatsoever.

Jenna walked closer. "You're so talented."

"Ah, well. That's, nice of you to say. What's your name?"

Her persistence seemed to be paying off, and the organist appeared to be getting a little flustered at her flattery.

"Jenna."

"Do you play any musical instruments, Jenna?" Gordon replied.

"Just the piano."

He nodded. "Good, good. For work or just a hobby?"

"Oh purely as a hobby," she smiled, flicking her red hair. "I was wondering, please could you play a bit of Charles Wesley for me?"

Gordon's stern face finally relaxed into a smile. "Why certainly. What would you like to hear?"

"Oh how about And Can It Be?"

He shuffled around on the stool. "Very well. I often practice a bit after the morning service, when the others have left. I'm not one for idle chatter in the church hall."

"Me neither," Jenna said, walking up to beside him, so close that her cleavage was at his eye level. Gordon couldn't help but give a side glance, and then quickly looked ahead.

"Right, are you ready?"

The strains of the great Wesleyan hymn filled the church as Gordon's fingers graced the mighty organ. Jenna hummed along, and then an idea came into her head. Suddenly, Gordon stopped playing.

"I don't hear any singing, Jenna. How about you sing whilst I play?"

"Ok!" She grinned, and he resumed playing.

"And can it be, that I should gain - An int'rest in the Savior s blood?"

Jenna deftly unfastened the first button on her white top.

"Died He for me, who caused His pain,For me, who Him to death pursued?"

Gordon happened to glance to his right again, and almost played a wrong note. Jenna continued singing.

"Amazing love! How can it be, That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?"

She unfastened another button. Gordon continued playing, and as the chorus approached, the third and final button of her top was swiftly unfastened.

"Amazing love! How can it be, That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?"

Gordon's eyes almost popped out of his head and he cleared his throat.

"Go on, play a second verse!" Jenna said.

He continued to play, but could feel his face burning. Jenna was singing her heart out, and seemed to be blissfully unaware that she'd suffered a wardrobe malfunction, she wasn't wearing a bra! Bloody hell, what a beautiful pair of tits, Gordon was uncomfortably hot all at once. He was no stranger to internet porn - after his divorce, porn was the only thing he could turn to in order to get a bit of relief, not that it really relieved him all that much, in fact it didn't turn him on at all anymore, he'd become impotent. Suddenly, with the young and beautiful Jenna inches away from him and, somewhat exposed, his dormant cock had surged back into life and was now straining against his underpants and trousers,

"Just one more verse, Gordon! I'll give it my all."

He continued playing and she resumed singing, her pale, pert breasts jiggling, inches from his face.

"Oh dear God," Gordon thought to himself. What a situation to find oneself in. "Should I say something to her?

Touching Toni: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Fri, 01 May 2026 03:34:00 +0000

Touching Toni: Part 2

Best friends make the most of an arrangement.

Based on a post by L Kilkenny. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

A Week To Come.

"Good morning, Jake," his mother said when he came downstairs for breakfast.

"Morning Mom," he smiled at her. "Something smells good."

"Scrambled eggs and bacon," she smiled. It was still his favorite.

Jake just smiled, made a plate for himself, and his mother, and sat down at the table while she was taking the last of the eggs out of the pan and putting them into the bowl that he had just half emptied to make their plates.

Jake was already through his first serving when Diane sat down and started on hers.

"Where's Dad?" Jake asked, noting his absence.

"He's golfing today. I told him he could golf this weekend if he would come on my work retreat with me this coming week," she replied while continuing to eat.

"Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about that. Aren't Toni's folks going to that too?"

"Yes, since Charlotte and I work together we kind of have to go, but luckily your Dad and Henry have agreed to go with us so it should be a good time."

"Sounds like fun. A whole week in cabins on the lake," Jake said.

"Yeah, as long as the events don't get too corny," she smirked. "Last year they had some motivational group come in and we had to do all these trust exercises and stuff. I think it's going to be a little more relaxed and free flowing this year. There are some set agenda items, but much of the time is supposed to be devoted to really relaxing and decompressing. That's one reason they're allowing spouses to come this year, to make it kind of a seminar and a vacation."

"Well, I hope y'all have a good time," Jake said, "y'all deserve it."

"Well thank you Jake," she smiled at him.

"I expect you'll look after Toni while we're all away. I think this is the longest either of you have been alone so we expect you to look out for one another," his mother said.

"Yes ma'am," Jake said, keeping his head down, looking at his empty plate, "I won't let anything happen to her," he promised.

Work Retreat.

It was a warm and sunny Texas afternoon and Jake had seen his parents off to their week-long retreat. He had just finished his workout in the home gym his family had in the basement and was coming up to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water when he heard the front door open and close. No one had rung the doorbell so that left two options. Either he was getting burglarized, or ....

"Jake?" He heard Toni's voice call out.

"Yeah," he said coming to the top of the basement stairs.

Toni came from the den into the kitchen as he came in from the other side.

"Been working out I see," Toni said, looking at his sweaty body dressed in a tank top and gym shorts, and feeling a warmth starting to spread from her center outward. "He looks yummy!" she thought to herself.

"Yeah, a little bit," he said looking at her in her jean shorts, wearing a snug fitting tank top. Texas summers were no joke, even in Northern Texas, so clothing was usually chosen more for its cooling properties than style. Her hair was braided in a long braid, reaching to her waistline.

"Cool, I just thought I'd come hang out over here since everybody's gone. I don't really like being completely alone," she confessed.

"Sure, no problem," Jake said, "Let me run take a shower and then we'll hang out."

"Sounds good to me," she said, going back into the den and turning on the TV.

Jake ran upstairs, got some clean clothes and jumped in the shower. He showered quickly, threw on his clothes, hung up his towel, and headed back downstairs.

Toni was sitting on the couch with her shoes in the floor and her long legs pulled up under her. His heart skipped a beat as he saw her sitting there. She looked up and saw him standing in the door way and smiled her little half smile which made her green eyes sparkle.

"So what's on the agenda for today?" Jake asked.

"Well," Toni said, "Kaylee is having a get together at her pool this evening and invited us."

"Sounds good," Jake said. He really didn't care much for crowds, but he knew Toni wanted to go so....

"Really?" Toni asked, her eyebrows slightly raised.

"Sure," Jake said. "I don't have anything else to do, and I did promise my mom that I'd keep an eye on you."

"Okay, go grab what you need and then we'll run over to my house and I'll get my stuff," she said, leaning down to put her sandals back on.

Jake went up to his room, put on his socks and shoes and grabbed a pair of swim trunks and an extra tee shirt, his sun glasses and a UT ball cap. Throwing everything in a gym bag, he headed back down stairs where Toni was waiting. They went out, locking the front door behind them.

Jake tossed his bag into the truck before following Toni over to her house.

"Come on up," she said, heading up the stairs. "I just need to grab a few things."

Jake followed along behind.

He looked around her room as he stood in the doorway. It was a typical teenage girl's room he assumed. He had only seen two teenage girls' rooms and they were pretty much the same. Posters of the latest celebrity heart throb, soft pastel colors, white bedroom furniture, a queen sized bed with a floral print comforter. She had a shelf, built like a pyramid, so each successive level had a shorter shelf.

On the bottom, she had five sea shells she and Jake had collected when their families had vacationed together at the beach a couple of summers ago. The next shelf had 4 snow globes that her Dad had gotten from his company travels over the years. Next were 3 plastic horses that Jake had given her over the years. One white, one black, and one a buckskin. Toni loved horses. Above that were 2 pictures. One was her and Jake, not long after he'd moved in next door, and the other was her and Jake at their high school graduation. The first picture had always been there, the second she changed every so often with a new one, and the replaced one went into an album she kept in her book shelf.

The top row was a single small shelf, and on it sat a pitiful little toy car with most of the paint missing and only three wheels. It had held the top spot on the shelf since she got it. It was her most prized possession.

"Hold this open," Toni said, handing him her bag.

Jake dutifully held the bag while she went around the room, digging things out of dresser drawers, closets, and clothes baskets. She reached in, grabbing an extra pair of panties and a bra which she threw toward the bag, but overshot slightly, hitting Jake right in the face with them. The bra bounced off and landed on his arm, the panties however hung there precariously from the bill of his hat, the light cotton fabric not having enough weight or gravity to fall.

"Oops," Toni giggled, "sorry about that."

Jake blew on the panties and they dislodged and fell into the bag. "Uh, no worries," he said, his face now flaming red.

Toni grabbed the rest of her stuff, tossed it in the bag, and grabbing the bra still laying across his arm, put it in the bag as well.

"Ready to go," she announced.

Jake zipped the bag up and following Toni, headed back down stairs.

Kaylee’s House.

A dozen or so people were already at Kaylee's house when they arrived. It was about a half and half mix of guys and girls. Everyone was laughing, splashing and having a good time. Jake and Toni went into the pool house to change into their swim suits. Toni went into the changing room and Jake went in the bathroom where he changed into his swim trunks and a navy blue sleeveless tee shirt. They came back out at about the same time. Toni had on the turquoise bikini with a white wrap around her waist that went almost all the way to the floor. Jake's pulse tripled in an instant and he could feel himself beginning to get erect at the sight of her. He picked up a beach ball that was sitting in the corner and held it in front of himself, hoping she wouldn't realize what he was doing. He was scared to think of what Toni would say if she knew he was having these thoughts about her. He was her best friend, and was supposed to protect her, but lately he felt like it was him she needed protection from.

