Connected Podcast

Naked and Unafraid: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Sat, 08 Aug 2026 18:35:00 +0000

Naked and Unafraid: Part 2.

No More Walking Away.

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

The night came back to me later in pieces: lightning in the far distance, Bridget and me taking turns keeping Brooke awake and afloat, my legs kicking until they cramped, the smell of jet fuel on the water, my teeth chattering. Once, when I thought I saw lights in the distance, I shouted until my throat was raw. No one came. Not even the Grim Reaper.

Eventually, the sky started to brighten with the arrival of what sailors called the "nautical dawn." The ocean, calmer now that the storm had passed, stretched gray and flat around us. Wreckage floated here and there: a seat cushion, a suitcase, and various bits and pieces of the plane that never made it to New Zealand.

Bridget saw it at the same time that I did. We didn't recognize the "who" but the "what" was unmistakable. "Oh my God," she whispered.

"What is it?" asked Brooke, sounding a little dazed.

"Don't look," Bridget said.

"I can't not look."

"Then look at me."

Brooke did.

The current carried us toward some dark smudge on the horizon. At first I thought it was a cloud bank, but as the sun climbed a little higher, I recognized what it was: land.

I pointed it out to my companions. Bridget briefly closed her eyes as if a silent prayer had been answered. Brooke made a sound that was almost a sob.

It still looked far away, impossibly far. From here, I couldn't tell if it was an island or the edge of something larger. There were cliffs on one side and trees across most of the rest with a pale line that could have been beach. None of us knew where we were anymore. The flight path, the storm, the impact, the current; all of it had turned our precise location into a guess.

"We swim," Bridget said.

I stared at her. "We what?"

"We use this." She slapped the wing panel we were clinging to. "Kick with it. Current's already taking us that way."

Brooke shook her head. "I can't."

Despite her weariness, Bridget's voice was gentle and empathetic. "Brooke. You don't have to do it well. You just have to not stop. If we can get there, we have a chance at surviving this."

Brooke looked at her, colorless lips trembling, then she nodded.

So we kicked. We struggled and coughed and cursed, fighting the ocean for our lives. We swallowed seawater. The sun, high and bright in a stunningly blue sky, beat down on us. We lost ground and gained it. The island seemed to move away whenever I looked at it, so I stopped looking. But the current remained in our favor so I knew it was just a matter of time, if we could hold on.

Bridget kept one hand on the panel and one hand sometimes on Brooke's wrist. I stayed on the other side, trying to steer when waves turned us sideways. My shoulder hurt so badly I thought I might vomit. Not a good idea, considering how dehydrated I was.

At some point the water changed. The swells became rougher but shallower. Waves began to lift and push instead of simply rise under us. We could see the beach now, almost close enough to touch: white sand and black rocks with palm trees leaning over the shore.

A wave took us and hurled us forward. The panel split the water like a surfboard before slamming into sand. My knees hit bottom. Then another wave crashed over us and took me under. I came up choking, hands clawing at wet sand. I crawled away from the water because I lacked the strength and balance to stand. Bridget was on her knees a few feet away, coughing, hair plastered to her face. Brooke lay half in the water, eyes closed, waves washing around her waist.

"Brooke!" Bridget shouted. She scrambled back down and grabbed Brooke under the arms.

I tried to stand, failed, then crawled to help. Together we dragged Brooke beyond the reach of the surf. She coughed suddenly, turning onto her side and vomiting seawater into the sand.

Bridget collapsed beside her. I fell onto my back. For a long time, none of us spoke. We just breathed and savored the reality of still being alive.

Eventually Bridget sat up. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at me. Her face was scratched. Her lower lip was split. One sleeve of her flannel was torn almost completely off.

"Ben," she said, then crawled to me and touched my cheeks, my chest, my shoulder, almost as if she was trying to convince herself that I was real. "You're bleeding."

"So are you."

"Your head."

"Is it bad?"

She examined it with shaking fingers. "I don't think so. Scalp cuts bleed a lot."

Brooke pushed herself upright slowly. She looked wrecked: pale, shaking, hair tangled with salt, one cheek bruised. Her beautiful white top was torn at the hem and stained with fuel, sand, and blood. Her shoes were missing.

She looked at us, then out at the ocean.

"Are we the only ones?" she asked.

"We don't know," Bridget said. "We survived. Other people could have too. There could be another beach. Another part of the island. Rafts. Debris. We don't know."

She wasn't actually lying but none of us, Bridget included, really believed that.

I sat up, too fast, and everything spun, black spots dancing across my vision. Bridget reached for me.

"Easy."

"I'm fine."

"Your skin is gray."

"I've always been pale."

We took inventory because Bridget made us.

Injuries first. My shoulder was bruised and strained, maybe sprained, but not dislocated. My head had a shallow cut above the temple. My ribs hurt, but I could breathe, so they probably weren't broken. Bridget had cuts on her arms and legs, a twisted wrist, and bruises blooming along one side. Brooke had a deep scrape on her thigh, bruised ribs, and raw marks around the wrist where she had been trapped. No broken bones that we could tell. No one was bleeding badly. Under the circumstances, "lucky" didn't seem like the right word but it probably applied.

Next, what we had. My phone was gone, as was Brooke's. Bridget had hers, dead and cracked, nestled in the soaked pocket of her leggings. Bridget's backpack had made it; sort of. She had somehow kept one arm through the strap during the crash and held onto it despite the ocean's best attempts to rip it away. The thoroughly soaked contents included two protein bars protected by their sealed foil wrapping, a metal water bottle, a compact first-aid kit, a lighter sealed in a tiny plastic bag, a nail file, three hair ties, sunscreen, and a ruined paperback beach book.

Brooke stared at the backpack. "You brought a first-aid kit?"

Bridget shrugged. "It's just Band-Aids and stuff."

"You brought a lighter? You don't smoke."

"Never know when you might need it."

Bridget insisted we move away from the waterline after that, in case the tide came in.

The beach curved in a crescent between black rocks at one end and a thick wall of green at the other. The trees were dense but not impenetrable. They were mostly palms, broad leaves, vines; the kinds of vegetation one expected to find in the tropics. Birds could occasionally be seen through the canopy. Somewhere inland, there was the sound of babbling water. Fresh water, which mattered more than anything. We all heard it at the same time.

Bridget closed her eyes. "Thank God."

We didn't go straight in. Bridget said we needed markers to make sure we never lost the beach, and we had to stay visible in case rescue came, because we needed to believe rescue would come. It was the only hope we had. Planes had black boxes, didn't they? Pilots called for help. Searchers followed transponders, wreckage, and currents. I didn't really know how any of it worked, but I needed to believe there was some invisible machinery already grinding toward us.

We used driftwood to make a huge SOS in the sand above the tide line. It took longer than it should have because we were weak and dizzy. When we were done, we retreated to the shade near the trees to get out of the sun. Bridget cleaned our cuts with water from her bottle, then made us save the rest until we found the stream.

Brooke was sitting with one leg stretched out while Bridget knelt beside her, focused on the wound. Her hands were gentle, even when her face was stern. Brooke watched her and I watched Brooke watching her.

When Bridget finished, Brooke touched her wrist lightly. "Thank you."

Bridget looked at the hand on her wrist then at Brooke. "You're welcome." There was unexpected warmth in those words.

Then Bridget started crying. She turned away immediately, like she didn't want us to see.

"Bridget," I said.

"I'm fine."

Brooke reached for her, then stopped herself. I moved instead, because I knew she would let me. I put an arm around her and she collapsed against me, the dam breaking. I held her with my good arm and pressed my cheek to her damp hair.

Brooke sat beside us, alone. I looked at her over Bridget's shoulder. She looked exhausted, but as she watched Bridget, her eyes hardened with something that looked a lot like jealousy. Without thinking, I reached my free hand toward her. She took it with cold fingers and leaned into me, her own tears now flowing freely.

The three of us sat like that until the crying passed. Then, by late afternoon, we found the stream.

It ran down from rocks behind the trees, clear and cold, spilling into a shallow pool before disappearing under roots as it flowed toward the sea. We drank too fast, desperate to replace all the fluids we had lost in the past twenty-four hours. There were small crabs near the rocks on the beach and clams in the tide pools. Coconuts hung high in a few trees, although I didn't see any on the ground.

So we had food, water, and Bridget's lighter. And we could probably cobble together something resembling a shelter. But, as far as we could tell, there were no other people. No other crash survivors and no one who lived on the island.

As the sun lowered, we returned to the beach and stared at the ocean. It wasn't promising: no planes, no boats, no smoke. Be patient, I told myself, rescue would take time. Days, maybe even weeks. Definitely not hours.

We gathered wood for a fire. Bridget's lighter worked on the fourth try, after briefly scaring us that the plastic bag hadn't provided adequate protection. When the flame finally caught, we breathed a collective sigh of relief. The fire grew slowly, orange licking at dry palm scraps, then catching thicker sticks. Smoke rose into the evening air.

We sat close to it as darkness came. Not because the air was cold but because the light provided comfort and refuge.

Brooke hugged her knees. Bridget sat cross-legged and I lounged with my back against a large rock.

"We should take turns staying awake," Bridget said.

Brooke looked at her. "Do you think there are animals?"

"Listen," I said.

Above the sound of the crackling fire, we heard the chorus: insects, birds, inhuman caws and calls, leaves rustling. We might be the only people on this island but we were most definitely not alone.

I looked at the two women beside me: Bridget, my oldest friend, the girl who stuck by me through thick and thin for a decade-and-a-half, and Brooke, my longtime crush who had once made me feel small with a smile, now looking so lost and lonely.

The first night on the island, I slept in fits and starts. I woke to every pop of the fire, every strong breeze, every snore from Bridget curled on one side of me and Brooke on the other. We weren't touching but we were as close as we could be without doing so.

Near dawn, in the first dim light of the second day of our odyssey, I opened my eyes and saw Brooke awake. She was looking past me at Bridget, and her expression was one of deep affection, maybe even love. Then Brooke's eyes shifted to me. She gave me a smile and I was grateful to see that it was genuine, not sad.

No More Walking Away.

Morning proved that it hadn't all been a horrible nightmare.

At night the island had been firelight, shadows, and noise. In the morning it was sand in my teeth, a headache behind my eyes, one aching shoulder, and Brooke trying to untangle a piece of seaweed from her hair.

Bridget was already awake when I sat up.

She stood near the remains of the fire with her hands on her hips, staring at the beach. Her red hair was a dry frizzed mess around her face, her flannel torn, one sleeve missing, leggings stiff with salt.

"You slept," she said.

"Did I?"

"You made old-man noises."

"I'm injured."

"You always make old-man noises."

Brooke groaned. "Please don't flirt this early."

Bridget and I both looked at her. Brooke had one arm over her eyes. Her voice was rough. Her blonde hair was a tangled bird's nest. She looked nothing like the blonde beauty who had adorned a thousand social media posts. Instead, she looked like a real person.

Brooke shifted, winced, and grabbed at her ribs. Bridget noticed immediately and crouched beside her.

"Still bad?"

Brooke took an experimental deep breath. "It hurts."

"Sharp?"

"No. More like; bruised. Deep."

I remembered Bridget taking a first-aid course back in high school. She had been thinking about getting certified, although she never went through with it.

"Can you stand?"

Brooke tried. Halfway up, she stopped, face pale.

"Slow," Bridget said. She moved over to help the other woman. Brooke's hand rested briefly on Bridget's forearm for balance, and neither of them pulled away fast.

We had a lot to figure out that first full day: shelter, water, food, fire, signal, injuries, poison plants, and maybe even sharks. We also needed to get a better idea of the island's topography and check in case other survivors had washed up somewhere else.

The first problem was water, even though we'd found the stream. We needed a way to carry it and maybe keep some near the beach. Bridget's metal bottle was only one bottle, and three adults could easily go through a dozen fill-ups per day.

So it was time to explore our new home and do a little scavenging. The beach had become the resting place for pieces of the crash by then. Not much useful at first, and thankfully no human remains. We inventoried a torn seat cushion, several plastic panels, a broken tray table, a partially intact suitcase with nothing inside but soaked men's shirts and one shoe, a bright blue scarf, a cracked cosmetics case, and a penknife. We kept the last of those, thinking it might prove useful, if only for opening up mollusks.

Then we found a section of overhead bin washed up near the black rocks. It wasn't ideal; it was bulky and heavy; but it held water if tilted right. We dragged the bin piece up the beach and rinsed it in the stream.

"Not perfect," Bridget said. "But it will do until something better comes along."

The second problem was fire.

The lighter still worked, but Bridget was adamant that we couldn't waste it and she didn't think it had much butane left. "Ideally, we need to keep a fire going at all times. That limits the number of times we have to use the lighter. While no one actually needs to tend the fire constantly, we need to keep an eye on it." We needed dry tinder and a shelter for the fire when it rained. We gathered palm fronds, driftwood, bark, anything dry enough to catch.

My shoulder made lifting hard, and Bridget kept telling me to stop using that arm.

"I'm helping."

"You're helping badly."

By midday, the sun was high and relentless. Our skin darkened and reddened and we moved into shade as much as possible, recognizing that a sunburn would be very unpleasant and possibly dangerous. Bridget, with the fair complexion of her Irish ancestors, was especially vulnerable.

Salt dried on my skin in itchy patches. Every cut burned. My clothes felt like cardboard. Brooke kept tugging at the hem of her torn white top, which had dried stiff and no longer seemed to fit. Bridget's leggings were rubbing raw behind her knees.

On the positive side, I had drunk enough water that my pee had returned to its normal pale yellow color after being a deep umber when I woke up. Brooke and Bridget had determined which leaves were the best ones to use for toilet paper. I took note, since that information would eventually become useful to me too.

The stream pool looked better every time we passed it, not only as a means of slaking our thirst but for bathing. We decided that our drinking source would come from about a dozen yards upstream from the pool, thereby eliminating the possibility of accidentally drinking water we had contaminated from washing.