They went out of the pool house and Jake jumped immediately into the pool, hoping the cool water would help cool him off, both literately and figuratively. He watched as Toni went over to say hi to Kaylee and Steve who were sitting on the covered swinging chair.

"Hey Toni," Kaylee said as Toni walked up to her. "You remember Steve," she said, patting him on the leg.

"Yes, hey Steve," Toni said.

"Hey Toni," Steve replied. "Hey, I wanted to apologize about Travis. Kaylee told me about what he tried to do with you. He's a freaking idiot and a steroid jock. We went by his Dad's house and let him know that if he showed his face around here, or especially you, that we'd help your boyfriend beat his ass."

"Her what?" Kaylee asked.

"Her boyfriend, the tall guy she's always with." Steve turned to Toni. "Isn't that your boyfriend?"

"No," she said, looking at Jake standing in the pool, leaning against the side, his eyes closed and his head tilted back, his face to the sun, "he's my best friend. He has been since we were six years old."

"He must be a good friend because he messed Travis up. He had busted teeth, a fractured jaw, a concussion. That's the kind of damage done by someone that loves you." Steve said, "in my opinion anyway."

Could that be true Toni pondered? Could he love her the way she loved him? She knew he loved her, but was it the kind of love that would make him want her the way she wanted him?

"He watches you," Steve said, "not creepy stalker like, but like you're very special to him. I noticed it at the lake the other day, that's why I thought y'all were together."

"Toni!" Someone was coming through the crowd toward her.

"Stormy!" Toni exclaimed as the blonde girl made her way through the small crowd of people.

Stormy Davis was the stereotypical blonde bomb shell. She was 5'7", long wavy blonde locks, bright blue eyes that Toni had wondered more than once if they were colored contacts. She had an hourglass figure with large tits that weren't what Nature provided but were really expensive, a slim waist, and flared hips. She had been the head cheerleader her senior year at their high school. Toni was never a cheerleader, preferring instead to actually play sports instead of cheering for them. She had played basketball, volleyball, softball, and soccer.

Stormy finally reached the small group and gave Toni a hug.

"So, how have you been since graduation?" she asked Toni.

"Just trying to enjoy the summer before starting to college in the fall," Toni said.

"So where's Jake?" Stormy asked, looking around. Everyone knew you rarely saw one without the other.

"He's in the pool," Toni pointed him out.

"Mmm, I wish he'd take that tee shirt off. I can see his big shoulders, arms, and chest through the shirt, but I bet they'd look a lot better without it," she said wistfully.

Toni suddenly had the urge to take Stormy over to the pool and hold her head underwater. Where did that come from? Was she jealous of Stormy wanting so see Jake's body. Short answer: hell yes, she was. Stormy had a reputation that seemed to come along with being head cheerleader. Rumor was that she was very sexually active and that once she set her sights on a guy, that was it. They were conquests to her, and once she got what she wanted, she moved on to the next one.

Toni suddenly wanted to introduce her to Travis, but then immediately felt bad. Sexual-free-spirit or not, no woman should ever be forced to do something they didn't want to do.

"He has a sensitivity to the sun," Toni said, repeating the story that had been made up years prior to explain why he never took his shirt off in front of anyone. "His back and chest break out in an awful rash if they get too much sun."

"Well that's just a shame," Stormy said, watching Jake in the pool.

Toni took her wrap off and set it on the seat next to Kaylee. "I'm going to go jump in for a bit," she said, walking off toward the pool.

Jake saw her coming and smiled. She took three running steps and jumped, right at him. He tried to catch her, but her momentum took them both to the bottom of the pool.

Jake came up for air, and saw Toni had already surfaced, laughing. He couldn't help but smile as the reflections of the sunlight off of the water danced across her emerald eyes.

She swam over next to him and whispered in his ear. "Somebody's been checking you out."

"What?" he asked, surprised.

"Yep, Stormy Davis was just up there asking me all about you," Toni teased.

He looked up and spotted Stormy, and she did appear to be looking and smiling at him.

"Why would she be asking about me?" he asked, confused.

"Well, apparently she thinks my best friend is a hunk," she said, winking at him.

Stormy was beautiful in a movie star sort of way. Her folks came from old Texas Oil, so she was rich, and could afford the best of everything and she was used to getting her way. Toni wondered if Jake might be interested in Stormy.

Jake had never dated. He would talk to the girls in their circle of friends, but he had never sought out a girl in a romantic sense. She had attributed that to his past, and not trusting intimate relationships, but as they got into their teens she expected hormones to take over and that natural drive that seems to exist in every man to reproduce the species to come forth, but for Jake, he had never pursued anyone that she knew of. Was he truly so broken that he might never have a loving physical relationship?

"Yeah, right," Jake said. "She could have any guy in our class."

"I think she's already had most of them," Toni quipped with a wicked smile.

Jake just grinned. His best friend had a caustic wit when she wanted to.

"Maybe you should ask her out," Toni suggested.

"Uh, what?" Jake asked, stunned.

"I know she'd go out with you."

"Well, I can't," Jake said.

"Why not?" Toni pressed.

"I just can't." Jake suddenly had that look in his eyes, like a trapped animal. He turned, climbed up the ladder and headed straight to the pool house.

Toni stood there, watching him practically run into the pool house. What had that been about? Had she pushed him too far? Was he really that afraid of intimacy? She felt horrible for making him scared like that. She got out of the pool, got her towel to dry off, and collected her wrap.

She decided to give him a little time and assumed that he would be back so she mingled, speaking with friends here and there, mostly Kaylee and Steve. After nearly an hour had passed and Jake was still not back, she began to get worried.

She went to the pool house and looked around, but Jake was nowhere to be found. She looked where he had put their bags. Her bag was still there, but his was gone.

She went back outside and looked around but couldn't find him. She walked around to where they had parked the truck. His truck was there, but when she opened the door, she saw his keys lying in the seat. She knew he hadn't left them there when they had arrived, so she assumed that he left on foot, but had left her with the truck to get home.

Toni quickly went back to the pool house, threw her shirt and shorts on over her swimsuit, and headed out. She drove his truck toward his house, expecting to see him before she got there, but he was not on the road. Had he walked the whole five miles back home this quickly?

She parked the truck and mounted the front steps of the house. The front door was locked, but she had his truck keys, and knew where the hidden key was on the front porch. Unlocking the door, she ran up the stairs to his room. The door was open so she looked in. Jake was lying on his back on the bed. His arms folded over his face. His chest still moving up and down rapidly from the exertion of running all the way home, his blonde hair was plastered to his forehead from the swimming and the sweat. His face and arms were flushed.

Toni padded over on bare feet and eased herself down on the bed next to him. Laying her head on his chest and stretching her arm over his stomach. She felt his body tense at her touch. He had always avoided physical contact with everyone, except for his parents, and her. She was afraid that she might suddenly lose her place in this exclusive club. She started to remove her arm when he reached down with his left hand and stopped her. Holding her arm across his stomach.

"Toni, I'm sorry," Jake started out.

"No Jake, I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have teased you like that."

"No, it's not your fault. I know you didn't mean anything by it, it's just that the thought of asking out a girl, while I'm already in love with another girl; it just wouldn't be right." He said it in a low whisper.

"What do you mean, you're already in love with another girl?" She was both thrilled and terrified of what his answer might be.

"Toni," he confessed. "I love you. I always have, and I always will. I love you as my first and best friend, but I also love you in another way."

"And what way is that?" Toni asked, feeling light headed and giddy.

"In a way that I want to kiss you, and hold you in my arms forever. In a way that I want to make love to you if someday you loved me too."

"Well," Toni whispered in his ear, her hot breath causing an almost instant erection. "Welcome to someday Jake, because I do love you, too."

Jake moved his other arm and looked down at Toni who was looking up at him. She slowly moved up, never taking her eyes off of his, and placed her lips softly on his. Her right hand slid up his chest, up the side of his neck before moving to the back of his head, drawing his head down even further. Her mouth opened ever so slightly and her tongue reached out tentatively and touched his lips. At first she felt him stiffen, but then he opened his mouth and let her tongue enter. As it touched his tongue it was like an electric shock that flowed through his whole body. Jake's arms tightened around her body, pulling her on top of him. He could suddenly feel her tits pressing into his chest. As he kissed her more passionately she started to move her hips in such a way that she was rubbing directly on top of his rock hard erection.

"Umm," they both moaned in unison.

"Oh Jake," Toni said as she kissed neck, "I have wanted this for so long now."

"Me too." Jake whispered, nuzzling her neck and ear. "I have loved you, really loved you for so long now. I was so scared to act on it because I was afraid if you didn't feel the same way that you wouldn't or couldn't be my friend anymore and I just couldn't bear to think of that."

"Oh, baby. I thought the same thing. You have never expressed any interest in girls so I didn't know if that was something you were even interested in. I know the terrible things that you lived through, and that could mess someone up for life, and I'm not saying you're broken, but I wouldn't blame you if you had some reservations about getting in a physical relationship. I know how you are about being touched, and I know you tolerate it from me, but I didn't know if you actually liked it."

"You're right. I did have a rough go at the start. I know that since I came here that I'm safe, and cared for and loved, but I know I still have an issue about being touched. There are some memories that I don't know if I'll ever be able to repress, but that first day that you climbed the fence into my back yard and we played cars, and then I gave yo

Touching Toni: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Thu, 30 Apr 2026 03:33:00 +0000

Touching Toni: Part 1

Best friends find they both want something more.

Based on a post by L Kilkenny. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Jake awoke from what was apparently a very good dream since he could feel his erection straining against his boxers. Lying on his side, facing the wall, he was still in that transition between sleep and wakefulness. Taking a deep breath and stretching he noticed a distinct and familiar smell. It was floral and fresh with a hint of strawberry. He started to roll over but something was pressed against his back. Craning his head around the first thing he saw were bare feet with red painted toe nails, ankles crossed with one foot lightly bouncing. Turning his head further, he saw bare legs, smooth, shapely, tan, and athletic. He next saw blue-jean shorts over narrow hips, a tucked in white tee shirt concealing firm, proud tits, one of which was covered by a cascade of blue-black hair which came almost to the waist, a long slender neck, clean jawline, supple lips, narrow nose, and deep emerald green eyes. The eyes, and the lips, held a smile as Jake looked at his unexpected visitor.

"Morning sleepy head," Toni said pertly.

"Hey Toni," Jake said sleepily, in his deep soft voice. "What's up?"

"Uh, not you," she joked. "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to wake up today. I started to wake you once, but you sounded like you were having a really good dream so I just got comfortable and waited for you to wake up."

"What time is it? How long have you been here?" Jake asked, still keeping his back to her because his erection was still raging.

Toni looked down at her phone. "It's 9:30 in the morning and I've been here about an hour or so."

"So what are you doing here so early on a Saturday morning?"

"Will you go with me to the mall today?" Toni asked.

"Uh, yeah, sure. I just need to take a shower," Jake said.

"Okay," she said looking at him with her trademark half-smile. She waited a full five seconds to see if he would move. He didn't.

"I'm going to get some orange juice," she said getting up off the bed. "You want some?"

"Uh, sure," he said, still looking back over his shoulder.

Toni left her sandals on the floor next to his bed and padded barefoot out the door, headed to the kitchen.

Jake jumped out of bed with tented boxers. He grabbed some clean underwear, a pair of khaki shorts and a tee shirt and headed down the hall to the bathroom, but only after looking both ways at the door to make sure no one would see him.

Turning on the shower as soon as he got inside the bathroom, he stripped his boxers off and threw them in the hamper.

Feeling the water before stepping into the shower, he put both hands on the wall and let the water flow over his head and down his back. At 6'3" he had to bend slightly at the waist to get his head below the shower head. His broad back was pale compared to his face, neck and arms which were nicely tanned. Jake had the classic farmer's tan, meaning he was rarely out in the sun without a shirt on. The reason for that was evident in the raised red scars crisscrossing his back.

Fostered.

Jake had grown up in the foster care system. His mother had abandoned him on the steps of a church in Cleveland, Ohio when he was a day old. He was handed over to social services and placed with a family that made a living out of gaming the foster care system. Child care was not on their list of priorities. He was barely fed, never loved, and when the man of the house had a little too much to drink, the boy became the target of his evil inclinations.

When he was 6 years old, and after a particularly harsh beating, he had waited until his foster parents had finally passed out from drink, took the only thing he owned, a small metal car with one wheel missing, and he left. It was raining and cold. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he wasn't staying here anymore.

He walked down the dimly lit sidewalk, passed street corners where hookers and drug dealers plied their trades, past darkened alleyways where junkies snorted and injected drugs, some of them for the last time. He felt invisible, as he had so often in his home. Unseen and unheard until fate or just plain bad luck seemed to shine a spotlight upon him, making him the most visible thing in the room. A target. On this night though, thankfully, he remained invisible. Cold and wet, but invisible to those around him.

Suddenly he smelled something that smelled like heaven. Someone was cooking and his stomach was growling. Driven by hunger, he followed his nose down an alley until he found a door propped open and the smells coming out where too much to resist. He went inside and found a pan of fresh bread rolls. He grabbed one and started eating. He didn't hear the large man that walked up behind him.

"Would you like a glass of milk with that?" a voice behind him asked.

He spun around like a cornered animal, looking for an escape.

The man could see the fear in the boy's eyes. He backed up so that he wasn't too imposing and knelt down on one knee. "It's okay son, I'm not going to hurt you," he said holding his empty hands, palms out, toward him. "Would you like some eggs and bacon?" he asked.

"What's bacon?" the boy asked quietly.

"What's bacon?" the man asked stunned. "Well son, it's only the best dang breakfast food on the planet. It's practically its own food group."

"I've never had any bacon," he said, unable to meet the man's eyes.

"What's your name son?"

The boy stood, not answering, looking down at the floor.

"It's okay son, you're not in trouble. My name's Mike." He held out his large hand.

The boy automatically flinched back, away from his hand.

"Hey, hey, hey; it's okay. No one's going to hurt you, I promise," Mike said soothingly. "You do have a name don't you?"

The boy shook his head slowly, side to side.

"Well, how about we call you, uh, Jake?"

"Jake," the boy whispered. It was the first time in memory that he had an actual name, other than kid, brat, bastard, or any of a hundred names of the type. He nodded his head and said again, "Jake."

"Okay Jake, how about those eggs and bacon?"

"Okay," Jake said, his head slowly nodded.

Scrambled eggs and bacon soon became Jake's favorite food in the world. It was so good. He had eaten two scrambled eggs and was on his 6th piece of bacon when he heard someone knocking on the back door of the diner.

"Jake, this is John." Mike said, introducing the man who came in. "John is a policeman and he helps people."

"Hey Jake," John said. Mike had already warned him about trying to touch the boy. "Like Mike said, I'm a police detective. My job is to help people. Do you need help, Jake?"

Jake sat, looking at Mike and John for a few moments before very slowly nodding his head.

"Okay, finish your breakfast, and we'll get Mike to make you a sack lunch to take with us, and we'll go for a ride in my car, okay?"

"Okay," Jake whispered.

"Hey Mike, would you have any of MJ's clothes here? He's about Jake's size isn't he?" John asked. MJ was Mike Jr., Mike's 5 year old son.

"You know, I think I do. I keep a change of clothes for him here because whenever he comes by to visit he invariably gets something on his shirt or his pants so I keep a couple sets of clothes here."

Mike left the room and soon came back with a shirt, pair of pants, and even a pair of sneakers.

"Hey Jake, would you like to change into some dry clothes?"

"Okay," Jake said.

"All right, come on back here where you can have some privacy."

Mike took Jake to his office and gave him the clothes, "Here you go bud, put these on."

Mike closed the door, but walked around the side of the office where there was a window. He just wanted to make sure Jake could get changed okay. When he looked through the window, the blood drained from his face. "John," he hissed.

John came over and looked through the window. He saw Jake gingerly removing his old, wet tee shirt. The red lashes across his back were angry, swollen, and fresh. "My God," Mike said in an emotional whisper. John simply shook his head. In his line of work, he had seen this type of thing far too often, and he never got used to it.

When he was changed, Jake was taken to the police department where he was able to give the names of his foster parents. They were arrested, charged, and would be in prison for many years to come.

John called his sister, Diane, in Texas, because he knew that she and her husband had recently found out that they would never be able to have children and had been talking about adopting. He arranged with the social services representative to meet with Diane and Bob Hardin. Within the month, Jake was getting on his first airplane, bound for Dallas, Texas.

Bob and Diane understood the uphill battle they faced with Jake. They knew that years of abuse would be hard to overcome, but they were kind, patient, supportive and now Jake was 18, having just graduated in the top five percent of his class, with academic scholarships for pretty much anywhere he wanted to go. He still had his physical scars, and his emotional scars. He still did not like to be touched. He would willingly accept physical contact from only three people. His adopted parents and Toni Flint.

Jake moved in with Bob and Diane, to a quiet suburb in The Colony, Texas. Soon after, he was outside, playing in their spacious back hard. Though his adoptive parents had bought him many new toys, he still played with his familiar old three wheeled car. On this day, as he played, he heard a voice call to him with a simple, "Hi."

Jake turned to see a girl about his age standing at the fence between his yard and the yard next door. She was tan with long hair that was shiny black like a crow's wing. She had green eyes that seemed to look into his soul.

"Hi," Jake said.

"What's your name?"

"Jake."

"Hi Jake, I'm Toni."

"Isn't that a boy's name?"

"Not when you spell it with an 'I'," she said pertly.

"Do you want to play?" Jake asked her.

"Sure." Toni climbed the chain link fence without a moment's hesitation.