Bridget was the first one to state the obvious. "We need to rinse off," she said.

"In the pool?" Brooke asked.

"No, Brooke, in the sauna."

I cleared my throat. "I can, uh, go downstream while you two;"

"Are we or are we not all adults?" asked Bridget, clearly losing patience. "I just want to get clean and feel vaguely human again. I don't care if you two see my tits. Modesty doesn't seem like it has much value here."

I know I was overthinking things and that Bridget was right. I had seen naked women before. But those naked women hadn't been my best friend and longtime crush. Seeing either of them naked seemed like a very big thing. And I'll admit I was also a little worried that I wouldn't; measure up. But it was equally true that we needed to get cleaned up.

"We can take turns," I said.

Bridget sighed like she was offended but agreed. "Yeah. Good."

Brooke looked between us. "Fine."

So that became the plan. The pool was maybe thirty yards inland, hidden enough by trees that the beach disappeared from its near edge. It was neither big enough to swim laps nor deep enough to submerge much above the knees but it was more than adequate for our purposes.

Bridget went first. While she was bathing, Brooke and I walked back toward the beach to give her the privacy she wasn't demanding. We sat on a fallen palm trunk facing the ocean.

For about thirty seconds, neither of us spoke, listening to the water splashing behind us. We both stared straight ahead.

"You're being very respectful," Brooke said.

"I'm always respectful."

"But you want to see her, right? And me?"

She made me sound like a pervert. But I wasn't about to deny what was obviously true. I glanced at her and saw that she was smiling, a glint of mischief in her eyes. Even though it was coming at the cost of my embarrassment, I was glad to see this side of Brooke re-emerging.

"I don't mind. In fact, it would be weird if you didn't. And, unless we get rescued really soon, it's going to happen. My clothes are torn to shit and I don't have any spares and yours and Bridget's aren't in much better shape. Unless you're blind, I'm sure you've already seen my nipples a half-dozen times."

Truth was, I hadn't. But now there was no chance that I wasn't going to start looking.

"You and Bridget. I've watched you two for so long, almost never with the best motives. And I've always envied you," she said. "Because she loves you."

I stared at the ocean. "You said that once before."

"At prom."

"Yeah."

"I was right then and I'm right now."

"So where does that put you?"

"I don't know," she said, a little sadly. "Somewhere outside the door, hoping someone lets me in."

Silence returned as I mulled over that thought because as important as Bridget was to me, I couldn't envision just letting go of Brooke.

After a while, Bridget called out, "Okay. Done."

When she came back through the trees, her hair was wet and darker against her neck. She had rinsed her flannel and tank top and put it back on damp, w

Naked and Unafraid: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Fri, 07 Aug 2026 18:34:00 +0000

Naked and Unafraid: Part 1.

This is not Gilligan's Island.

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

Senior Year.

The thing about Brooke Hartley was that she knew exactly how pretty she was.

Not in the fake way, either, where girls pretended to hate mirrors but always looked picture-perfect. Brooke knew. It was her primary high school characteristic; blonde hair, blue eyes, long legs, and a smile that endeared her to teachers and kept guys on leashes.

I hated her. But I was also obsessed with her. That was a defining problem of my existence during those four years of awkwardness that finished my primary school career. It seemed that every time I stumbled, which was distressingly often, she was there with that smile and a knife. And when she stuck it in, she always twisted. Guys who bullied were straightforward about it. Not so with girls; their approach was more subtle and hurtful.

By senior year, I had finally grown into myself, or at least that's what my mom said. I'd been small and bony for most of elementary school and junior high, with little to note beyond my academic excellence and propensity to be picked last for team games in gym class. Then, sometime between junior and senior year, my growth hormones kicked in and I got taller. My chest and shoulders gained definition. My jaw squared up and sprouted the beginnings of whiskers. I started running in the mornings because that was the one form of exercise that I didn't find tedious. Although I still fell far from the "jock" categorization, I no longer looked like the stereotypical "nerd."

By October, girls who'd never looked at me twice started smiling in the hallway, but that didn't include Brooke. She still insisted on calling me "Bennie the Brain." And because Brooke was the Senior Prom Queen-In-Waiting, most of the girls took their cues from her.

"Morning, Bennie," she'd say, leaning against her locker as I walked past. The girls around her would laugh like trained seals. I tried to ignore it, to pretend that it didn't bother me. And it might not have except I secretly wanted to hear something nice from her. And every time she talked to me, even if it was to issue a put-down, it would still make my day. Because the only thing worse than being spat upon by Brooke was being ignored by Brooke. Pathetic? Yeah. I know.

Bridget, one of the few girls who did the exact opposite of what Brooke wanted from the female half of the school's student body, called me on it immediately.

"You're doing the thing," she said at lunch.

"What thing?"

We were sitting outside behind the gym, where hardly anyone went because the aluminum benches were old and rusted and the lawn was more weeds than grass. Bridget had one foot up on a bench, arm hugging a knee, red-haired ponytail catching the early autumn sunlight. She had a protein bar in one hand and an apple in the other, because she didn't believe in doing any serious eating during the day, especially not this close to cross-country practice.

"The Brooke thing," she said.

"I don't have a Brooke thing."

"You absolutely have a Brooke thing. You never push back on her. You just keep taking her shit. It's depressing."

I looked away, mostly because she was right.

Bridget and I had been friends since Garfield Elementary School, which meant she had seen all the different iterations through the years. She remembered the time the barber cut my hair too short. She remembered when I got a concussion in gym during dodge ball She remembered when I threw up on the bus during the fourth-grade field trip. And she never used any of those things as ammunition. They were shared experiences that formed the skeleton of our friendship.

"She's not that bad," I said.

Bridget stared at me, eyes bugging out. "What? You can't be serious."

"She's just;"

"A monster?"

"She's popular."

"Those aren't synonyms, Ben."

"She's not mean all the time."

"Name one time when she hasn't shit all over you or me. Just one!"

That was another thing about Bridget. She stood up to herself, regardless of who the adversary was. She never let Brooke get away with even the tiniest slight, especially if it involved me. She defended me against Brooke because I was seemingly unable to do so myself.

I didn't understand it then, but there was something else going on under the surface. Brooke teased everyone, sure, but she saved her nastiest barbs for Bridget. It wasn't just Brooke being Brooke. There was an intensity in the way her eyes would become riveted onto Bridget when she walked into a room or the way she'd say her name: "Bridg, et."

Bridget, who was usually good-natured and funny, hated Brooke even more than I did, but was unhampered by the crush that kept me neutered.

It was late November, raining hard enough to dot the school parking lot with puddles. I had stayed after school to help Mr. Larkin set up some projectors for the Academic Awards Assembly, because I was always looking for extracurricular activities to boost my high school resume. By the time I finished, most of the school had emptied, walkers having walked and busers having taken their buses. The hallways had that weird after-hours feeling, where sounds echoed unnaturally loud. I was cutting through the arts wing when I heard voices from the girls' locker room corridor.

I shouldn't have stopped, but I did.

"Move," Bridget said. Her voice was low and controlled, a warning sign. Most of the time, she pushed back verbally but she wasn't above getting physical, especially with no teachers around. I'd once seen her beat the living crap out of a girl who was twice her size.

Brooke laughed. "Relax. I'm not touching you. Wouldn't want to dirty my hands."

"You're blocking the hallway."

"It's a hallway. There's plenty of room."

"Then move."

I stepped closer, just enough to see around the trophy case.

Brooke stood with two of her friends, Madison and Kelsey, who hovered just behind her, smirks plastered across their faces. Brooke had showered and changed after cheer practice, her hair still damp at the temples. Bridget was in her running gear, sweatshirt unzipped, one hand gripping the strap of her gym bag.

They were maybe two feet apart. Brooke was taller by maybe six inches but that didn't intimidate Bridget.

Brooke smiled that oily smile she reserved only for Bridget and me. "You always this aggressive after practice?"

"Only around people I don't like."

Brooke's eyes glanced down, quick as lightning, taking in Bridget's bare legs. It was so fast I almost missed it. But I didn't and neither did Bridget.

"Don't look at me like that," she said.

Brooke's smile faltered by just a fraction. "Like what?"

"You know like what."

"God, you're so full of yourself," she said. "Not everyone is obsessed with you, Ginger Spice."

"Funny," she said. "That's not what your eyes say."

Madison and Kelsey both goggled because no one talked to Brooke like that.

But Brooke's comeback was weak. "You wish," she said.

"No. I really don't."

There was no telling where things might have gone from there if fate hadn't intervened. At that moment, Brooke noticed me watching the interaction. "Wow," she said. "We have an audience. Your 'boyfriend.'"

Bridget turned. "Ben?"

"Hey," I said, stuck for words as was typically the case when Brooke was around.

Brooke's smile came back, bigger and meaner. "Were you spying on us, Bennie? Get off on watching your little girlfriend get cut down to size?"

"No. I was just;"

"Creeping?"

"I was walking."

"In a hallway outside the girls' locker room?"

"It's also the arts wing."

And here's the part I hated about myself: even then, with her in the midst of a merciless round of humiliation, I reacted to her attention like it was sunlight. Because she was noticing me, even if the level of her regard was like something nasty she had stepped in.

"You know," she said, pretending to study me. "You're almost cute now. Did your cock grow as much as the rest of you?"

My face burned. Bridget moved to my side.

Brooke sensed vulnerability. "Oh," she said softly. "That bothers you."

"Leave him alone," Bridget said.

"Why? He's a big boy." Her gaze returned to me. "Aren't you, Ben?" She emphasized my name: Ben, not Bennie.

I swallowed. "I'm not interested in whatever this is."

"Sure."

"You're bored," Bridget said to Brooke. "Go ruin somebody else's day."

Brooke's gaze shifted to Bridget. "You always defend him."

"Somebody has to."

"Maybe he doesn't want you to."

I should've said something then, something to validate her position. But all I came up with was "It's fine."

She flinched at that, her eyes darting from Brooke to me. She had been expecting me to back her up, and when I didn't, the disappointment was impossible to miss.

Brooke let out a tiny laugh. "Guess I was wrong, then," she said. "It's fine."

Then she walked away with Madison and Kelsey trailing after her. For a few seconds, Bridget and I stood there listening to the rain.

"I didn't mean;" I started.

"It's fine," she said.

I deserved that. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and walked past me.

"Bridget." She stopped but didn't turn. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for liking her," she said.

I stared at the back of her head. "I don't like her."

"Okay."

"I don't."

"Okay, Ben."

She left, disappearing down the hall. That was the first time I wondered if Bridget liked me as more than a friend.

Winter turned the school ugly. Gray snow piled in the corners of the parking lot where the plows deposited it. The football team lost in regionals, which ended pep rallies and killed school spirit. College acceptance letters started showing up, and people started looking ahead to their futures and stepping past the present. I got into Westbridge University with a scholarship. Bridget got in too.

We found out the same afternoon. She caught up to me in my driveway and wrapped me in a bear hug. I lost my balance and tumbled onto the lawn, pulling her along with me.

"We're going together," Bridget said, breathless, lying next to me. "Four more years!"

"I can't think of anything better."

She rolled onto her side and smiled at me, her cheeks pink from the cold. I studied the freckles across her nose and the red hair in disarray around her face. She was beautiful. I just hadn't seen it before because, to me, she was "just Bridget." Now, belatedly, I was seeing her the way others saw her.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"No, you're staring."

"I'm not."

"You are."

If there was ever a time to kiss her, that was it. But, instead, I simply rose and offered her my hand. She took it and, laughing, yelled that she was going to tell her mom the good news. Then she was off like a shot, sprinting toward her house.

Brooke didn't get into Westbridge. In all likelihood, she didn't apply. That level of academic rigor would have been foreign to her. Instead, she was headed out of state to a notorious party school. She bragged about it like it was a big deal but everyone knew that people with good grades didn't go there. And, with the focus shifting away from high school, the aura surrounding Brooke had begun to dissipate. The queen of our high school was about to find herself in a much larger pond with many other queens of their high schools.

Brooke had sufficient self-awareness to recognize it and her mood became less sunny toward her hangers-on. She started actively avoiding Bridget and me, failing to pursue opportunities to tease and ridicule.

In April, three weeks before prom, I found a note in my locker.

Ben,

Can you meet me behind the auditorium after school? I want to talk.

; Brooke

I read it. Then read it again. Then read it several more times, searching for hidden meanings. At lunch, I showed it to Bridget.

"Ignore it," she said.

"You don't even know what she wants."

"Whatever it is, it's guaranteed to humiliate you. Or worse."

"It seems innocent."

"That's how traps work. They use bait. I mean, 'meet me behind the auditorium after school.' Really? She's daring you to fall for it. She'll get you to pull out your cock and someone will snap a picture. Or something like that."

I folded the note and stuck it in my pocket. The thing was, I so wanted this to be sincere. And I knew that if I didn't go, I'd wonder for the rest of my life if I had avoided more trickery or missed an opportunity. "I'm just going to see what she wants."

Bridget exhaled a sigh of resignation. "Of course you are." She knew Brooke's note was catnip to me.

The back of the school wasn't much to look at: just cracked pavement, a few emergency exits, and a shit-ton of air-conditioning units. It wasn't strictly off-limits to students but practically no one ever went there. There was no real privacy due to all the cameras and the noise from the compressors made conversation challenging.

When I rounded the corner, Brooke was already there, sitting on the concrete ledge beside one of the exits. As best I could tell, she was alone. That in and of itself surprised me. I had half-expected the entourage. And there wasn't really anywhere anyone could hide with a camera for a "gotcha!" moment.

She looked up when she noticed me coming. Much to my astonishment, she seemed uncertain. Never in my life could I remember Brooke looking uncertain about anything.

"Hey," she said. "Come over here and sit. I'm not going to bite you." Her smile was more half-hearted than predatory.

"I didn't think you would."

"Liar."

Unslinging my backpack, I sat next to her, although I kept a respectable distance. Even from a couple feet away, I could smell the commingled scents of her vanilla body wash and strawberry shampoo. They mixed nicely; she was like a parfait.

For a minute, neither of us said anything. Finally, Brooke broke the silence. "I know you probably think this is some kind of scam or trick. If I was in your position, I would have blown this off, so I'm glad you didn't. I just wanted to say;" She paused, as if trying to figure out how to continue. "I've been awful to you," she finally finished.

Her words didn't reassure me. "What is this really about? Look, Brooke, I know I've let you walk all over me for years now but high school is almost over and, after graduation, you and I will probably never see each other again. So whatever it is that you have to say, say it."

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise, as if my sudden display of backbone had been the last thing she had expected. "Okay, look. I'm trying to apologize." She suddenly looked tired, deflated. Then I recognized what she was: a deposed queen, abandoned by her court and reckoning with the damage she had done during her reign.

"Why now?" I asked.

She leaned back against the brick wall. For the first time in all our interactions, she let her facade slip. That's when I got a glimpse beneath the mask: loneliness, sadness, maybe even a little fear. She knew I was looking and allowed me to see. "Because we're graduating and life is changing. I've been realizing how small our world was and how big it's about to get. You said it; we'll probably never see each other again and I knew; well, I didn't want you to spend the rest of your life hating me. Back in freshman year, Bridget said that one day there would be a reckoning. I guess this is it."

"That's it?" I didn't really know how to feel about this. Incredulous, mostly.

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe. Maybe not. I haven't felt like myself lately."

"I'm sorry," I said, although I had no idea what I was apologizing for. Force of habit with Brooke.

Her eyebrows drew together. "For what?"

"Uh."

"Stop apologizing during my apology."

"Sorry."

She looked at me and we both laughed. Real laughter, not forced or awkward. It was the first time I'd ever laughed with Brooke.

Brooke leaned a little closer, closing part of that two-foot gap. The fruity scent was nearly overpowering. "You still scared of me, Ben?"

"Yes," I said.

"You don't have to be."

Then the emergency door opened and out stepped Bridget. My knight in shining armor. Her eyes took in everything in a glance: me, Brooke, the tiny space between our shoulders.

Brooke straightened, acting like the kid who had been caught stealing from the cookie jar.

"Wow," she said. Then, to Bridget: "He is old enough to take care of himself."

Bridget ignored her, instead focusing on me. "You okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah." I couldn't shake the feeling that if Bridget hadn't appeared, Brooke might have kissed me. I couldn't help but be a little annoyed by the interruption.

"He's fine, Bridget. We were just talking. No nefarious agendas."

"That's new."

"I was apologizing."

Bridget didn't say anything. She just stood there, glaring.

Brooke lifted both hands. "What? You want one too?"

No response.

Brooke stood. "You know what, Bridget? Your whole loyal-dog thing is exhausting." Then, to me, "What is it they say? No good deed goes unpunished." She grabbed her bag and walked past us, not even glancing back over her shoulder as she exited.

"I'm not your guard dog," Bridget said when Brooke was out of hearing range. "I don't defend you because I think you're weak. I do it because I care about you and because you're too kind to fight back."

"I know."

"I'm glad she apologized." Her tone indicated the exact opposite. She then added, "She's messing with your head and you're letting her because you want to believe whatever shit she's dishing out."

I wanted to deny it because what I had seen in Brooke's face told me Bridget was wrong this time. But if Brooke really had been trying to build a bridge, my best friend's untimely arrival had trashed that effort.

Bridget sighed. "Some people can be sorry and still selfish."

Prom came and went. I didn't ask Brooke or Bridget, preferring the safety offered by my small cadre of equally dateless male friends. Bridget went with a group from track. Brooke went with Caleb Morrison, whose high school celebrity status reaffirmed her own position on the student hierarchy.

I spent most of the night trying not to look at either Bridget or Brooke, but my eyes were drawn to them regardless. Brooke was stunning in a pale blue dress. It complemented her eyes, made her blonde hair dazzle, and hugged her tits so tightly it was almost indecent. Bridget wore something soft, simple, and green, with her hair down instead of in its customary ponytail.

At some point, late in the night, I stepped outside to get some air. Bridget was already there, almost as if she had been waiting for me, although I knew she hadn't been. She stood near the edge of the parking lot, arms crossed, looking up at the sky. The music thumped through the gym walls behind us.

"You hiding too?" I asked.

"There's only so much 'dancing' I can take."

Chuckling, I stood beside her. For a while we didn't talk.

Then she said, "Last high school e

The Busty Young Babysitter: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Thu, 06 Aug 2026 23:20:00 +0000

The Busty Young Babysitter: Part 2

How long can John hide his lusty tryst?.

Based on a post by seth p, in 2 parts. Listen to the ►Podcast at Connected.

John woke the next morning with a start. He popped up into a sitting position, full of panic. What had he done? He looked around the room. It was empty except for himself and the bedroom door was shut. There was absolutely no evidence of last night's tryst with the baby sitter. Maybe it was a dream? As John yanked on a t-shirt and sweatpants, he knew in his mind that he had done something very, very wrong last night.

He all but ran down the steps and into the kitchen and stopped dead in the doorway. Rachel and the two kids were singing a song about a bus and eating fruit loops between verses. It was the cutest thing John had ever seen. It had been a long time since there had been any singing in the Greene home. John smiled despite himself.

"Say, 'good morning, Daddy,'" Rachel commanded and kids cheerfully did as they were instructed and then went back to eating their cereal.

"We need to talk," John said, motioning for Rachel to follow.

"Sure," Rachel said smiling deeply at him. "You can finish the movie after you eat," she said to the kids as she followed John into the downstairs office.

He shut the door behind him, but Rachel spoke first.

"Kathy called."

"She did?" John kept himself calm.

"Yes. She called while you were sleeping. She was a little surprised that I was still here, but thought that it was a good idea. She asked if I could watch the kids tomorrow and Tuesday until she came home."

"I...well I was going to ask you but...I mean...it's not a good idea now. We need to talk about last night."

Rachel ignored John's comment and kept on going. "Did you know that I don't have school this week?"

"I didn't know that, but..." John countered. "It doesn't matter."

"So I told Kathy that I could, and she said you had early morning meetings both Monday and Tuesday and thought that spending the night in the guest room Sunday and Monday night would be best for the kids."

"She did?" John was flummoxed.

"Yes. I already told my mom and she's dropping off a bag of clothes for me later today. We're all set."

"No...I mean, we're not all set." John said.

"Kathy asked me what we did last night."

"What?"

"You heard me, didn't you?"

"Yes...what did you tell her?"

"What do you think I told her?"

John shook his head. Rachel wouldn't do that do him.

Rachel just laughed.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Rachel said. She smiled and left the room.

"I don't want anything," John said to himself. What was he supposed to do now? It was his dream come true and his worst nightmare. How could anything go back to normal again? Why would he want it to?

John decided to skip breakfast. He snuck a cup of coffee when Rachel was in tending to the children and then went upstairs to finish his TPS report.

He had been shut off in his bedroom the entire morning without interruption when the bedroom door opened. It was Rachel with her bags.

"Hey you," she said coyly. "I didn't want to disturb you while you were working up here. Everyone is down for their naps and I thought I'd take a shower."

"Thank you," John said. "You really are great with them. They'd still be crying if I was alone here trying to put them down to sleep."

"Well you aren't alone. You aren't alone anymore," Rachel said, peeling off her t-shirt.

"You shouldn't," John protested. "Last night was..." He was unable to finish as she stepped out of her shorts. She was perfect.

Rachel just giggled and locked the bedroom door. Her massive tits bounced as she walked towards John. He stood there frozen, his breathe quickening. Rachel changed directing just before she reached him and sauntered into the master bathroom. She looked back, motioning him to follow. John did.

Rachel had already started the shower. "I...I'm going downstairs to get some...to..." he stammered.

"I want you to join me in the shower. Please?" she walked over and kissed him hard on the lips, placing a hand on his crotch at the same time. He was already rock hard. She grabbed his cock firmly through the fabric of his pants.

John kissed her back, his hands roaming over her young supple body. Rachel stepped back. "Please?"

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I love you silly," Rachel said giggling again. She turned and walked into the shower.

John stared after her. Nobody beside his children, had told him that in years. Could she even know what love was? Asking God to forgive him, he pulled off his clothes and entered the shower with Rachel. Last night was bad enough, but at this second in time, he was about to cross the line of no return. Maybe he'd already crossed it last night. It didn't matter.

Rachel handed him the body wash and sponge. "I really need you to get my back good," she said turning away from him.

John started to lather up her back. Just touching her was sending electric shocks throughout his entire body. He felt like his head was going to explode.

"Don't forget my ass." She winked at him.

John didn't. He couldn't imagine ever forgetting a perfectly round ass like hers. It just wasn't possible. He worked the soap over her shapely ass and thighs and down the back of her legs and then worked his way up the sides of her stomach and reached around to her enormous boobs. Rachel moaned and leaned back against him as he worked his hands over them.

"It's my turn," Rachel said turning around. John closed his eyes as this beautiful young woman cleaned every last inch of him, paying singular attention to his rigid cock.

They made out as the hot water washed away all the soap. It seemed to wash away all of John's doubt and shame as well. They toweled off and then Rachel led John back out onto the bed.

"Let me take care of this for you," she said dropping to her knees in front of him. "It's so big. You have no idea how full I felt last night. I didn't know I could feel like that."

"Oh...it's not that big...I mean..."

John stopped talking as Rachel engulfed his member deep into her mouth. She was good. She slid her mouth up and down his shaft, taking him deeper each time. Then she blew his mind as she took him so deep into her throat that her nose was buried in his pubic hair. John had never felt anything so good in his life. Kathy certainly wasn't capable of this. Hell, she wouldn't even give him a hand job anymore.

John looked down at Rachel and they stared into each other's eyes as she worked her wonderful mouth up and down his shaft. She was drooling around his cock and moaning as she sucked him. John only lasted a few minutes.

"I'm going to cum," he warned.

Rachel pulled her mouth off of his cock long enough to plead for him to fill her mouth with it. That was all it took, and he started pumping cum between her lips.

"Ugh...Oh God..."

Rachel kept on sucking and swallowing until John started to deflate in her mouth. She pulled her mouth away. "Yummy."

John collapsed back onto the bed. "Come here," he commanded.

Rachel stood up. "I'm right here."

"No. That's not what I mean. Come here. I want your pussy on my face. I'm going to eat you."

"Oh!" Rachel exclaimed and then jumped onto the bed, crawling over John's body until her naked sex was right over his face. "No one's ever done that to me before."

John pulled her down onto his mouth and started to lick her oozing slit. Rachel moaned and ground herself against John's mouth. "Oh Fuck! Eat me!" she squealed.

John pleasured her, licking and sucking on her clit. It had been years since he had done this, and he was going to make the most of it. She was delicious and her body was telling him that he was doing it right.

"Oh...oh....I'm cumming," she moaned as her body shook in orgasm. John kept licking and sucking her as she came. Rachel kept grinding her pussy against John's mouth. She rolled off of him a few minutes later, breathing heavily.

John looked over at her squeezing her hand. "Are you okay?"

"I couldn't breathe...fuck...that was so intense...that was so good....oohh."

They both lay there recovering on the bed, holding hands.

"I love you," Rachel said and then grabbed some clothes and a small bag of toiletries and ran into the bathroom.

"Shit," John said to himself, still savoring her taste on his tongue. "She really is delicious."

Rachel came out a few minutes later. "It's all yours," she said smiling at him. "I'm going to check on the kids and what I've got in the oven."

She was wearing the tightest jeans that John had ever seen. They were a second skin, revealing every inch of her luscious ass and shapely legs. She had on an almost sheer white top with a plunging neckline. John could see her large thick nipples poking against the fabric. Rachel just laughed at him and left the bedroom. John's cock was semi-hard again. He shook his head and walked into the bathroom.

John brushed his teeth, got dressed and went downstairs as well. When he got there he could smell a roast that Rachel had in the oven. She knew her way around the kitchen for sure. She was outside playing with the kids again. What was he going to do? Did she really love him? Was he going to leave his wife? What about the kids? She was too young for him!

Just then there was a knock on the front door. John was surprised when he opened it up and it was his sister. "Uh...Hi," John said, clearly surprised.

"Hey John," she said. "Well, aren't you going to let me in?"

Of course not, John thought to himself. My braless, barely-legal, illicit lover is out back playing with my children and you want to come in? Instead, John simply said, "yes."

John's sister, Wendy, was a few years younger than John and lived in Pennsylvania.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, just now noticing that she had a suitcase with her.

"Don't you remember?" She sighed and stared at him. "I told you I was heading out west for the writer's faire and that I'd be stopping by Sunday night. Don't tell me that you forgot?"

"I...no...I mean yes. I forgot."

"Where's Kathy?"

"Well that's part of the problem. Her sister was in the hospital and she left to help her out for a few days. Things have been kind of crazy around here, especially with work. It doesn't matter though. You're always welcome and we always have room for you."

"Well that explains a lot," Wendy said laughing. "Are you cooking? Something smells wonderful."

"Well, not exactly," John said grabbing Wendy's suitcase and setting it near the stairs. "Do you remember Rachel, our babysitter?"

"She's here? She's cooking?"

"Yes. It was all Kathy's idea."

"Of course," Wendy replied. "I see."

There was no love lost between John's sister and his wife. "Come on out and say hi to the kids," John said, leading Wendy to the back of the house.

As soon as the kids saw John's sister, they came running in from the back yard. "Hi Aunt Wendy!" they said in unison, smothering her in hugs and kisses.

"Hi," Rachel said sheepishly, standing in the doorway.