"What are you playing?" Toni asked him.

"Cars," Jake said.

"Okay. Do you have another car?"

"No, but you can play with mine," Jake said, handing her the beat up little car.

"Thank you," Toni said.

After playing and talking for a while, they heard a voice calling. "Toni, Toni Flint!"

"Oh, there's my mom," Toni said, holding the little car out to Jake.

"You can keep it," Jake said quietly.

Toni looked at the pitiful little car and smiled a little half smile. "Thank you," she said and reached out and grabbed Jake in a big hug. Jake stood stock still for a second before slowly reaching his arms around her.

Diane Hardin, watching from the kitchen window smiled, even as a tear fell from her eye.

Toni and Jake has been inseparable best friends ever since.

Morning Routine.

After taking care of his morning wood, Jake finished showering, jumped out, dried off quickly, brushed his teeth, shaved, put on after shave and deodorant, and finally put on his shorts and tee shirt. Back in his room, he found Toni, again laying back on his bed, holding her phone in one hand and a pop tart in the other. Two glasses of orange juice, one already half empty, sat on the bedside table.

He was still rubbing his head with a towel when he walked into the room. He threw the towel on the desk chair, and grabbed some socks and shoes. Putting them on, he said, "Okay, ready to go."

Toni looked over at him and shook her head while making little clucking noises with her tongue. Swinging her long legs over the side of the bed, she pointed back at the desk chair.

"Sit," she commanded.

Jake looked at Toni and sat back down in the desk chair.

Walking over to his dresser, she picked up a comb and walked around behind his chair. She ran her fingers through his wild mass of blonde hair. His hair was close cut on the sides and back, but longer on the top in what was called a side-part fade. For some reason, he always forgot to comb his hair. He was very hygienic, always clean, showered, shaved, but he never seemed to remember to comb his hair.

His first year of school after moving in with the Hardin's, he would catch the school bus in front of Toni's house. He would always be there, sitting on her steps waiting for her. Most mornings his hair would be sticking every direction at once. She started carrying a comb in her backpack. She would take it out, work her way through his blonde hair before she would finally step back, look him over and declare him, "Good to Go." What she didn't know what that Jake's mother made sure his hair was combed before he left the house, but he would intentionally mess it up on the walk over to Toni's so that he could feel her hands on his head as she combed his hair.

Today she was standing behind him, pulling the comb through his hair, setting the part, before spinning his chair around and looking down into his pale, ice-blue eyes as he looked up at her, and smiled. She looked back up to his hair, combed a few stray locks into place and declared him, "Good to go."

Mall Walking.

Walking through the mall they made quite the pair. Jake at 6'3" with wide shoulders and narrow hips, wore an orange University of Texas tee shirt, khaki cargo shorts, and black Under Armor running shoes. Toni was 5'10", her dark skin and raven black hair, evidence of her Native American ancestry from her father's side, but whose emerald eyes were definitely a throwback to her mother's Icelandic family roots.

"Are we looking for anything in particular today?" Jake asked as they rode the escalator up to the second floor.

"We're meeting Kaylee and she and I have to do a little quick shopping. Then I was hoping we could go by the lake and maybe grill some burgers, and hang out. It's the beginning of summer and we've graduated high school so this is our last summer before we all scatter and go off to college."

When he didn't respond, she looked up at him and saw in his eyes a combination of fear, anxiety, and sadness.

"Jake?" Toni asked, putting her hand on his arm.

"Yeah?" he said. The look in his eyes was gone. This worried her more than the fear, this was his mask that he had learned to put on in the years before he came to Texas. The mask that he hides behind when he feels like he needs to retreat into himself.

"Oh Jake...." Toni started, concern showing in her eyes.

"Hey guys, over here!" they heard as they reached the top of the escalator.

Coming toward them was Kaylee Anderson, her brown wavy hair bouncing as she trotted toward them. She was cute with a big smile and big chocolate brown eyes. At 5'3" she seemed tiny next to Jake and Toni. What most people noticed about her though were the 36 D tits that seemed oddly out of place on her otherwise tiny frame.

"Kaylee!" Toni said, hugging her best girl friend.

"I'm so glad to see you guys," Kaylee said. "Hey, Jake."

"Hey, Kaylee," Jake smiled at her. Kaylee had been friends with Toni and Jake since the 9th grade, so she knew Jake's aversion to physical contact, so even though she was a "hugger," she knew not to try to hug Jake.

"Have you found anything yet?" Toni asked.

"I haven't really looked yet, I was waiting on you. This is kind of a two person job. I need your opinion."

"Well let's get to it."

The two girls headed off with Jake close behind. He wasn't paying much attention until the girls turned into a store with swim suits adorning all the mannequins in the windows.

"I think I'll wait out here in the concourse."

"But Jake, we need your opinion on our new swim suits," Kaylee said.

"Toni can give you an opinion," Jake said nervously.

"A man's opinion is always better," Kaylee insisted.

"Please," Toni said.

Jake looked over and saw exactly what he expected to see. Toni's pout face, that she knew he couldn't say no to.

"Ugh, okay, let’s get this over with," Jake sighed.

Kaylee clapped her tiny hands and Toni hooked her arm in his and pulled him along.

Fitting Room.

Jake was sitting in a chair close to the dressing rooms and the girls had both gone back with several suits each.

Kaylee was the first to come out. She had a bright yellow two piece bikini that looked like the structural integrity of the string holding the top up may have been at its design limits. She spun around two times allowing him to see the front and the back. The bottoms were high cut at the hips and hugged tightly to her rounded back side.

"Well?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah, Kaylee, it looks great," Jake stammered. He could feel his ears getting red.

"Jake Hardin, are you blushing?" Kaylee trilled.

"No, er, oh come on, Kaylee, you know I'm not the right guy for this," Jake said, looking anywhere other than directly at her.

Kaylee just laughed and headed back to the dressing room. Jake leaned over, putting his head in his hands and rubbing his eyes. "How do I get myself into these situations?" he asked, to no one in particular.

"Jake?"

Jake looked up and froze. Toni stood there in a turquoise two piece. The contrast between her dark skin and the suit was amazing. The top showed off her perfect tits. He could faintly see the outline of her nipples through the fabric of the top. The bottom of the suit was small but tasteful. Toni actually looked a little bashful as she turned slowly for his inspection. Jake could feel his temperature rising up his neck and into his face; and that wasn't all that was rising.

"Wow," Jake said, his deep voice barely audible.

"Do you like it?" Toni asked almost bashfully.

"Uh, yeah Toni, it, uh, looks great on you," he said. He was staring and he knew it, but he couldn't look away.

"You really think so?" she asked, looking down at herself.

"Yeah, Toni, I really think so; you're, I mean it's beautiful," he said, reverently.

Was he saying "I'm beautiful?" she asked herself, looking up to see him openly staring at her. She felt butterflies in her stomach and a familiar warming sensation a little further down.

"Yeah, I like this one too, I think I'll get it," she said, turning to walk back to the dressing room. Passing a full length mirror she looked and saw Jake's reflection. It appeared that his eyes were glued to her ass as she retreated. Her lips curled up in her little half smile.

Grub.

They made a stop at the grocery store where they picked up some premade hamburger patties, hot dogs, buns, condiments, salad fixings, drinks, paper plates, napkins, charcoal, and some ice. Most of this went into the large ice-chest in the bed of Jake's truck. With everything chilling in the ice chest, they headed for Lewisville Lake.

They found one of the public camping areas, close to the water, with picnic tables and a grill. Evidently, the girls had been on their phones during the drive because within a half hour several of their other friends showed up.

While the guys messed around in the water, the girls laid out on towels to work on their tans, and so everyone could see their new swim suits.

Jake was busy getting the grill going when a group of guys about their age came wandering up. Evidently they knew a couple of the guys and girls from their group and they were talking. One of the group, a tall jock-type named Travis, seemed especially interested in Toni. He was maybe an inch taller than Jake and looked like he'd been chiseled out of stone. He was curr

Discovering Amy: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Wed, 29 Apr 2026 04:55:00 +0000

Amy gets fingered for the first time.
In parts, by Djmac1031- listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