"Hi Rachel," Wendy said, arching her eyebrows, obviously shocked by Rachel's barely covered breasts. "Shouldn't...never mind...do you remember me from a few a few years ago? You've changed."

"Thank you," Rachel replied. "I do remember you."

At this point the kids ran back outside to finish making mud pies and Rachel hurried along behind them.

"John, we need to talk," Wendy said angrily to John. "She looks like a slut and in front of the kids."

"I was upstairs working and just now came down. I had no idea," he defended himself. His own anger was rising; or was it guilt?

"Okay...Christ, I'm sorry," Wendy said putting a hand on her brother's arm. "It's been a long drive and I'm a little grumpy. I was just shocked. I know that's how girls dress these days. Could you tell her to change shirts, for me?"

"Of course," John replied. "Why don't you go upstairs and freshen up. Rachel was going to stay in the guest room but it's all yours. She won't mind sleeping on the couch."

Wendy just nodded and took her bags upstairs. John called Rachel in, but before he could say anything, she told him that she was going upstairs to change shirts and get her stuff out of the guest room.

"That was easy," he said to himself. Why did she have to make everything so damn easy?

John and Wendy spent the rest of the afternoon catching up and playing with the kids as Rachel made dinner. "It's like having your own live in housekeeper," Wendy said as Rachel call from the kitchen that dinner was ready. John smirked. It was a lot more than that.

Dinner was great and Wendy started warming up to Rachel. They both kicked John out of the kitchen and cleaned up together. They were actually having a good time in there, joking around. John thought that it was nice to have the sound of friendly laughter coming out of the kitchen for a change.

When it was time to turn in for the night, Wendy apologized for taking the guest room and offered it back to Rachel.

"No thanks Wendy," Rachel replied. "I'm fine out here and these couches are very comfortable. I'll probably sleep better than you."

John hoped so. He knew that he wouldn't be able to resist her if she snuck into his room tonight. He still didn't know what he was going to do? Just cut Rachel off and find another babysitter? Would she keep quiet? Did John even want her to?

John awoke in the middle of the night with a massive hard on. Well, that wasn't quite right. He awoke in the middle of the night to Rachel jacking him off to his full length and hardness.

"Rachel! What are you doing? My sister is in the next room!" he hissed at her.

Rachel responded by taking half his shaft into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it. Soon she was bobbing her head up and down his thick cock, making wet slurping noises. John was unable to protest. The feeling was too good and the sounds of her sloppy blowjob were almost too much.

Rachel pulled her mouth off of his cock, drool running down her chin. "I missed you today. I felt like we had to keep our relationship a secret with your sister here."

"We do," John said as Rachel pulled off her oversized t-shirt letting her monumental tits spring free. "Oh, my God."

Rachel got on the bed and lay back, spreading her legs. "I've never needed anything in my life as badly as I need you right now. I was going to ask you to make love to me but all I really want you to do is fuck me," she said pouting her lips for effect.

"I...Wendy is...you..." John stammered. His cock was impossibly hard and it hurt.

Rachel inserted a finger into her pussy and started fucking herself with it. "I need this to be your cock, lover. Your cock is much thicker and longer than my finger and it will pump me full of your baby seed."

In spite of himself he crawled over Rachel, squeezing one of her plump boobs as she continued to finger herself. Did she just say baby seed? He had filled her pussy up with his semen without using protection. He hadn't even bothered to ask her if she was on the pill. What if he got her pregnant? She probably already was. This was a nightmare. She was his personal whore of Babylon and he was helpless to stop himself.

"Please," Rachel whispered huskily. "Be my man and fuck me."

"I am your man," John said and thrust himself inside her. Soon they were sucking on each other's tongues as they fucked. Rachel was moaning into his mouth and grabbing John's ass, urging him deeper. Rachel was so tight and warm and alive. He knew in that instant that he would never give her up. They both came together, neither of them noticing Wendy watching from the doorway.

Rachel slept with John that night, only bothering to get dressed when his alarm clock went off for work. She took her time pulling on her pajamas and leaving his room.

When John finished dressing, he left the room and ran right into Wendy.

"John...we need to talk."

"What's up? I haven't had any coffee yet so don't make it too complicated."

"Oh this is going to be easy," Wendy said looking like she was about to unleash the fury of the world upon him.

"Okay, you've got my attention."

"I know that Rachel slept with you last night."

"Slept with me?"

"Don't make me say it. Goddamn you!"

"I..."

"I saw you fucking each other's brains out last night. There! Do you understand that?""

John strode past his sister and headed down the stairs and into the kitchen. Rachel and the kids were sitting there eating fruit loops. He stood there for a minute, realizing that his little fantasy was soon going to be over. Rachel stood up as soon as she saw John enter the kitchen, and went over to the coffee machine. Wendy followed John into the kitchen and her and Rachel shared a look. It was a look that said that there were no secrets here this morning. They both turned and looked at John.

"Go finish your movie, guys," Rachel said to the children. They both took off into the family room leaving only the adults.

"John?" Rachel asked. It was a question that really asked everything.

"John," Wendy said simply.

John started to sweat. He wanted to crawl into a hole. It was moments like this that defined who a man really was. He didn't want to be a timid little coward who cheated and lied.

The Busty Young Babysitter: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Thu, 06 Aug 2026 13:30:59 +0000

The Busty Young Babysitter: Part 1

John has it bad for his top heavy young babysitter.

Based on a post by seth p, in 2 parts. Listen to the ►Podcast at Connected.

Rachel was just pulling her coat on when John came down the stairs. He handed Rachel her payment in cash.

"Thank you, Mr. Greene." Rachel smiled in gratitude.

"You're welcome," he replied. "You deserve every penny. Kathy and I are very happy with you. There is no one that we trust the kids with more than you."

"Thank you, that means a lot. I love them like they're my own. I would do anything for you guys."

Rachel was starting to blush and was having a hard time meeting John's gaze. For his part, John was having a hard time keeping his eyes away from Rachel's exposed cleavage. Did she realize what she was doing? It was bad enough that her breasts were over-large on her small frame, jutting out from her chest like a pair of ripe melons. Why did she have to wear such revealing clothing? John was glad that she wasn't meeting his gaze. He was embarrassed at his lack of self-control.

"Okay...I guess we'll see you on Saturday then." He cleared his throat and broke the awkward silence. How long had he been standing there trying not to look at her chest and not saying anything?

"Yes. I'll be here at six p.m," She managed to meet his eyes. "Bye, Mr. Greene." She grabbed her purse and hurried out the door.

Do all high school seniors dress that way? He wondered. He had to remind himself that she was eighteen and could dress any damn way she chose. She was an adult now, although just barely. John stood there for a long time staring at the closed door, until his wife called to him from upstairs.

"Coming, honey," he said. "Just turning out the lights and locking up down here."

John dreamed of the busty little babysitter all night long and awoke with one of the hardest, most painful erections of his life. His wife had already left for work and he resigned himself to a cold shower. Not that she would have done anything, John thought. He was running late himself and barely made it to work on time. It was a long day and it took John most of it to clear his head.

The week progressed at a snail's pace, but Saturday arrived at last. John's wife had tickets to the opera and although John couldn't think of anything he hated more, he resigned himself to his fate. It was bad enough that she always seemed to have a headache when there was a concert that John wanted to go to, but she expected him to attend all of her highbrow events.

The doorbell rang and John ran down the steps to open it. It was Rachel, and she couldn't have worn a tighter shirt if she tried. It clung to her chest like a second skin. Her giant, gravity-defying tits were straining to burst right through it.

"H...uh..." John stammered. He started to shake and cough just like the old man in that famous book by Nabokov.

Rachel giggled. "Can I come in?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed a little too loudly. "Sorry, Rachel. It was a long week and I'm exhausted." He stood to the side allowing her to saunter past him.

"It's okay, Mr. Greene." She gave him a long look before turning her attention to the children who ran in from the back yard to greet her.

John went upstairs to finish getting ready. By the time he and his wife came downstairs, Rachel was busy playing with the children in the living room. He noticed that she had put on a cardigan that made her clothes look considerably more conservative. Was that for his wife's benefit? Was she just trying to mess with him?

His wife was already out the door as John turned to give Rachel her final instructions. "We'll be back after eleven sometime. Is that okay?"

"Of course," Rachel replied, giving John a huge smile. "Um...would it be okay if you could give me a ride home? My car isn't running and my mom gave me a ride over here."

"Yes. That would be fine." John wondered if he could drive without sneaking glances over at her chest on the way to her house.

The opera was every bit as boring as John imagined it would be. He tried to put his arm around his wife a couple of times as they watched, but she brushed his hand off and gave him a look that told him how inappropriate he was being. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time she smiled at him, or laughed with him. He couldn't remember the last time they'd had a conversation that didn't entail her bitching at him for something.

He had been resigned to his fate for a while now. The marriage wasn't all bad and there had been glimmers of hope that it might get better and then of course there were the children. They had tried counseling, but his wife wouldn't do any of the actual work once they got home. She refused to talk to him about any of the issues that were raised in their sessions. She had the opinion that she was right about everything and wasn't open to the chance that she could be wrong. He found himself thinking about Rachel during the opera and cursing himself for his thoughts.

At last the show was over. "That was an excellent performance, don't you think?" his wife asked as they made their way out to the car. "Much better than that awful Foo Fighters rubbish you listen to."

John thought it better to keep his thoughts to himself, and they drove home in silence. Why did she have to throw that little barb at him? As they pulled into the driveway, he reminded Kathy that he had to give Rachel a ride home.

Kathy snorted and then told him that he better not forget to pay her and not to wake her up when he got back. She grabbed her coat and went into the house in front of him, said a quick good-night and thank you to Rachel and disappeared up the stairs.

John followed her in the door, fished some cash out of his pocket and handed it to Rachel. She was just slipping on her flip-flops and smiling at him. She wasn't wearing her cardigan.

"How were the kids?"

"They were perfect angels, just like always."

"No problems?"

"Of course not, Mr. Greene," she said. "They love me and you know that I love them."

John thought that an odd response. "Well...you know we both adore you and thank you for watching them. Kathy was exhausted or she would have told you herself."

"Oh, there's no need to apologize for her, Mr. Greene," Rachel answered.

That was another strange response. John was tired, though and didn't let his mind linger on it. "Are you ready?"

"Oh, yes. I'm totally ready." Rachel grinned at him.

John tried not to stare. Was she thrusting her chest out further on purpose? Her flat stomach was showing between the bottom of her shirt and her tight pants. John wondered if she was ever able to tuck her shirts in.

John looked away and opened the door letting Rachel exit first. They got in the car and John started the long drive to Rachel's house. She had been their babysitter for the past three years and that first year, Kathy and John took turns driving her home. It had been awhile since John had been alone in the car with her and he was having trouble finding something to say.

Rachel saved him the trouble. "How was the opera Mr. Greene?"

John could feel her gaze on him. "Oh it was fine," he lied. "Well, Kathy enjoyed it a lot more than I did."

"I bet," Rachel replied. "I'm sure you would have been much happier at a Foo Fighters or Def Tones concert."

"How...really...you like the Foo Fighters?" he asked, wondering how she had come to mention two of his favorite bands.

"Yes. I love both of them, and I know you do too. You're really funny."

"I try," John replied, feeling out of some kind of loop.

"I was looking through your CDs on the stereo," Rachel finished, laughing. "You always get nervous around me."

There, she had said it. Rachel had come out with one of those cold hard truths that most people don't talk about openly.

"Don't say that. I...I don't," John fumbled over his words. Who was the adult here?

"I'm just kidding with you. You're turning all red by the way," she replied.

John knew that he was turning red. This conversation was making it hard to concentrate on driving up the winding country road to Rachel's house. A flash of movement to one side, caught his eye and he realized he should have been paying more attention to the road.

A deer darted out from the trees and in front of John's car. He barely had time to brake and steer to avoid it. He managed to miss the deer but slid his car off of the road and into some brush on the side. Rachel screamed as the car came to a stop.

John's heart was racing. He reached across to grab Rachel's arm and accidentally brushed one of her enormous boobs.

"Oh, my fucking God!" she exclaimed, breathing hard and looking over at John.

"Are you okay?" he asked, staring into her big blue eyes.

"Yes," Rachel mouthed, without making a sound, staring back so hard at John that it almost hurt him to turn away.

John's eyes drifted down to Rachel's heaving chest as she fought to control her breathing. It was mesmerizing.

"We're okay," John said, lifting his gaze back to her eyes.

He squeezed her hand a little too hard. "We're okay," he said again.

Rachel nodded and squeezed back. Her little hand felt so warm and her skin felt electric against his.

John pulled his hands away as if they were burned.

"Let's see if I can get us out of here." He looked away from her, placing all of his concentration onto restarting the car. John was certain that if he had kept gazing into Rachel's eyes and squeezing her hands, he would have leaned over and kissed her, or more.

John got the car started and back on the road, resuming the trip. He found himself driving insanely fast even after their little mishap.

"Please, slow down," Rachel requested timidly, not looking at him this time.

His body was coursing with adrenalin, as much from Rachel as from the near accident. John took a deep breath, forcing himself to slow down. He got them both there in one piece. Rachel got out of the car and came around to the driver's side, motioning for John to lower the window. John sat there looking at her through the glass for a few seconds before finally lowering it. Rachel tilted her head forward just a little too close. John started to sweat. He couldn't move or say anything.

"Thank you," she said simply, smiling at him and then turned and ran into her house.

It was a long drive home, especially with a raging hard-on. John's house was cold and dark when he got home.

"Just like my fucking life and marriage," John muttered under his breath, as he locked up and went upstairs to bed.

The rest of the weekend was non-descript and Monday came just a little too fast. The following week was a long exercise in de-motivation.

John felt like his whole life was turning into Groundhog Day and the only thing he could think about was his barely-legal baby sitter. For God's sake, she was still in high school! Life used to be so much better and he never used to have deviant thoughts about young girls.