Tommy sat by the edge of the pool, alone with his thoughts as he waited for Amy to come back out of the house.
Both of them had made it back unseen and unquestioned from their little secret getaway into the woods.
He had just gotten back poolside when Amy’s best friend Cindy came over to him.
“If you’re looking for Amy, I just passed her in the house a minute ago,” Cindy said. “She looked kind of strange, and freaked out a little. You two love birds aren’t fighting or something are you?”
Tommy sighed inwardly. Cindy was a good friend to Amy, but she was always so damn nosy. She’d been “shipping” the both of them since long before “shipping” had become a catchphrase, and a stupid one at that, Tommy thought.
“No, of course not,” Tommy replied, as casually as he could. “I haven’t seen her since the Marco / Polo game broke up a while ago and everybody wandered off.”
Cindy looked skeptical. “Thought I saw you two still chatting after I got out of the pool,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “You sure somethings not up? You better not have upset my bestie!” she growled.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tommy said, a little too defensively.
“I’m gonna talk to her about it later tonight, ya know. I’m sleeping over. I’ll get her to dish, whatever it is, you know that right?” Cindy claimed boldly.
Tommy shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “You guys have fun, talk about whatever you want, I don’t care.”
Cindy gave him a look that said she didn’t quite believe that, then spun and walked away.
Tommy watched her leave, relieved she was finally gone. He caught himself looking at her plump ass as she retreated, then quickly averted his eyes.
Cindy was cute, even beautiful he had to admit. If he was being honest with himself, he found her attractive sexually. But he certainly didn’t have any feelings for her. Not like he had for Amy.
Tommy’s thoughts drifted back to Amy, and their time alone in the woods, and what they’d done together, a series of firsts for both of them.
He thought of her final words to him before she left the wooded path for the house: “I love you too.”
Was it love, he thought? It was certainly more than just some teenage “crush.”
Was it just sexual? No, he thought. He’d had feelings for her long before what became their first sexual explorations together this evening. He was just finally getting around to admitting it to himself, and understanding that Amy had these same feelings too.
It was all so new, so confusing. But exciting too, he had to admit.
He sat there alone, feet in the water, thinking about all of that, and trying not to think about the handjob Amy had given him just minutes ago, or about seeing and touching her breasts for the first time. The last thing he wanted was to pitch another tent right there by the side of the pool.
He looked up from his thoughts and saw Amy’s mom heading into the house.
Tommy had a moment of panic. He hoped Amy was done doing, well, whatever she was doing in there. She’d been gone awhile.
But he supposed she had to clean up the mess he’d made. She was probably washing her suit and towel out, making sure no telltale stains were left behind.
He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until he saw Amy bound out the door and down the steps into the yard, and he let it out in a rush of relief.
She looked happy and carefree enough, so if she’d encountered her mom it must have gone okay.
Amy paused, looking around, and her face lit up in a radiant smile when she spotted him.
Amy had to keep herself from running over to Tommy. She felt like she was floating over the grass, not simply stepping across it as she walked towards him, butterflies in her stomach.
He stood as she approached, and it struck her, not for the first time, just how handsome he was.
His eyes were a strange but beautiful combo of green and brown, with yellow flecks you could only see up close.
His hair was a darker blonde than hers, although it was lightened now by the sun and spiky in a short summer cut.
Two life long friends start to explore intimacy together.
In 4 parts, By D j mac 1031 - listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

The pool party had been going on for several hours, and it was well after dark, when Amy asked me if I’d wanted to go for a walk in the woods behind the house.
She was 18, I was 19, but we’d known each other since we were toddlers, our families being very close and part of the same church group.
The party was to celebrate her high school graduation (I graduated the year before) and was mainly our families along with some of our mutual friends from church and school.
As I said, we’d been friends for a long time, but it was only in recent months that things seemed to change between us.
Talking about our futures, our questions of what we wanted to do with our lives, our secret bonding over our mutual distaste of our parents’ particular brand of religion, had brought us closer together as friends, but also somehow felt more than ‘just’ friends.
I’d certainly started noticing her beautiful body more recently as well.
Amy was blonde, with curly shoulder length locks, now damp around her face. Blue eyes that almost matched the pool water we were currently floating in.
Her one-piece bathing suit was modest (I’m sure her parents had some say in that) but still couldn’t help but highlight the curves of her perfect apple sized breasts, or the roundness of her ass that hadn’t quite lost its “baby fat” yet.
She was well tanned of course; it was her pool and she spent a lot of time sunning herself when she wasn’t actually swimming in it.
We’d been playing Marco Polo for awhile along with our friends, and there was the usual silliness, splashing, and occasional “accidental” groping of random body parts as we all chased each other around the pool, taking turns being the “blind” player.
My hands had found Amy’s body on more than a few occasions when it was my turn. I was starting to think she was letting me catch her just so my hands could brush against her hips, her back, and yes once right across her round bubble ass.
We’d been taking a break from the game and just floating nearby each other, catching our breath, when she asked about going for the walk.
Most of our friends had left the pool already, getting snacks or drinks or just drying off.
“You really wanna?” I asked, surprised. We’d been spending a lot of time together recently, but both of us having very religious conservative parents made it difficult to actually pursue any kind of true dating relationship.
We weren’t girlfriend and boyfriend yet, not by any stretch, but had certainly progressed beyond mere childhood friends in the past several weeks.
I still remember my surprise when she kissed me right on the lips at her graduation ceremony just a few days ago.
Oh it was quick, and she’d been hugging and kissing lots of folks. But it wasn’t accidental on her part and it certainly didn’t feel platonic.
“Yeah, come on, it’ll be fun, I promise,” she replied. The smile on her face was mischievous to say the least.
I was a bit scared honestly. Both our parents would freak out if they caught us sneaking off together. I honestly couldn’t wait to get out of my house and away from all the religious nonsense. But until then I had to put up with their repressive bullshit that made it incredibly difficult for me to even consider dating any girls on a regular basis, let alone get laid.
We climbed out of the pool, grabbed our towels, and took a look around.
Our parents all seemed busy, chatting away with some of the other parents in attendance, drinking, laughing, and playing some card game.
I didn’t think they’d notice us.
“ Okay, let’s go, lead the way I guess. You know these woods better than me.”
Amy didn’t hesitate. She took my hand and led me to a little path that was barely visible in the dark.
As we got to the edge by the tree line, we both took one more look around, saw no one noticing us, and quietly slipped through the trees and down the path.
We hadn’t gone very far when we came to a little clearing. A few stumps marked where some trees had been cleared, and a small pile of wood to one side, apparently the remains of some makeshift fort.
“My brothers cleared this spot years ago; they used to have sleep-outs in their fort. They never let me come here with them but I’ve always known about it. They eventually forgot about it as they got older, but I never did. It’s a nice spot to just get away and be alone for a while,” she explained.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool

That Time I Died: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Fri, 24 Apr 2026 12:00:00 +0000

That Time I Died: Part 2

Some women were waiting for me.

In 2 parts, by DragoTime. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

I realized that everyone on Earth who described Heaven was wrong. They talk about it being a place of eternal bliss. But that is an understatement, let me tell you. It is so, so much better. Every thrust gave me more pleasure than I'd ever dreamed could be possible. My no-longer-virginal cock was screaming out with joy as this heavenly pleasure tore through it. My bliss angel s lovely cunt seemed to have a swallowing motion and it seemed to draw my cock further up and further in.

My mind was a mixture of disbelief that this was happening to me and my brain trying to work out what to do next. And certainly the moans and whimpers I was letting out were far from manly.

Hell s Torment

Meanwhile, those who had had red flames on their hands were significantly less comfortable. They had been led into a cramped, dark room, where some rather unfriendly-looking angels were waiting for them. The room was boiling hot, which only added to their discomfort. The angel Dominique, who had led them in, stood at the front.

"Hello everyone," she said. "As you have possibly worked out by now, you're all dead. And as I'm sure you've all now worked out, you're in Hell."

"Hell!?" Miss Wilson shouted. "Why!? How!?"

"God has classed you as selfish sinners, and it is his will that you are to suffer unimaginable torment for all eternity." Several people were in tears by now. "Please note that there is no right of appeal. God's will is final. Escape is impossible, and there will be no break at any point. Once the pain starts, it won't ever end."

The sinners' bodies were them consumed with fire, and they screamed in agony as they were taken for their punishment. Miss Wilson appeared in a flame-filled cavern, and she looked at her surroundings. She saw 3 naked angels looking at her. To her horror, they had erections that were several feet long and thick, and covered in spikes.

"Sally Wilson," one of them said. "On no less than 463 occasions you cheated on and lied to your then-boyfriends."

"As such, you are to spend the next 463,000 years experiencing excruciatingly painful sex."

The angels approached her, and mercilessly crammed one cock into her cunt, one into her ass, and one into her mouth. It was agonizing for Miss Wilson, but she couldn't scream from her mouth being filled.

"Oh, and we should mention," said the third angel. "When you cum, it will only give you pain. When we cum however, we will ejaculate lava. Enjoy."

In other parts of Hell, meanwhile, the others who'd been damned were being introduced to their first punishments. Aaron was having his genitals devoured by tiny insects, and not enjoying it one bit.

"Don't worry," said his torturer. "When they re done with your bits, they'll move right on to your internal organs." Lexi meanwhile was finding out what a bath in an infinitely acidic solution felt like. Others were simply dumped into pits of infinitely hot fire, pending further torture.

A Note on the Nightstand

I passed out after that previous orgasm with Jayma, my body unable to cope with any more. I woke up laid on my back in bed, my cock now noticeably soft. I looked around, and Jayma was nowhere to be found, although she'd apparently tucked me in before she left. I then noticed a note on my bedside table.

Jimmy, I got called away suddenly, but I had a really great time meeting you.
I'm sure we'll meet again at some point. Until then, have an eternity of great days.

- Jayma

Great, now what, I found myself thinking. I got out of bed, and looked around my room. Or rather, the room that looked like my bedroom. My real bedroom was back on Earth. This place seemed to be a perfect copy of it though, with not a thing out of place. Although if God is truly as powerful as they say, that shouldn't be surprising. I wondered if God was watching me right now. I suppose if he saw everything then he would be. That'd take some getting used to. I walked over to my window, and saw it was getting on to sunset. Outside my "house" my neighborhood seemed perfectly normal, although there didn't seem to be anyone around. I wondered if I could go and walk around.

My ponderings were interrupted by the sound of singing from downstairs. I walked down there, noticing that the rest of the house was an equally-accurate depiction of the real one, and followed the singing into the kitchen. There I saw a naked girl, about my age, bent over the oven to look inside, giving me a very good view of her ass.

"Um, hello," I said.

"Oh, hello," the girl said, turning around and smiling at me. "My goodness, you've certainly grown up."

"Grown? Do I know you?" She looked sort of familiar.

"You don't recognize me?" She asked. "Well, I suppose I do look a lot different to when you last saw me."

"I've never seen you before in my life. Or afterlife; I don t think?"

"I died about 6 years ago. You were really very sad. You cried for hours in your bedroom."

"Granny?" I speculated.

She nodded. My grandmother, Mary, had indeed died 6 years ago, and I'd been heartbroken.

"But, how?" I asked.

"Jimmy, this is the afterlife. I died, and was admitted to Heaven. For the last 6 years I've been enjoying my eternal reward." Without hesitation, I ran to my grandmother, and hugged her tight.

"I've missed you so much," I said.

"I've missed you too, Jimmy, although we've never truly been apart.

"What do you mean?"

"I've been watching over you. All those hardships you've faced, I was there cheering you on."

"You've been watching me? You mean even when I'm, alone?"

"Yes Jimmy, I've even watched you masturbate. There's nothing embarrassing about that. You were simply enjoying the limited earthly pleasure God allowed you to feel."

It was at this point I realized that the two of us were completely naked. My 18-year-old grandmother's perfect tits were pressing against my chest, and my hard cock was rubbing against her skin.

"Sorry," I said, backing off.

"Jimmy, nothing is taboo here. It is good that we arouse one another." And with that, my grandmother kissed me deeply on my lips.

"Gran, I,"

"The angels asked me to come and see you, to try and help you adjust to Heaven. Why don't we go and sit down?"

My grandmother led me over to the sofa, and we sat down on it. You can have wonderful sexual experiences with anyone, here in heaven, but there will be some special people you really have a special desire for. And there will also be some people who have a special desire for you. You have to stay open and receptive, or you ll miss some wonderful experiences. But worse yet, you ll deny others of those opportunities, as well. Granny let that point sink in.

Wow I said, as I started to speculate on her words.

"So how did you enjoy your first night in Heaven?" My grandmother asked me.

"Well, um, it was good, I guess," I replied, not really comfortable talking about sex with my grandmother.

"Nonsense Jimmy, it was the single greatest thing you've ever experienced. I was watching the whole thing, and I cheered as Jayma made you a happy man."

I felt so embarrassed at this.

Grandma s eyes sparkled as she related a story to me; "When I died, I was greeted by an angel called Mavro. He showed me pleasure beyond belief. Pleasure your granddad could only dream of giving me."

"Granddad was bad at sex?"

"I wouldn't say "bad", per say. He was great for the first 20 years. Then his alcoholism got worse, and he tried really hard. But he just wasn't up to the task."

"Yeah, the sex here is pretty great," I said, still not entirely comfortable with this conversation. "But then, I never knew what sex on Earth is like," I pointed out.

"I know, it's a real shame, isn't it? I kept screaming at you to ask girls out, but you never did it."

"Sorry," I blushed.

"Well, there were at least 4 of them who would have loved to be your girlfriend, but you were just too doubtful. Anyway, it doesn't matter. You're here now, to enjoy the infinite pleasure God wishes to reward us with."

My grandmother then took my hand and brought me out to the back patio. A nude young lady was reclined on the big double hammock.

Jimmy, meet Gia. She s come over to meet you, because I told her that the two of you are perfect for each other. Granny smiled and gestured for me to join the petite Hispanic babe. I laid down, and Gia wrapped her arms around me. My head was positioned on her tits, using them as a soft pillow. It was a strange experience.

"Would you like something to drink?" Gia asked me with a big smile.

"Like what?" I asked, and she just grabbed her tits. "Oh,"

"Jimmy, many years ago I fed your infant father from these breasts," Gia said. "Now they will feed you. I lived next door to your grandparents and became a wet nurse for your dad."

I looked to granny for a confirmation. Grandpa got laid off and I had to go to work while he was unemployed. Gia offered to care for your dad, and for about 8 months she devoted herself to your father s care.

Gia took hold of my head, and guided my mouth to her nipple. I latched onto it, and began sucking. Warm milk flowed from Gia's tits and into my waiting mouth. It was different to Aris's. While she had lactated many wondrous liquids unknown to mankind, this was merely mother s milk , albeit the most delicious milk I had ever tasted. My initial hesitation vanished, replaced by an insatiable hunger for this sweet nectar.

As I sucked Gia dry, I felt her hand take hold of my cock, and begin stroking me.

"You're such a good boy," she said. "You deserve infinite pleasure." I switched nipple, eager to give both tits the attention they deserved. Gia continued jerking my cock, wanking me off intensely. The strength of my heavenly arousal meant that I couldn't contain myself for even a minute.

"Uh shit," I groaned. "I'm gonna cum," As the pressure built, Gia lifted my head away from her chest, and got me up on my knees. With one hand supporting my back, and one hand supporting my cock, I erupted. Hot cum spewed forth from my cock at the same impossible rate I'd yet to become accustomed to in Heaven. Gia opened her mouth, and took in what cum she could, the rest splattering across her face. She then moved my cock to point at her tits, and I coated them in a thick layer of cum as well.

It's weird, aside from my enlarged genitals, my heavenly body was identical to my mortal body. Which meant it was also not used to orgasms of this intensity, frequency or duration. I could almost hear my balls, wondering how and why they were able to replenish and supply my cum so quickly, and my prostate, working overtime to provide me with a plentiful ejaculation.

When my orgasm finally ended, I feel forwards, collapsing into Gia's waiting arms. Her body was covered in cum, which meant mine now was, but it didn't matter. I was now more comfortable, relaxed and happy than I had ever been. My cock softened, but the arousal was still there. It felt nice.

I don't know how long we relaxed for; time has little meaning in the afterlife. All I know is my relaxation was interrupted by a buzzing from the kitchen.

"The cookies are ready!" Gia declared excitedly. She released me from her hold, and ran off to the kitchen to fetch them. "Why don't you lay down in the living room and turn the television on?" I sat up, my chest still covered in my cum.

I stopped by the bathroom and cleaned up, then laid on the couch and picked up the TV remote. I turned it on, and flicked through the channels. Everything on was something I liked; my favorite films and TV shows were amazingly all playing at once. I suppose it shouldn't have surprised me, as the whole point of this place was to give me everything I wanted.

Gia walked in, carrying a large plate of chocolate chip cookies. She set it down next to me, and then knelt on the floor.

"Enjoy them," she smiled, before taking my hardening cock in her mouth.

"Oh," I moaned, before picking up a cookie and eating it. Like everything else here, it was incredible. I swallowed it, and took another, before sitting back and relaxing to watch the TV. If you'd told me a week prior that I'd soon be sat watching Back to the Future, and eating the greatest cookies in the universe while my father s wet nurse gave me a blowjob, I'd have told you to fuck off. But it's a good thing I didn't, because then maybe God would have sent me to Hell, and I'd be experiencing unimaginable pain right now, instead of pleasure. If I'd known this was how God rewarded the virtuous, I'd have turned to religion long ago.

I watched the entire film trilogy, experiencing a new orgasm every few minutes. Gia never stopped sucking me for a second, swallowing every drop of the gallons of semen I released into her mouth. I was still amazed by the fact that my cock never showed any sign of fatigue; my loads remained big, my erection remained full, and it never felt the slightest bit sore. Just hours of unbridled oral pleasure for me.

As the credits rolled on Part 3, I had yet another orgasm, which of course involved releasing yet another enormous load into Gia s mouth. She swallowed it all, and then pulled her mouth off of me, kissing the tip as she went. She then crawled onto the sofa, and gave me a soft, loving kiss.

"Let's go to bed, Jimmy," Gia purred. "I want you to make love to me."

I just nodded, and took Gia s hand in mine. We got up, and walked hand-in-hand up the stairs and to my room. Slamming the door shut, we grabbed hold of each-other's ass and made out passionately, our entire beings consumed with lust. Eventually I gave in, and grabbed my Gia, tossing her onto the bed with a fury. She moaned enthusiastically, and spread her legs wide. Without hesitation I climbed on top and thrust my cock into her.7

When I'd fucked Jayma, I'd been overwhelmed by nerves and sensations, which had made thrusting and the like a tad difficult. Well, the sensations here were just as great, if not greater, however my confidence had improved greatly. With Jayma I'd also still been stuck in the mortal mindset of trying to hold back my climax as long as possible, to savor the one orgasm I'd have. But now I realized that here in Heaven, orgasms were plentiful. They were not the climax of sex, they were something to be savored over and over again. So as I pounded into Gia s cunt, my thoughts were only on making the two of us cum as soon as possible.