As the weekend approached, John decided that the problem was him. His whole attitude about life and his marriage and his career was the problem. He decided that, thinking about his babysitter was a direct result of his negativity. She was exciting and different. That was all. He would change and with his mental change he could change his life and his marriage and his job and everything else for the better. There had to be a way to break through to Kathy. She wasn't a bitch when he married her. She had changed somehow. He would figure it out and come up with a plan. He wasn't about to give up.

He made up his mind to make a concerted effort to connect with his wife again. Maybe she was cold because he was cold. If he tried hard enough and long enough she would come around again. He bought a dozen roses after work on Friday and made reservations for one of her favorite restaurants for Saturday night. When he got home, Kathy was standing in the foyer with two heavy bags and her hands on her hips.

"It's about time you got home." She glared at him.

"I...are you going somewhere?" He handed her the roses.

"How nice, but they'll be dead before I get home. You've got a black thumb," she said distractedly, throwing them down on the table in the foyer.

"What do you mean? Where are you going? You know I have to work tomorrow?"

"Yes. I know you have to work. Some of us keep calendars. I'm going to my sister's for a few days."

"Why?"

"She just had surgery this morning."

"I knew that," John lied. He had forgotten all about it. "Is she okay? I didn't think you were going down there though."

"I wasn't, but she called and really needs me. I called Rachel already and she'll be here before you go to work tomorrow. I've got to go. The kids are in doing their homework. No sugar this weekend. I should be back by Tuesday evening."

Then, without a goodbye or a parting good wish, Kathy was out the door.

"Well shit." John stared after her for a moment and then went in to see the kids.

John and the kids had a great night, playing the Wii and eating way too much sugar filled food and candy. It was the best night they had together in months. He hated to admit it, but he thought it was probably because Kathy was gone. She hardly ever seemed to have fun anymore.

The next morning John woke up late. The alarm hadn't gone off or maybe he just forgot to set it. Usually Kathy reminded him. "Damn her," John muttered as he ran into the shower. He threw on some clothes and ran down the stairs. He was immediately greeted to the scent of eggs and bacon wafting from the kitchen.

"What? How?"

"Oh there you are, sleepy head." Rachel leaned out of the kitchen doorway. "We thought we heard you coming down the stairs." She held out a cup of coffee to him.

"Uh...good morning Rachel," John said, taking the coffee. "I forgot you were coming over. I guess Kathy gave you a key?"

"No silly. I know where you guys keep the extra key outside. So I came early and decided you could use a good hot breakfast. That's yours at the table. Hurry up and eat so you aren't late."

"Wow. Thank you," John said sitting down at the table and digging in. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten a hot breakfast at home. Kathy just decided one day that she was done cooking.

The kids had already finished and were in the family room watching cartoons. John stood up and grabbed his briefcase and jacket. "I'm not sure how late I'll be Rachel," he said.

"That's no problem. Stay as late as you need to. We'll be fine."

"I'll call and order you a pizza if I'm going to be really late." John was now awake enough to really look at Rachel. She was wearing another skin tight t-shirt and he could see the outline of her nipples poking out. She wasn't wearing a bra. Shit!

Rachel laughed. Had she caught him glancing at her chest? John started to turn red.

"Don't worry about pizza, Mr. Greene. I'll cook something up. Just let me know when you'll be home. I love to cook, and I've got two really good helpers in there. Say good bye to your dad, guys," she called into the family room.

"Good bye daddy!" two little voices shot out in unison.

John felt a warmth in his chest. This was how family life should be. Then he caught himself...life is what you make it.

"Okay, then," John said. "Dinner's on you, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind," Rachel said, beaming at him. "Have a great day Mr. Greene," she called after him as he walked out the front door.

John turned to her. "Call me John," he said and headed off to work.

John put in almost a full day of work finishing up his quarterly reports. He would be happy if he never saw another spreadsheet or SQL query for the rest of his life. When it was nearly six, he called Rachel and let her know that he was on his way home.

"That's great, John," Rachel said. "Dinner will be hot and ready when you get in."

"Wow. You really are good," he said. "Thanks again. You didn't really have to cook dinner."

"Yes I did silly," Rachel said, giggling, and then hung up the phone.

John found himself smiling like an idiot when he got off the phone. She had a way of making him feel like an awkward kid fresh out of high school. He had forgotten to ask her if she needed another ride home tonight.

John pulled up to his house about forty minutes later and the door opened up before he had a chance to fish his key out his pocket. "Hi, John,"Rachel smiled at him. "How was your day?" It was really nice to have someone ask about his day for once.

"It was great," he said, meaning it. It felt good to get everything done and not have to worry about someone giving him an attitude when he got home late. "I'm really glad to be home though." That was the truth.

"Well I'm glad you're home too," Rachel said. She reached out to take his briefcase and carried it into the house.

John followed her into the house and was greeted by the unmistakable smell of spaghetti and fresh garlic bread.

Rachel placed his briefcase by the stairs and motioned for John to follow her into the kitchen. She had two plates on the table and two glasses of wine as well.

"Thank you. This looks wonderful."

"You're welcome. I'm a little nervous. I'm afraid you won't like it."

The both sat down and started eating.

"Rachel, this is so good. Who taught you how to cook?" John couldn't believe how good it was.

"My mom," she replied. "Well, she started me off, but I absolutely love to cook and I've taken some classes at the community college already."

Rachel picked up her glass of wine and took a big gulp and John snapped back to reality.

"Uh...that might not be a good idea," he said. "I don't want you driving home after drinking and I don't want your parents to think that we're...partying here or something. In fact, you pr

Nothing in Common: Part 3

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Thu, 06 Aug 2026 13:29:59 +0000

Nothing in Common: Part 3

An unexpected romance.

Based on a post by Silver Fox Mullet. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Holy shit that was cold! I came up and whooped, and the sound echoed across the lake. It felt So different. Even the bikini I'd worn at the pool, which hardly counted as clothing, kept the water from flowing against a huge number of nerve endings. Nerve endings that connected directly to my libido. Wow. I whooped again, enjoying how the sound carried and how incredible the cold water felt on my nipples and my pussy.

"Good?" he asked.

I nodded and said "Yeah. Wow. Different."

Despite how wonderful it all felt, the water was still really cold, and we were done in less than ten minutes. He'd left a couple of towels hanging on a line by the tent, so we ran up the path and dried ourselves off. That left our clothes down by the shore, so we had to walk back down there to get dressed. I suspect that this was just his way of getting to see me naked a bit longer. Then again, I got to see him too. Did I mention he had a cute butt?

That erection he'd been sporting before jumping in the lake had subsided in the cold water, but it was back now. I watched him tuck himself into his shorts as I got dressed. I wanted to swim naked again before we left. That was pretty awesome.

We went for a paddle around the lake and then fished for supper. He got two of those bass, which I watched him clean. That was a gory and gruesome thing to see. I don't think I'd ever killed anything bigger than a fly, and doubted I could do that myself. True to Devin's word, fresh caught fish was delicious. Nothing like what I'd eaten before. He took more pictures of me eating those poor fish - and liking it.

After dinner we sat around the fire and he got out his guitar. He said this was his 'camp guitar' not his good one, but it sounded fine to me. He played a bunch of songs and I even knew a couple of them and we sang together. When it got dark the moon rose, nearly full, and Devin suggested going for a night swim.

It was more comfortable getting naked in the dark than in broad daylight, and as I waded out into the lake I heard the shutter sound from his cell phone camera. My first reaction was anger. I started to tell him off but he just waved me over and said "Look."

I looked. There was a silhouette of a girl wading into the water where the moon's silver light reflected off the lake in front of her. You couldn't see any details of her body, you couldn't even tell it was me. And it was beautiful. "I want this one printed and framed." he said. I agreed. It was art. We got into the water and swam around a bit. It was glorious. The feeling of the water against parts of me that never got exposed like this was incredible. I wanted to do this again someday. It was like magic. We even heard a loon calling. This time I didn't mind walking around the island naked to get to our towels and get dressed. You couldn't see much and it felt amazing. It was just a little chilly.

And chilly meant building up the camp fire and cuddling in front of it. We talked, like we usually did, about things, lots of things, everything. No, not everything. When we fell silent, I was thinking about how many new things I had done this weekend, and it was only like half over. And about some other new things I wanted to do. Things we had discussed before and agreed not to do, for good reasons.

I sat there, torn by conflicting thoughts and emotions. Finally I had to admit to myself that I wanted him. In my bed. Inside me. Just feeling that want, that need, that was new. I tried to pin down when I had changed my mind, and decided it was when he showed me that picture of me in the moonlight. He had captured a moment in my life, a special moment. And shared it with me. And I wanted more of that. Shared special moments. I knew this was partly my romantic streak, but it was also something Devin and I had built together over the last few months. Trust and sharing.

The Talk.

As the fire burned down I finally worked up the nerve to broach the subject. "Devin, can I ask you something?"

"You just did." he replied with a grin and a nudge.

"No, seriously. We need to talk."

His demeanor changed immediately. 'We need to talk' were the magic words to crush any guy's mood. "Am I in trouble?" he asked.

"Not yet. I'm worried."

"About what?"

"Tonight."

"You're afraid we'll go too far and break the rules we made."

Mister perceptive. "Something like that."

"You know I won't do that to you. Or to us. This weekend is about me showing you new things and sharing the stuff I like, with you. It's not about me getting into your pants."

"I know. I know. It's just... I enjoyed all this so much. Maybe too much. Because now I want more. Lots more."

"I know we joked around about 'first times' and 'virginities' but I was serious when I said I wouldn't take those next steps with you. We agreed."

"We did. But I want more now. I want all of it. I want everything. I want you."

"That's not something we can take back." he said.

"Yeah. I know that too."

"If you're one hundred percent behind this, then I am too."

"Really? Are you sure? I know you said you wanted to wait for the right woman. And that's not me. Not for you anyways."

"Devin. Listen to me. You are an amazing woman. Any guy who doesn't treasure you and worship you is an idiot. If I'm lucky enough to share my first time with you, I will treasure that too, beyond measure. But I have to say it again. I'll wait, if you're not 100 percent ready."

"Like my coach says all the time, 'a hundred and ten percent'."

All this talk had done two things for me. It made me cool off, so my libido wasn't in charge anymore. And it also made me dead certain that I was losing my virginity tonight. I knew I could trust Devin to make it good, to make it special. I just hoped I would make it just as special for him.

When the fire was embers and the cold began to creep in, he suggested we brush our teeth and get ready for bed. Since we had to put the fire out anyways, we spit into it as we brushed. The fire sizzled and steamed, giving off the weird scent of burnt spearmint. After a last trip to the thunderbox, we washed up, and the wash basin was dumped on the fire to finish it off.

We crawled into the tent and Devin turned on the little led lantern. This was it. My stomach was doing loop-the-loops, but it wasn't nervousness now, it was excitement. I was gonna do this. And not in any way I ever imagined, nor with anyone I would have expected. Devin rearranged the sleeping mats and zipped the bags together. Cool. I never knew they did that. Now we had one huge sleeping bag.

"This is why I chose rectangular bags for this trip instead of mummy bags. They won't do this."

"You sneaky dog! You were hoping this would happen!"

"No, I was just being prepared. I was in Scouts too long not to be."

"Okay then, Mister Be Prepared, did you think to bring condoms? Or will we have to wail till we get back to civilization?"

Devin smiled and pulled a pack of condoms out of his bag. "Be prepared" he said.

I laughed and swept my shirt off over my head. Devin followed suit. We'd both been topless numerous times with each other. Make outs were so much better with more skin in the game. I leaned back and started working my shorts and underwear off. We'd been skinny dipping twice today, so we'd finally seen each other naked. That meant this part wasn't such a big step. As that thought crossed my mind I recalled how huge Devin's cock looked. And now that squirrelly feeling in my stomach wasn't so much excitement anymore as fear.

I looked at him as he was on his back pulling the last of his clothing away from his feet. I saw he was hard. I looked down at myself. Damn, how was that supposed to fit down there? I know he said he was 'just average' but now looking across the tent, almost within arm's reach, his -thing- was positively enormous.

I guess he saw me freeze up, because he said "We can just sleep you know. We don't have to do this."

"No, it's okay, I'm just a little nervous. You're so big."

"Thank you. That's quite a confidence booster. But according to the best scientific surveys, I'm pretty close to average."

"What, like, you measured yourself?"

"Well, yeah. I'm a guy. It's kind of a rite of passage."

"And then you looked up the statistics."

"Of course."

"Nerd."

"Guilty as charged."

"I guess I shouldn't laugh, not with my teeny tits. These go unnoticed most of the time, and before you ask, yes I measured them. You need to know this stuff when you're shopping for bras."

"I keep telling you; your tits are awesome. Speaking of which, I want them pressed against me really soon. I'm getting cold sitting here."

I laughed at him again and pulled the sleeping bag open. We scrambled in and cuddled together. I don't know whose feet or hands were colder. We both squawked and complained about each other's extremities. But the naked full body contact was thrilling. I could feel his cock against my stomach as his hands wandered up and down, touching me all over. Oh my god that felt amazing!

We kissed, and the familiarity of making out calmed me down at the same time as it revved me up like crazy. At the start we were on our sides, face to face. After a while Devin was lying on top of me. He was close, so close to me down there. Knocking on heaven's door so to speak. But he didn't do anything but continue our make-out session. That got me even hotter and wetter. I knew by now that teasing was the way to really get me going, and so did Devin.

Soon, we were on our sides again, and his hands reached further and further. Going into unexplored territory. I was doing the same to him too. Touching him in places I had never had access to before. Eventually Devin pulled me on top of him. I started grinding on him, stimulating both of us. That was incredible. Sure, we'd dry-humped each other a few times, but this was so much better! He pulled me up a bit and got me to move my legs, and all of a sudden I was straddling his hips.

Now his cock was splitting my pussy lips. There was no mistaking how wet I was. We could both feel it as I rubbed up and down his shaft. I felt a tingling in my pussy that was both familiar and radically new. I quickly had an orgasm, unlike any I'd had before. My only experience with this was solo stuff, with my fingers. This was so different! Feeling his hardness right there against me, as I ground my clit on him was phenomenal! So much delicious friction between parts of us that had never touched before. It left me shaking and thrashing on top of Devin, out of breath, head spinning, and my desire to continue this was magnified tenfold. I wanted him inside me! Now!

"Where did you put those condoms?"

"Here, let me get them." he said as he gently shifted me off to the side. I laid back and waited. That tingling was still there in my pussy. Sure I was nervous, I'd heard about girls having bad first times, but I knew Devin would be careful, would take care of me. I knew I wouldn't have to worry about my hymen, as that was long gone due to the rough sports I'd played. He rolled back towards me with a packet in his hand. This was it. We were gonna do it.

Then he slid down into the sleeping bag, disappearing from my view. "Devin?"

I heard him growl down there, and suddenly he was touching my pussy. Holy fuck that was so good! I think I made some noise then, but I dunno what it was or how loud or even if it was just in my head. I felt his fingers touching me down there, where they'd never been before. That tingling escalated to a wild coruscation of energy as I came again. This time I knew I made some noise. I'd touched myself before, and yeah, it was nice, but it was nothing like this.

Devin kept going, but it was different now. At first I didn't understand, but then I realized that wonderful feeling was his tongue. I knew he understood the mechanics of sex, as we'd talked about it a bit. All of his knowledge of the opposite sex was theoretical, same as me. And now he was turning that knowledge into experience. A really really good experience! I don't know how much pleasure he was getting from this, but I was on my way to another planet as I came for the third time. That tongue of his was so wet and soft and firm and slippery as it moved around making contact with so many newly discovered nerve endings!

I discovered my hands were tangled in Devin's hair, holding him to my pussy. It's not like I was directing him or anything, I was just holding on for dear life. He kept going, touching me with his lips and tongue and fingers and he was saying something once in a while. I was in no shape to understand or answer him. I think I came a few more times before I lost it completely. I'm pretty sure I was Really loud this time. I think those things I called orgasms before were just tingly preludes to the real thing. An actual orgasm was literally mind-blowing.

I woke up some time later. The tent was dark now, so I guess Devin had shut the light off. I was curled up on my side with him spooned behind me. I wondered what I'd missed. Did we 'do it' or not?

"Devin?" I whispered.

"Hmm."

"What happened?"

"Well, I was busy with some foreplay and apparently it was so boring you fell asleep."

I rolled over to face him. "I did Not fall asleep. I passed out when you made me cum so hard."

He laughed and said "Do you still want to keep going, or was that enough?"

I considered his words. Briefly. Like for half a second. "You still have that condom?"

"Uh huh."

"Then let's go!"

I think he was soft when I woke him up, but in the few seconds we discussed this, he was hard again. He turned on the light and we fumbled around and managed to get the condom in place, then he pulled me on top of him again. "You should be in control the first time, okay?" he suggested.

I was fine with that. At least this was somewhat familiar after what we did earlier. I did the same as before, grinding on him, making those tingles build up higher and higher. His hands were all over me again. Playing with my nipples, touching me, stroking me, caressing me in so many little places. "Oh Fuck!" I said as I came again.

I was panting and shaking as I sat there astride his hips. Looking down I saw that the condom looked different. "Hey, did I get you off?"

"Oh yeah, that was awesome."

"Better get another condom then."

Once more we fumbled around trying to get the used condom off and a new one on without making a mess. He pulled me on top again and this time I reached down to position him against me. Fuck, he felt huge in my hand. How was this supposed to fit? Well, I was wetter than I'd ever been, and those orgasmic tingles were kind of a background hum now, so I pushed myself down on him.

I knew I had him in the right spot, as I was quite familiar with my own plumbing. But there was no getting him inside me. I pushed harder and harder, then suddenly he slipped in. Oh, holy fucking shit! It felt like he was splitting me wide open. I froze there, leaning on his chest, panting and shivering. That's when I felt him twitch. Which made me giggle, and he slipped in a bit further. That made me gasp as the feelings inside me kind of went boom.

Now the splitting feeling waned and this intense stuffed-full-of-cock sensation made itself known to me. That was new, and totally unexpected. He twitched again and I pulled back and pushed down once more. The tingling came back, feeling ten times better with him inside of me. I started moving up and down some more and it kept getting better and better. Soon I was bouncing on him, and those tingles were close to gaining explosive power. When I bottomed out and my clit started bumping into him I came hard.

I thought my earlier orgasms were the pinnacle of awesomeness, but nope. I could feel my pussy squeezing him, and all those nerve endings were lit up like a sparking Christmas tree inside me. On and on it went, until I found myself lying on top of Devin, out of breath like I'd just run the 440. He was cradling me in his arms, and nuzzling my neck. And he was still inside me, hard and throbbing and urgent.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Uh huh. You?"

"Oh yeah."

"You wanna keep going?" I asked him.

"As long as you want."

"I want. Can we roll over? My legs are cramping up."

When we tried to roll over he slipped out, and the sudden loss of him inside me was a shock and a disappointment. I think I moaned or something, because he laughed and tried to get himself back in place pretty quickly. Of course he missed. And missed again. And again, and again, until we were both laughing uncontrollably. I finally had to reach down between us and guide him.

And he was such a tight fit. I expected it to be tight the first time, but kind of thought it would get easier after that. No way. Between us, we managed to push and shove and work him inside me. He may have been a really tight fit, but it felt amazing. And when he started actually fucking me, holy shit, my world went wild. There was something about having him between my legs, with his weight on top of me, his arms around me, that just amplified what I'd felt earlier.

I came, and came again, and was almost ready for another explosion when he stopped and sagged onto me. I wrapped my arms around him and humped up into him to finish off what I was so close to. This one was different, because Devin's dead weight was heavy on me, and his breath was hot and fast against my neck.

We lay there, sweating, hearts hammering, wrapped up in each other's arms. "Wow." I said.

"Huh. Yah, wow." mumbled Devin.

"You're getting heavy."

"Sorry." he said as he pushed himself up. Then he reached down and eased himself out of me. That empty feeling returned, something I'd never known until he'd filled me for the first time. He got rid of the condom and we cuddled together once more. I knew we'd have to talk about this, but not tonight. Tonight was just us, together, as together as two people could get. My last thought as I fell asleep was that I was in love.

Morning came,

and I wanted Devin again. Based on his very quick reaction to my suggestion, he wanted me too. But the damned thunderbox was calling louder than our libidos. And we were both starving, plus I was a little sore from last night's unaccustomed activity. And yes, we needed to talk. So, instead of making love again, we got dressed, went to the bathroom, and started breakfast.

After we ate, we sat by the shore and just watched the lake for a while.

"You want to talk about last night?" he asked.

"Yeah. Time to talk." I sighed.

"You sound worried."

"I am worried."

"About what?"

"Us. Me. You."

He didn't say anything, he just waited. That was one of the things I liked about Devin. He was patient. He knew I wanted to talk, but he also knew that I need to think about stuff before I talk about it.

"I'm in love with you Devin." I said quietly.

"I love you, too." he said. My heart leapt in my chest. I looked at him and smiled.

"Life is going to get so complicated now." I told him.

"Maybe so. Life might also get better, too."

We sat together for a while. Then he said "When did you know?"

"When you showed me that picture you took of me in the moonlight in the water. How about you?"

"When you passed out while I was licking you."

"Really? Geeze Devin, you better come up with something more romantic. When people ask you when you fell in love with me, you can't tell them that."

"You really wanna know when I fell in love with you?"

I nodded.

&qu

Nothing in Common: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Tue, 04 Aug 2026 18:52:00 +0000

Nothing in Common: Part 2

An unexpected romance.

Based on a post by Silver Fox Mullet. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

"Okay Mom." I looked at my clock, and it really was late. Holy shit, where did the time go? I made sure my hair wasn't a total mess, and straightened my clothes a bit. I looked at Devin as he got himself in order. I especially watched as he adjusted that lump in his pants. I hadn't had any experience with one of those yet, and wondered if he was indeed the one with the punch for my V-card. No, No, No, do not go there, do not even think that.

I walked Devin to the front door and kissed him goodnight. After he got his coat and boots on, I kissed him again. Once he'd gone, I turned and found my Mom standing there with a bemused expression on her face.

"So. You two were awfully quiet upstairs, for an awfully long time."

"I, uh, yeah. I guess I have a new boyfriend."

Her eyebrows went up. "Oh, really? And all that 'not a date' stuff, and 'only studying'? What was what? Denial? Exaggeration? BS?"

I sighed and said "Denial. Sorry. I didn't think we had anything in common."

"What makes you think that it's the common stuff that makes people like each other? Why do you think they say opposites attract?"

And now it made sense. Devin was so different from the sports jocks I'd dated before. So very different. Everything about him was new to me.

"I wish life wasn't so complicated." I said.

Mom smiled and said "Oh honey, life isn't complicated unless you make it complicated." Then she glared at me. "And I don't have to tell you that teen pregnancies are complicated, do I?"

"What the hell? "Mom? We just kissed like for the first time. I don't plan on going that far until I meet the man I want to marry."

"Okay, I'm just making sure you understand that there are consequences when you make bad choices, or even good choices."

"I know, I know." I said.

Mom had sat me down when I had my first period; and explained in shocking detail, all about sex, pregnancy, and birth control. Everything from A to Z. When my friends or teammates talked about sex and stuff I heard the most outlandish things from them. All kinds of misinformation and outright crap. But I knew better. I had the facts.

Of course, when I got to school on Thursday I had to face both Devin and my friends. It was glorious and excruciating at the same time. I was walking to my first class with Marr and Theresa; when I encountered Devin and a couple of his friends.

We slipped an arm around each other and smooched. "Good morning!" I said.

"Great morning, you mean. It was already good before you kissed me."

"See you at lunch?"

"Can't wait. See you." he said, followed by another quick kiss as we separated and went off to class.

Marissa and Theresa were beside themselves. I think the only thing that kept them from screaming was that they were in shock so deep that they were unable to breathe. "I knew it!" Marr hissed. Then she glared at me and said "You never called last night like you said. You owe me words, lots of words."

We'd arrived at our class so I said "Later." When the class ended Marr and Theresa cornered me. I told them Devin had come over to my house last night, we'd studied, and then I took him up to my room and we made out until like midnight. "It was so late by the time he left I didn't have time to call you."

"Weren't your parents home?"

"Yeah, so what? My Mom was the one who suggested I take him to my room."

"Oh My God! He must've made quite an impression on your parents to allow that."

"You know my Mom, she'll let me do anything I want as long as I'm prepared to accept the consequences. And Dad, well, Devin has a classic car and Dad was too busy drooling over it to even notice us kissing goodnight."

The students for the next lecture were starting to arrive, so we rushed off to our classes. I was not going to hear the end of this from Marr, that was for sure. Well, Devin had said 'see you at lunch' so if I ate with him I'd be away from my usual group. And maybe I could avoid my friends' histrionics.

Lunch was different. Devin and I met in between our usual tables. I looked at him, and then his table, where some of his friends were staring at us. He looked at my friends nearby, who were literally gawking slack-jawed at us, and said "Your place or mine?"

"Neither. Let's go over there." I said, pointing towards the far corner of the cafeteria.

"Good idea." he nodded and we walked away from our tables full of dumbfounded friends. We sat at one end of a corner table, near a couple of Goth girls. They glared at us at first but otherwise ignored us after that.

"So, how are your friends taking our new status?" he asked.

"Lunatics, all of them. My love life is now their most prized possession. They pick it up and play with it, and talk about it, and pick it apart and put it back together in the weirdest ways they can think of."

He laughed, almost choking on his sandwich. "My friends are all warning me off. They've spotted a dozen red flags already and they've only got started."

"Red flags? For what? I'm perfect, I'll have you know."

He started ticking points off on his fingers. "You're a Jock. They think you'll be like some dominatrix and turn me into some weak and whiny simp. Like They aren't exactly like that, pift. You're too tall. Your friends are too bitchy and weird. Hah! Like my friends aren't just as weird. We got nothing in common, like that matters. And on and on."

"What about my, uh, my chest?" I said, pushing out my meager bust.

"Yeah, that too. Apparently I can do so much better than Flat Girl. Sorry."

"No. They're right. I am Flat Girl."

He looked a little angry all of a sudden. "Hey. Devin. Look, I like you, I think you're cool. I like how you look. I, uh, I like your tits. I wouldn't change anything about you. At least not yet. Maybe I can find something that needs work, if I look real hard."

I stole a glance at the Goth chicks but they weren't paying us any attention. "You like my tits? Really?" I whispered.

"Yeah. Really."

"Well. That's a first."

"'That's a first'? That's a crime. Wait till I get you alone again."

Jesus. Devin knows how to find, push, and crush all my buttons. I've had guys be forward with me, but it always felt slimy and I'd brush them off. Devin does it, and I feel all hot and bothered. And I wanted more.

"And when would that be?" I asked him.

"I guess we have to compare schedules." he said, pulling out his phone. I pulled mine out and he raised an eyebrow. "You know a schedule is a type of list, Miss No Lists?"

"Maybe your list about me is incomplete." I said archly. That made him laugh.

We compared our very busy calendars and discovered that we had only a few times a week when we were both free. Few, but not none, thankfully. Mostly late in the evenings, like after 9. He was working this Saturday, so tonight and Sunday were our best options this week. And we could always squeeze in an hour or two like last night. My insides quivered when I thought of those kisses. Yeah, even an hour or two here and there would be great.

Both groups of our friends

were now acting like loonies, as if our relationship was the most newsworthy thing that had ever happened in all of history. That was tiresome to say the least. The only silver lining was that the two groups didn't mesh well, so they never got together to gang up on us. That would have been unbearable.