And cum I did. Barely 40 seconds after entering Gia, I was filling her up with my seed. I grabbed hold of her tits and grinded her cunt as I ejaculated hard. I then resumed my vigorous thrusting, not even waiting for my orgasm to finish first. Gia too came within a minute, so I got to enjoy the exquisite sensations that accompanied her vagina contracting around my cock. But still we fucked, determined to reach many, many orgasms before the night was out.

When I woke up the next morning, I was immediately greeted by a warm wetness surrounding my cock, and another warmth across my whole front. I woke up, and was reminding that I was laid on top of my lovely Gia, with my erect cock buried deep within her. Allowing my instincts to take over, I leaned down and kissed her softly.

"Umm," she whimpered, and opened her eyes slowly. "Morning Jimmy."

"Morning," I said, kissing her again.

"Have fun last night?" She grinned.

"Very much so. It was," I emphasized.

"Heavenly?" We both laughed at that, which is an interesting experience when you're inside a girl at the time.

We made out for a few minutes, and then just gazed at one-another.

"What shall we do today?" I asked.

"Well," she replied. "Tonight there's a little gathering I'm supposed to take you to."

"Gathering?" I asked. Don t you have any family here, Gia?

"You re my desire, Jimmy. I lost my husband when we were expecting our first child. Gia explained. He was shot by the enraged husband of the woman he was having a secret affair with. I was devastated, but your grandparents were so nice to me. I had a baby boy, but the baby died in his sleep at just 4 months.

I was grieved at hearing this sad tale.

Don't worry about it. Your grandparents were so helpful and asked me to be like an auntie to your father, who was just two months old, at the time. I was so impressed with your grandpa and grandma, and I wished I had a man who was like your grandpa. Gia looked deep into my eyes and smiled.

Did you remarry I wondered aloud.

No, I never found the right man, down there. She explained. It wasn t until yesterday, that I found a man like your grandpa.

I took several minutes to take in all the ramifications of her words. I held her for a few more minutes, then said; "Well then," I said, beginning to thrust. "Why don't we get right back to making love then?"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Jimmy."

I went slower that morning, still half-asleep, and not as desperate to cum as I'd been the previous night. Still though, it felt absolutely incredible, making love to Gia while we kissed passionately. After about two minutes we came simultaneously, and we stopped thrusting, and merely kissed slowly in order to savor the moment. For nearly 45 seconds I ejaculated, each shot providing me with unbelievable pleasure.

When it was over, I picked up Gia by the ass, and she yelped.

"Come along my lady," I said, my cock still buried inside her. "Time to wash off." I got us out of bed, and carried Gia out of my bedroom towards the bathroom. What I saw in there shocked me. Our ordinary bathroom had been transformed into one fit for a king. The bath had become a giant hot tub, and there was a huge shower cubical for us in it.

I took Gia into the shower, and set her down, my cock sliding out of her for the first time in hours. Gia turned around, and I took the opportunity to teasingly spank her.

That Time I Died: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Wed, 22 Apr 2026 22:55:56 +0000

That Time I Died: Part 1

Life after death is a lot better than I expected!

In 2 parts, by DragoTime. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, 2010

I m Jimmy. I was unpopular for my whole life. 18 years of being mocked by the other kids. I looked awkward, overweight, and of course, I was a virgin. I had no particular reason to be popular. Of course I had friends, but we geeks mostly wallowed in our unpopularity together. On this particular day, which I will remember for the rest of my existence. Myself and my friends Mark and Peter were sat on the school bus, on the way back to school. Finals were over, and all the seniors had been on a week-long trip to celebrate. Mark and Peter were having a Pok mon battle, while I sat and watched.

"What you losers doing?" Asked Aaron, one of the rich and popular guys sat in front of us.

"None of your business," replied Peter, but Aaron just leaned over.

"Baby stuff I see," Aaron said, grabbing Mark's Nintendo Gameboy.

"Hey! Give that back!" Mark shouted.

"Now now, don't be mean," said Lexi, Aaron's girlfriend., in a mock condescension to her conceited boyfriend. "If they want to be infinitely unpopular and the scum of the Earth for the rest of their lives, that's their choice."

"It's a pretty stupid one, I'd say," Aaron said, tossing the electronic device back to Mark. "Do you dorks know what I'm going to do when we get back? I'm going to drive Lexi here home. Then I'm going to carry her up to her room and make her scream like she's being murdered."

"Shut up," Lexi said, blushing, but not refuting the fact.

The three of us got back to what we were doing, but it didn't last long. I heard one of the other pupils shout "Smoke!", and everyone turned to look at the back of the bus. Clouds of smoke were indeed pouring out of the petrol tank. I saw a flash of light and felt a surge of heat, and then, nothing.

When I opened my eyes, I saw a bright light. When my eyes adjusted, however, I realized it was just the lightbulb on the ceiling. I sat up, and realized several things. I saw that I was in a large room, with quite a few sofas and tables. The tables were covered in plates full of all sorts of delicious-looking food and drink. Everything looked completely luxurious.

The next thing I noticed was that I was not alone. All my classmates were present, sitting all around the large room. And they were all naked. I looked around, and my eyes widened at the sight of my classmates' bodies being completely exposed. So many girls I'd previously imagined naked were now available for me to see in all their glory. Well, at least until they all realized they were naked, and all screamed and tried to cover themselves. The boys also tried to, although it was even more difficult for us, as just about everyone, myself included, was getting a boner from the sight of all this nude flesh. I settled for just letting it all hang out.

"Alright, alright, calm down everyone," said our teacher, Mr. Johnson, standing up.

"Oh shut up Richard, you're not helping anything," said Miss Wilson, the young, 20-something newly-qualified teacher.

"Sir, where are we?" Asked one girl.

"I don't know Becky," replied Mr. Johnson. "But everyone just stay calm and we'll figure it out."

Just then, a set of large doors opened, and the class saw 4 men and 4 women walk in. Each one of them was dressed in pure white robes, and had large, white wings protruding from their backs.

"Greetings everyone," said one of the women. "My name is Luna, and this is my team."

"So could you kindly tell us what is going on here?" Asked Mr. Johnson. "Why have we been kidnapped and why have we been stripped naked?"

"Please do not interrupt, thank you," said Luna. "If you could all remain calm and cooperate we can get through his quickly. You will all be asked for your names and given a hand stamp. Please do not resist."

"Now look here, you can't just," said Mr. Johnson.

"Name," said Luna.

"I'll be contacting the police,"

"Name!"

"His name's Richard Johnson," said Miss Wilson. "And I'm Sally Wilson." Luna looked over at the man stood next to her, who started looking down the list on his clipboard.

"Um, Up for him, and Down for her, Miss Luna," said the man.

"Not what I'd have gone for," Luna said. "Alright, everyone get to work."

The group split into pairs, and went around asking people their names. I watched as the lists were checked, and everyone's hands were stamped. Eventually one of the pairs came up to Mark, Peter and I.

"Names," asked the girl.

"Um, Jimmy Robertson," I replied.

"Mark Ackers."

"Peter Ward."

"Up for all of them," said the man. The girl stamped our hands, and moved on. We looked at our hands, and we saw that they'd stamped on a bright blue cloud.

"What is that?" Asked Mark.

"Dunno," I replied.

The people continued stamping people, and everyone compared their stamps. Most of us had blue clouds, although a few had what appeared to be a red flame.

"Attention everyone," said Luna. "Could everyone who has a blue cloud please go over there and stand with Rafael, and everyone with a red flame go over there and stand with Dominique.

My friends and I went to stand with the cloud people. It was most of us, with only maybe a dozen or so people, including Lexi, Aaron and Miss Wilson in the flame queue. The woman known as Dominique opened a door, through which fire and screams could be heard. Everyone seemed afraid, and the flame people were sucked into it, their stamps being checked as they did.

"Alright everyone," said the man called Rafael. "Please line up in single file. Your stamps will be checked and you'll be allowed in."

"In where?" Mr. Johnson asked.

"Please hold all questions until you're inside." Rafael opened the door, and I saw a blinding white light inside. It felt nice. "I'd like to get things over with quickly."

The others lined us up, and one by one, our hands were checked and we were allowed inside. I was behind Alice Walker in the queue, and I found my eyes drawn to her ass. It was different to how I'd imagined it would be, but it was still beautiful. My cock got hard quickly as I was fixated by Alice's posterior. Unfortunately, as we moved forwards in the line, I moved a little too enthusiastically, and my boner rubbed itself against Alice's booty.

"Sorry Alice!" I exclaimed.

"It's alright," said Alice timidly. I loved how cute she was. So forgiving.

"Ahem." Alice and I both turned to see Rafael looking annoyed at us.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Alice. She showed her hand to Rafael.

"Alright, go on in." Alice walked forward, and the last I saw of her was her ass disappearing into the light. I then looked at Rafael, and showed him my hand. "In you go."

As I walked forward, the light got more and more intense, and I was consumed by the most wonderful feeling of happiness. When it cleared I found myself stood in my living room at home. I was still naked, my cock softening after being made erect by Alice's ass. It seemed to be night time, with all the blinds shut. The only light in the room was coming from the many candles that were scattered around the room, which I know my mother and sisters were quite fond of.

"Mum?" I shouted. "Hello? Anyone?" No response. Next to the sofa were two tables, which were covered with plates of all my favorite snacks. Confused, I sat down and ate a biscuit. It tasted absolutely wonderful. I poured a glass of coke, and it too tasted incredible. But I still didn't understand what was going on.

"Hello there." I jumped in my seat, and turned to see two girls stood in the doorway. One was Asian, the other Caucasian. And both were completely naked and drop-dead gorgeous. My cock immediately began to stir. I noticed that the Asian girl had a large set of wings protruding from her back like the people earlier had. Despite this, I found myself backing away from the girls.

"Don't be frightened," said the Asian girl. "We're not going to hurt you. Nothing will ever hurt you again."

"What's going on?" I asked. "Who are you?"

"I am Aris," said the Asian girl, who then looked over at her friend, who appeared to be extremely nervous. "Well go on then. Introduce yourself."

"Oh, yes," the nervous girl said nervously. "I'm Jayma, Mr. Robertson, sir,"

"Just relax Jayma, deep breaths, don't be nervous," Aris said to her, before turning back to me. "I'm sorry about Jayma. She's new, and I'm training her up. This is her first time on the job."

"What job?" I was still rather afraid, although admittedly most burglars don't tend to work naked.

The two girls simply walked over and sat down on either side of me.

"Do you like the food?" Asked Aris.

"It's good, but please, I want to know what's going on," I said.

"What do you remember?" asked Jayma. "Before waking up naked, I mean."

"Well," I thought. "We were on the bus, on the way back to school. I heard people screaming, and then I felt really hot, and then, I woke up."

"The petrol tank of the bus exploded," said Jayma. "Everyone on board died instantly."

"So I'm dead?" I asked, and Aris nodded.

"Dead, Expired, Deceased," said Jayma. "Biting the dust, Becoming fertilizer."

"That's enough Jayma," said Aris sternly.

"Yes Miss Aris,"

"Wait, if I'm dead, then that means this is, what's next," I said.

"That's correct."

"So, which one is this?"

"This good one," Aris smiled. "Welcome to Heaven, Jimmy."

"Heaven? But why?" I asked. "I've never really did all the church stuff. I skipped confirmation, and I'm not exactly perfect."

"God does not care about whether or not you jump through all those hoops, either. He knows your heart. We don t ask why . And God doesn t tell us why someone else earned punishments or rewards. It s only that you are a good heart, and he has judged you to be so. As such, you are to be rewarded and can continue on, unless your heart turns bad."

"So what are you two, then?" I asked, before looking at Aris's wings. "Are you angels?"

"Yes," Aris replied. "We're here to welcome you to Heaven. We don t always appear like this, but this is our first introduction, so we transformed to conventional imaginations, to ease your mind."

"But I can't be dead!" I shouted, standing up. "I'm only 18!"

"Everyone dies at some point," said Jayma. Some live longer, some not as long. It s not our place to question.

"But I had so much I wanted to do!"

"You can do whatever you want here."

"How's my family going to react!?"

"Reacted. You've been dead for over a week, so they'll have found out by now."

"A week?"

"God is a very thorough judge. And it takes time to judge all the dead of the universe. Your consciousness was turned off for that review. Once we had our results, your schoolmates were all immediately assembled, awakened, and sent to your destiny."

Aris stood up, and gently lowered me back down onto the sofa. The two angels began stroking my legs. They were trying to relax me, but honestly it just put me more on edge.

"Please Jimmy, just relax," said Aris.

"You're asking me to give up everything I've ever known!" I shouted.

"I really don't understand why you're upset," said Jayma. "Heaven is a million gazillion times better than anything that rubbish planet has."

"Jayma, I've told you, you need a light touch," Aris said. The two girls were still stroking my legs. "What my apprentice was trying to say is that you can have anything you want here. Anything!" As she said that, she moved her hand further up my leg, and began fondling my ball sack. Jayma soon followed suit. My cock responded at that point, my resistance unable to prevent it from hardening.

"Your every desire can be yours," said Jayma, whispering seductively in my ear. "There is no sin here. If you desire it, you shall have it."

"Anything?" I asked, still overwhelmed by the new sensation of my genitals being fondled by two attractive girls.

"Anything," Aris said, before kissing me deeply on the lips.

"Oh my God," I said as she broke the kiss.

At this point my cock was harder than it had ever been in my entire mortal life, and it was tingling with anticipation. While Jayma continued playing with my balls, Aris began running her finger up and down my firm length, causing me to shudder even more.

"There is no pain here," she said. "And all positive sensations are amplified beyond mortal comprehension." I could believe that right there, but I got to experience it first-hand when Aris pulled back by foreskin and began rubbing the ridge of my cockhead with her finger. I let out a loud groan, and arched my back from the sensations. My cock was pulsing with pleasure, and it was soaking wet with pre-cum. Aris continued playing with my cock, smiling lovingly as she did, while Jayma continued providing exquisite stimulation to my balls.

Aris then finally moved her hand to grasp my cock shaft. As she held it in her hand, I tried to compose myself, wondering what I'd ever done to deserve this. Aris then began firmly stroking me, causing my moaning to increase. Jayma fondled my balls while Aris wanked me hard, still rubbing my tip with her other thumb.

"Oh God! Oh my God!" I moaned loudly. "Oh God, I'm gonna cum!"

"Don't resist it Jimmy, just let it happen," said Jayma.

"Oh my God!"

And with that, I toppled over the edge with an almighty groan. And let me tell you, if you think orgasms on Earth feel good, you just wait until you feel one in Heaven. The first contraction alone was greater than the total sum of all orgasms my mortal body had ever had, and milliseconds later, I felt another, even more powerful contraction as huge amounts of semen surged out of my cock. My body was completely overwhelmed as it tried to get to grips with what was going on in my groin area. I humped the air as I came, my natural reaction to my first real taste of what Heaven has to offer. Rather than the individual shots of cum, my ejaculation was instead more of a constant, but slightly pulsing stream.

The heavenly contractions happening so frequently they'd all but blended into one. It felt a little like I was urinating. You know, except with copious amounts of semen instead of urine. And with the almost unbearable amounts of sexual pleasure.

I don't know how long I came for, but by the time it ended, I could barely think straight. I was slouched on the sofa, my body drenched in sweat. I was panting heavily, my entire middle section tingling intensely. I looked down at the floor, which was covered in an insane puddle of my cum. I felt my cock begin to soften, but as it did, I noticed something odd. Although my cock was indeed becoming soft and floppy, it wasn't shrinking, remaining at its erect length and girth.

"What's happening?" I asked between heaving pants. "To my cock I mean."

"We thought you might enjoy a bigger one," said Jayma.

"How is all of this possible? My cock growing, and that orgasm, Oh God, that orgasm!"

"God's power is infinite, and it is his will that all the virtuous people of the universe be given an eternity of bliss, pleasure and happiness," explained Aris.

"Why?"

"It is not our place to question the Lord. That God deems you worthy of eternal bliss is enough."

"So if this is Heaven, presumably there's a Hell too?"

"Of course," said Jayma. "Where all those nasty sinners get their punishments."

"So it's as bad as we hear?" I asked.

"It's worse," said Aris. "You know all that pleasure we just gave you? Imagine that but as pain."

"That's awful, so is that where the people with the red flames went?"

"Yes. We could show it to you if you'd like, but to compassionate people, it might be quite distressing."

"No, it's alright, But what sorts of things go on in there?"

"Tortures of the worst kind. But it really doesn't bear thinking about," said Aris. "Jayma, why don't you show Jimmy some more heavenly pleasures?"

I didn't get a say in that. Before I could react, my scrotum was in Jayma's mouth, being sucked on by the gorgeous angel.

"Uh," I groaned. My nut sack felt incredible! It was as sensitive as my cock head.

"Does that feel good?" Aris asked me, and I just nodded. She kissed me lovingly yet rather sloppily, and then picked up a slice of pizza from the table, feeding it to me. The flavors, Oh God, the flavors. That pizza had every single one of my favorite toppings on it. It had stuffed crust, and it was just the right thickness. Everything about it as perfect. I didn't know which part of me felt better, my mouth or my balls. I didn't even notice that my cock had gotten hard. And I definitely didn't notice Aris giving Jayma an order.

"Suck his cock."

I gasped sharply as I felt Jayma engulf my cock with her mouth. I leaned my head back in pleasure, trying to get to grips with the overwhelming sensations. After years of wondering, I finally knew what it felt like to get a blowjob. The answer was it felt fucking amazing. Although granted, said blowjob was coming from a literal angel. Her lips and tongue had this unearthly talent for stimulating my thick cock. When did my cock get this thick?

I instinctively spread my legs, and looked