We didn't really have much of a social life together, at least outside of hanging out at each other's house whenever we could. School, sports, rehearsals, and jobs took up most of our time and kept us apart. Our relationship was new enough that we spent a lot of our time together just talking. Yeah, there was some smooching, which made me all hot and bothered, but no more than that. That was something we talked about, too. How far we wanted to go, and when. It's not like we made a schedule or anything, we just agreed to keep our hands above clothing. Groping was Okay, but no skin.

Valentine's Day was amazing. Damn, my whole romantic ideal thing was rung like a bell when Devin arrived to pick me up for the school dance. He was just everything I ever wanted out of a date. Stylish, polite, and romantic. And he could dance! Oh my god, could he dance! What the hell should I have expected from a Drama Nerd? We had an awesome time, and I kissed him goodnight hard enough to make him stagger back to his car like he was wasted.

When the seasons change, so does my sports schedule. That meant finding time to get together changed too. But it was spring, so nice weather was happening, and we could hang around outside or go for romantic walks in the park to see the trees and flowers in bloom. Again, a Drama Nerd is pretty much guaranteed to be a romantic. I ain't gonna say I was in love, but I liked him a whole lot and we had fun together.

Devin was coming over for dinner,

so I was in the driveway shooting some hoops while I waited for him. He pulled up out front when he saw me out there, instead of pulling into the driveway and squeezing me out of my court. I had a boyfriend last year who would just roll up and I'd basically have to jump out of the way. I liked Devin better every day.

"Hey you." he said.

"Hey yourself. Wanna shoot a few?"

"I dunno. I'm not very good at this."

"Come on, give it a try. I'll go easy on you."

"All right. What are the rules?"

"We take turns making plays for the net. Winner is the first to score five baskets."

"Okay. I guess."

"Here, you go first." I said as I bounced him the ball.

Devin dribbled a couple of times then went towards the net. He telegraphed his moves so much I couldn't help but take the ball from him. And he ended up on his butt.

"Oh shit! Sorry. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, my dignity has a bigger bruise than my rear end."

Then it was my turn. I set up, and took the ball in. It was like he wasn't even there. He fell for the easiest fake ever and I laid the ball in the net.

"Whoa." he said. "What was that? I though you said you'd go easy on me?"

"I did go easy on you. Here, your turn."

Once again he ended up sprawled on my driveway and I had the ball.

"I'd hate to go up against you for real. Yikes." he said as he dusted himself off.

This time I kept one hand behind my back. I still beat him easily. Same for defending against him. I could beat him easy with one hand. He noticed what I was doing, and shook his head.

"How much of a handicap are you going to need to play with me?"

"Uh, probably four shots of rum and tie my right hand to my left ankle?"

He laughed and tossed me the ball. We played for another ten minutes, me with my right hand in my pocket and I beat him on every point. I'll say this, any other guy I'd ever met would have been pissed and would have walked away, angry because he got beat by a girl, but not Devin. He just laughed and kept playing. Not because he had a chance, but just because he was with me, I think.

Romeo and Juliet

was awesome! We never did that play in English class, we red the Merchant of Venice instead. Of course I was maybe a bit biased because my boyfriend was playing the lead. I was also a bit jealous of his scenes with Rachel. She played Juliet, and she was an absolute fox. But the way Devin came looking for me after the show and the way he wrapped me up in that hug of his, oh, yeah, that was nice. I guess performing pumped up his adrenaline or something because he was a lot more 'on' than his usual laid-back self.

A bunch of the girls were mooning over him after the play, because he did such an awesome job of playing the forlorn romantic star-crossed lover. And the rumors that started running wild about him and Rachel were ridiculous. Really? Some of the stuff I heard was worse than stupid, it was downright moronic. And all of it just rolled off Devin like he was teflon. None of the crap stuck, he was the same guy as always, and the same to me too. Better, even, to judge by the kisses I got.

Our relationship had progressed,

to where our parents were giving us the stink-eye when we were up in my room or his for too long with the door shut. Before, they knew it was too soon for anything serious to happen, but now, well... Now we were like a real couple, holding hands and kissing and cuddling. And going out on real dates when we could get our time off lined up. Our folks were worried that we were heading off down that road to 'next steps'. Despite my Mom being very relaxed about my life choices, even she was making comments.

Devin and I talked about it, and we were both onside with waiting, and not taking those significant steps yet. So, no sex. But we were going a little further now. Second base had been rounded, woo hoo! And Devin really did seem to like my boobs, despite their lack of heft. That was both surprising and gratifying. More than gratifying, it was practically orgasmic. And it unfortunately gave me the confidence to consider stealing third. Not doing it, no, just... considering it. For later. Maybe.

Prom was another amazing night.

You want a romantic date, go out with a drama nerd. No dress in the world was gonna give me cleavage or make me look like a supermodel, but you wouldn't have known that from Devin's reaction. It was like his eyes were glued to me and he only left my side when one of use had to hit the washroom. Neither of us danced with anyone else all night, even though a lot of girls asked him, he said 'no thank you' and danced with me instead.

We'd booked a room at the hotel for after Prom, which generated a shitstorm of nagging and worry from our parents. But were 18 and we knew what we were doing, and knew what we would not be doing. Yes, we would be sleeping together, and there would be some fooling around, but no sex. It wasn't so much the promises we made to our parents but the promises we made to each other that set those limits.

That night was a perfect end to a perfect evening. Devin was careful not to overstep boundaries and didn't push me for any more than cuddling and kissing. Knowing that you can trust a person to that extent was a new thing for me. For him too I think. All our friends knew we spent the night together and assumed we had sex. It didn't matter if we denied it or not, it would not change their minds. They knew. Or they thought they did. Whatever.

Exam time rolled around,

and we were busy studying all the time. All my practices and games were done with, but I still went to the pool and the gym a lot to stay in shape. I mentioned to Devin that maybe he could join me at the pool some time.

"I know you're not doing anything that early in the morning, so I was wondering if you wanted to join me at the pool? I usually do a bunch of laps, just to keep up my cardio. That is, if you even know how to swim?" I dug at him.

Devin looked a bit aggrieved. "Hey! I know how to swim, I got all the fitness and swimming badges in Scouts. I just don't compete or anything like that."

"Ah, okay. So you wanna come with me tomorrow to swim?"

"Sure. What time?"

"Pick me up at six."

His eyes went wide and he said "Six? Like AM?"

I grinned at him. "Yeah, I don't have get up so early anymore, I get to sleep in till then."

He rolled his eyes at that but agreed to pick me up.

We got to the pool,

and separated to head for our respective change rooms. I was a little nervous because once again I was probably gonna embarrass Devin with my physical prowess. This time in public, instead of in my driveway or my back yard or wrestling on my bed. I knew he was an easy-going kind of guy, not all hung up on having a macho image, but still, this kind of thing can sting.

To take a little bit of that sting out of the situation I'd bought a new suit. A two-piece. My usual standard was a one-piece racer-back. It had pretty good coverage and stayed on even when you were diving or being really active in the water. This new one was a bikini. A tiny one. It was like a bunch of string and some little triangles of fabric. I was afraid I'd lose the silly thing the first time I tried to do more than a leisurely backstroke. So it would probably slow me down as well as give Devin a thrill.

I walked nervously out of the change room and looked for Devin. There he was, in a pair of loose fitting trunks. Thank god he wasn't like the guys on the swim team with their little speedos. Those were just so wrong. Actually, the meager bit of swimwear I had on was just as wrong. What had I been thinking?

Then Devin turned and saw me. I think I blushed several shades of red on various body parts as he gazed at me. Holy shit, that look on his face was awesome. Oh yeah, this boy really really liked me. "Like what you see?" I asked.

"Wow. Devin, you are absolutely beautiful."

"Why thank you. I do try to dress to impress."

"Uh, so, can we get into the pool now? I'm afraid I'll have an embarrassing reaction if I have to stand here looking at you looking like this."

I laughed at him and slipped into the pool. Looking back at him, he had a stunned look on his face. Yup, this bikini was well worth the price. He got into the pool and we swam over to the lanes to do some laps. The new suit felt weird, like it was gonna fall off any second, and that really kept my pace down. Despite that, Devin seemed to have to work hard to keep up with me. We did our laps and stretched in the shallow end for a few minutes to let our muscles loosen up a bit before heading back to the change rooms.

When we met back outside Devin asked me if I wanted to go on a canoe trip with him the weekend after exams were over. An overnighter, he called it. I knew we both had the time off from work, so yeah it was possible.

"Camping? You mean, like spending the night together? In a tent?"

"Yeah. I really think you'll enjoy it."

"This isn't just some ploy to get me into a sleeping bag with you, is it?"

"Oh, it's definitely that, but it's also a lot of fun. You said you never went camping before, right?"

He remembered that? Of course he did, he probably still has that list he started writing back in February. Mr. List Guy. "Uh huh. I'm a camping virgin."

"Umm. How many virginities do you wanna lose next weekend?"

"Well, what kind of first times are you offering?"

"I got a canoe. Ever gone canoeing?"

"Nope. That's one."

"I have a tent. I know that's a first for you. I also have a fishing rod. Ever gone fishing?"

"Nope, never. Umm. Now you're asking me to handle your rod, huh?"

"Probably the biggest rod you've ever put your hands on."

Oh god, it was getting Really difficult to keep a straight face now.

"What else you got?"

"Shore lunch?"

"Eating something fishy-tasting? Is that where this is going?"

I could see he was having trouble keeping it together now too.

"Ever been swimming in a lake? Or are you just a pool girl?"

"Hmm. No lakes, just the pool and the ocean."

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere. A lake virgin. Have you ever gone skinny-dipping?"

"There it is. Now you're trying to get me naked."

"Oh for sure. But have you done it?"

"Uh, nope. Another first time. How many is that now?"

"Seven I think."

"That's probably enough for this trip. Don't want to

Nothing in Common: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Mon, 03 Aug 2026 18:51:00 +0000

Nothing in Common: Part 1

An unexpected romance.

Based on a post by Silver Fox Mullet. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

I was always one of the oldest girls in my class. The school put off your starting date if you were born after Dec 31st. And since my birthday was Feb 2nd, I started late. Yeah, Groundhog Day, and yes I've seen the movie, ha-ha very funny. There were always a few of us who were in that older-kid category. I was also taller than most of the other kids, except for a couple of the boys.

Being tall was a pain, especially as a girl, making me the butt of so many jokes and so much teasing. Once I got to High School and started playing sports, being tall became an asset. Girls volleyball, field hockey, swimming, basketball, and softball. Especially softball. I was good at most sports, but I was great at softball. I could pitch, I could field, I could run, and I could hit. Oh yeah, I could hit. You'd think they would have called me the Queen of Diamonds but no, that was my friend Marissa. She had the hooters for it. And she had the most solid armor-plated sports bra she could get to restrain those puppies. They called me Bat Girl, because I pounded so many homers over the fence. And unlike Marissa, I almost needed to pad my bra to look like I belonged on the team. And so they also called me 'Flat Girl'.

My mom told me I was 'just a late bloomer' but when Christmas rolled around and my 18th birthday loomed on the horizon I had to just admit that this was all I was ever gonna get. I consoled myself that I was *almost* a B cup, but the reality was that I didn't actually have to wear a bra. You know how self-image affects people, especially young people. When the teasing for being tall stopped, the teasing for being flat-chested began. I could not catch a break. So I was always a little body-shy because I was too tall and too flat.

Having a somewhat androgynous name didn't help either. My name is Devin Adams. Devin is kind of a girl's name, but also a boy's name. I used to get mistaken for a boy all the time, until I started wearing more 'girly' clothes and grew my hair out. So here I was, almost 18, and none of the guys were really interested in me. I was taller, faster, and stronger than most of them. Seems like very few of them wanted to go out with a girl who was better at sports than they were. And of course, no one wants to go out with Flat Girl.

When I got back to school after Christmas break, my friends were getting all excited for me. I was going to be eighteen in a month. A real milestone! Some of my less wholesome friends were urging me to get my V-card punched ASAP. Gotta get out there and enjoy life, right? Uh. No. No thanks, ladies. Sure, there were probably lots of guys, as in any of them, who would jump at the chance to hop in bed with me, simply because it was sex, and who cares how big her tits are if you've got your cock inside her? Gross. That kind of thing was not my style.

And what was my style? Under all the muscles and 4% body fat, I was a romantic at heart. I wanted to be a beautiful princess, with a big strong handsome man on my arm. That whole Prince Charming thing. That was my style. But none of the tall dark and handsome boys I knew could even come close to fitting the bill. And 'boys' was the correct term. Not 'men'. They were so juvenile. And of course I didn't exactly meet the spec for the beautiful princess role either. Too tall, too flat, and too strong.

The few boyfriends I'd had were all really tall. Seems like no one wanted to date a girl taller than they are. And of course they were jocks. Mostly basketball players. But they were also jerks. So none of those relationships ever amounted to anything. I figured that once I got to University there would be a better chance of finding someone nice I could hang around with and actually call a 'boyfriend'.

January passed quickly, along with first semester exams. And with my friends getting more and more excited about my birthday, and me getting more and more depressed about it, Marissa said they were going to throw a huge party for me. Ugh. No. The last three years I'd just had a few friends for a sleepover with pizza and gossip and trashy movies. When I gave them a hard No on the big party I got a lot of sad faces. Uncharacteristically, they seemed to let it go. I should have known something was up.

Spring semester

started Feb 1st, along with new classes. I needed one more science credit, and I had signed up for Biology. I would definitely need that if I went into sports medicine like I hoped. Day one was when lab partners were assigned. Yeah, assigned, not our choice. I ended up paired with some guy named Devin Young. Yup, Devin and Devin. Everyone but us thought it was funny. I heard his friends telling him he should be studying my biology, 'nudge-nudge; wink-wink'. I think that was some nerd movie reference I didn't get. The meaning was pretty clear, anyhow. I didn't hear his response but he turned red and seemed to be a little pissed at his friends.

I knew Devin sort of, peripherally. He was one of the art geeks, who never took any gym classes or played sports. We moved in very different circles. He seemed like a nice guy I guess, not one of those smelly creepy gamer nerds, thank goodness. One thing that struck me was his height. He was as tall as I was, but scrawny. And Devin wasn't as shy as some guys. He was; different. Most of the guys I knew fell into two categories: either Jock Alpha Males or Frightened Little Geeks.

The geeks were completely overwhelmed by girls, and wouldn't even make eye contact, let alone conversation. The jocks were awful, so full of themselves, wanting to be better, faster, and stronger than everyone else, and always trying to prove it. Devin seemed able to converse normally and wasn't all tongue-tied or anything. He also wasn't all full of himself, just kinda friendly and engaging. And it seemed like we both needed all the help we could get with this class, so I figured we would be working together a lot on it.

Friday was my birthday, and I got the usual squeals and hugs and silly gifts from my friends and teammates. At lunch there were only a couple of us at our usual table, which made me a little suspicious. And sure enough, a big group of people came in carrying a cake with lit candles on it. I'm sure the teachers would lose their shit over that, but they would not be lit for long, hopefully. They started singing 'Happy Birthday' as they came in. But I heard singing behind me too.

I turned to look back and saw a group of people with a stack of pizza boxes coming in from the back door. There were lit candles stuck in the top, and they were singing too. Happy Birthday Devin. But not to me, apparently, because as my friends came up with the cake, the other group stopped at the next table where Devin Young was sitting. I hadn't even noticed him there.

By now the entire Cafeteria was belting it out as the flaming cake and pizza boxes came to rest in front of me and Devin. He was looking at me now, so I smiled and said 'Happy Birthday', then turned to blow out my candles before the fire alarm went off. There was a lot of laughing and joking, mostly at our expense, because now everyone knew we had the same name, the same birthday, and the same kind of idiot friends.

I cut the cake and made sure I set a slice aside for Devin, because hey, who doesn't like birthday cake, right? A few minutes after everything calmed down and people were sitting down for lunch I got up and took a slice of cake over to Devin. "Happy Birthday." I said.

"Thanks. Same to you! Here." he said, as he handed me a paper plate with a slice of pizza on it.

I laughed and said "Pepperoni and mushroom, my favorite. Thanks. See you in Biology class."

"Yeah, see you there."

I took my slice of pizza back to my seat and ate it. I get so much exercise that a few extra calories never hurt. I finished eating my lunch, followed by a slice of cake. Marissa and my other friends were all over me about Devin, wanting to know who he was and how come they never knew there was someone who shared my birthday. Like I said, I recognized Devin, but hadn't had any interaction with him at all in the nearly 4 years we'd been going to the same school. That's High School social circles for you, like oil and water. When my friends found out we had not only the same birthday but the same name, and were lab partners, they got all excited that maybe I'd found my true love. We had so much in common, right? I squashed that pretty fast. We had nothing in common.

When I got to Biology class Devin wasn't there, but he slipped in just before the bell. "Cutting it close?" I asked him.

"Yeah, my friends are all going insane because I'm 18 now."

I was about to ask why when the teacher started his lecture. Mr. Stevens droned on and I took notes. Then I noticed that Devin was taking down different notes than I was. It was like, when I heard something 'noteworthy', I wrote it down and he didn't. And he wrote down stuff I didn't think was important. That was weird. When class ended I asked him about what he'd written. We only had a few minutes, so I asked if we could get together after school to compare notes.

"I have rehearsal for the spring play. Can we meet later?"

"Maybe. I have volleyball practice after school." I said.

"How about like 7 or 8?"

"Okay, 7 sounds fine. Where do you want to meet?"

"Is my house okay? Or yours, if you want?"

"Yours is fine." I told him.

We exchanged addresses and phone numbers and headed off to our next classes. It wasn't until halfway through next period that I realized I'd just given my number to a boy. And all the teen angst that that entailed. God forbid that Marissa ever found out I did that. She'd be totally goofy about me having a new boyfriend if she did. But it had just seemed so automatic and natural at the time, just so we could keep in touch about Biology class, right?

His House.

I rang the doorbell just before 7 and Devin let me in. Of course his mom wanted to know who was at the door, and she got a good laugh about us having the same name, but we didn't tell her about our common birthday. His Dad was watching a hockey game and all he said was 'Nice to meet you'.

So here I was, on my 18th birthday, studying. Doing homework. Like it was any other day. Which I suppose it was, kind of. Tomorrow night was my birthday party, the sleepover with my besties. I wondered why Devin wasn't doing anything special for his birthday tonight.

We sat down at the kitchen table to compare notes. It was weird the way he filtered stuff out of what Mr. Stevens said. Of course, he probably thought I was weird too, for what I wrote down. Between us I think we ended up with a really good set of notes to work from. And Devin was easy to talk to. He was a tall, scrawny guy with messy black hair and dark brown eyes. Okay, so tall, dark, but not quite handsome. Two out of three ain't bad I suppose.

When we were finishing up I remembered our conversation in Bio. "Hey, so what were your friends so crazy about, with you turning 18? You said they were going nuts or something?"

He laughed and said "Yeah, well, you can buy beer in Quebec at 18. So they want me to drive over to Hull and buy a few cases for them."

I laughed at that, "Good thing my friends haven't thought of that yet!"

"Yeah, well mine are all on my case because they think we should be a 'thing' since we have so much in common." he said with a frown.

"Oh no, mine too. I can't figure that. I mean, really, what do we have in common except our first names and birthdays?"

"Our favorite pizza?" he said. Devin opened his notebook and started writing headings on a blank page.

"Wait, you're making a list?!"

"You don't like lists?" he asked.

"Well, I don't really use them."

"How do keep track of stuff?"

"I dunno, I just do."

"Huh. Well, 'Lists' goes in the 'Differences' column then. And for common things, we both like the same pizza, have the same name, and same birthday. That's all I got so far. What's your favorite food, like besides pizza?" he asked.

"Chocolate ice cream. The good stuff, Chapman's. What about you?"

"Fresh caught fish."

"Bleah, fish is awful." I said, making a face. The smell and the taste always turned me off.

"Oh no, you've been eating the wrong fish. It's so perfect when it's fresh. Catch it, clean it, cook it, eat it, right on the shore. Nothing better."

"Okay, so you're like some kind of outdoors guy? You don't look it."

"I've been in Scouts since I was 5. I love hiking and camping, especially canoe tripping."

"Okay that's a difference for sure, I've never been camping in my life."

"What do you do for fun?"

"Sports. I'm playing or practicing almost every day."

"Wow, sounds like you got no time for anything else."

I laughed and said "Even work is sports. I work as a lifeguard, coach little league baseball, and referee kid's soccer."

"You really don't have much down time do you?"

"No, this is like the first night off I've had since Christmas break. What about you? You have a job after school?"

"Yeah, I work at the pharmacy, stocking shelves, working cash, retail stuff. Retail sucks. Not something I ever want to do again after this summer."

"So what are you looking at for a career?"

"I like the outdoors, and I like entertainment, so I was thinking of being something like an event coordinator. Weddings, concerts, theatre, exhibitions, eco-tours, that kind of stuff."

"Huh. I never knew that was a job. Does it pay well?"

"I think I'll do all right once I get established, but I'll probably be living at home for a few years. What about you? What kind of career are you looking at?"

"Sports medicine. I want to be a surgeon, a specialist for sports injuries, rehab stuff. Put people back together, help them walk again, help them live better."

"What about people like veterans and accident victims? Or is that different?"

"Yeah, actually, that too. I want to help people."

"That's cool. Sounds like a lot of work."

"Yeah, I'll be living at home a lot to keep my expenses down, just like you."

He laughed and said "That's one for the 'Common' column."

We talked, about all kinds of stuff. It was weird, he was so easy to talk to. He was in the Drama Club, and they were putting on a play this spring. Romeo And Juliet. That sounded cool, and I thought maybe I'd go see it. He played guitar too. Campfire songs mostly, he said. I can barely play a song on the radio. Zero talent. We talked about hobbies and stuff, and holy shit, he's an artist. Like a real artist. His parents got his stuff framed and it's hanging on the wall in their house. I looked around at some of it and Holy Shit, he's good. My art was always just stuck to the fridge till it faded away, none of it ever got framed.

All I did was sports and not much else. I did have a set of shelves that held all my awards. It was crammed with ribbons and medals and trophies from half a dozen sports. I showed Devin some pictures on my phone and his eyes practically bugged out.

Devin's list had way, way more differences than common stuff, that's for sure.

There was one thing I was curious about, so I asked him. "Hey, so why are you spending your 18th birthday, a Friday night, at home, studying? Why aren't you out partying with your friends or something?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Nuh-uh, I asked first. Spill."

He sighed and said "My friends' idea of a great party is marathon video games and junk food. I don't play video games, and any activity I might want to do, isn't something they'd be interested in. Right now, I'd rather be sitting in front of a camp fire, in the middle of nowhere."

"But it's winter! You'd freeze."

"Not with the right gear. Winter camping is awesome."

"Huh. I had you pegged as a gamer boy, but it seems like I was completely wrong."

"What about you? Why aren't you having a birthday party?"

"I am, tomorrow night. My friends are coming for a sleepover."

"Ah, Okay. So is that one of those junk food, trashy movies, and dissing guys kind of things?"

"Guilty on all counts."

"Ha-ha-ha. I just hope you won't be dissing me too much on account of my feeble birthday celebration."

"What do mean, 'feeble'? You're spending your birthday with me, which is anything but feeble I'll have you know." I stated airily. I tried desperately to keep a straight face, and watched as he tried to do the same. We both broke up into giggles at the same time. Yeah, feeble birthday party, this was it, right here.

His mom walked into the kitchen and said "Hey you two, it's getting late. You might want to think about packing this up."

Oh shit, it was 11:30 already, so I put away my notes and said goodnight. Devin was practically insisting that he drive me home instead of letting me walk in the cold. If it wasn't so late I'd have just walked, but my folks would probably be getting worried already. I was surprised my Mom hadn't texted me. So I relented, and Devin drove me home.

And another difference was that he had his own car. It was old, but it was his. "Saved up and bought it when I was 16;" he said. He fixed it up with help from his Dad and his Grandpa. Okay so there's another big difference; as I have zero mechanical aptitude, and he can rebuild a car. When we got to my house, I said good night and went inside. I looked back as I went in, and he was still there, waiting until I waved back at him.

Of course, my Mom was really interested in how my 'date' went. I told her it wasn't a date. But no matter what I told her she just smiled at me like she knew better. After the fiasco with the last guy I dated, I wasn't about to start going out with anyone until I went off to University in the fall. My mom told me I should invite Devin over here next time, so she could meet him. Mothers can be so infuriating.

My birthday party was the next day. Well, since it was a sleepover, call it two days. Marr, Janie, and Theresa came over and we hung out and talked and ate junk food. Coach would have a fit if she saw what we were eating. We streamed trash TV, and just generally wasted the night. And no, there were no sexy lesbian things going on, none of us were into girls. But sex as a topic of discussion did come up. A lot. And of course Marissa was completely fixated on the idea of me and Devin getting together.

I told her how different we were, how we had like zero common interests, apart from liking the same pizza and being too busy to date anyone. Marissa pounced on my words like a cat on a laser dot.

"How do you know so much about what he likes or dislikes?"

"Uh, well, we were talking last night. You know, just chatting about stuff."

"Oh really? Where did this happen?"

"His house. I was there to study, to go over our Biology notes."

"You were at his house? No! Tell us everything! What's he like?"

"Ugh. Marr, it was just school work, nothing happened, we have nothing in common."

"Okay then. Tell me something you two don't have in common then."

I was trapped by my own words and my friends were relentless. I started listing all the stuff I knew about Devin that was outside my experience, his art, camping, theatre, and so on. I was just trying to make a case for how incompatible we were, but my friends sat there with the biggest looks of shock I'd ever seen on their faces.

"What?" I said.

"Oh. My. God. You Do have a thing for him!" said Theresa.

"I do not!"

"Oh, honey, if you know that much about him after one date, then you got it bad!"

"It wasn

Jacob's Bed: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Sun, 02 Aug 2026 18:47:00 +0000

Jacob's Bed: Part 2

Bedding Arrangements

In 2 parts, based on the work of Bobbi R. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Leah looked at us both, Rachel still laying astride me. You look amazing together, she smiled. That's the first time I've watched two people fucking. It's fantastic.

I loved you being here, said her sister. It was like you really love us.

I do love you. Leah turned to me. Are you okay, darling Jake? Did you like that?'

I gave her a kiss. You know I did.

And you know I still love you, don't you?' Leah pressed.

Yes, I said, and I still love you, more than ever.

Ah, said Rachel, you two are totally amazing. I love you both.

What are you waiting for, darling? Leah said to me. Kiss her.

So with my softening cock still buried in her open cunt, I gently turned my head to my sister-in-law to me and gave her a long loving kiss.

Unlike in porn movies, we didn't immediately descend into an endless succession of sexual positions and have orgasm after orgasm until the end of the day. All three of us felt pretty satiated and exhausted. We lay back on the bed, me between the two sisters with my arm round each and their heads resting on my shoulders. Leah pulled the duvet half over us and within ten minutes we were all asleep.

I was the first to wake up. Rachel lay curled up with her back to me. Leah was lying half turned towards me. They were both dead to the world. I lay for a few minutes thinking about what had happened. Even then, I could hardly believe it. It seemed like a wonderful dream, a mad fantasy. Yet I could still remember the feeling of my cock in Rachel's cunt, the eagerness of Leah's lips on mine, her excited encouragement as I fucked her much younger sister. It had really happened, I kept telling myself.

It was only then that I started to have misgivings. Yes, it had happened; I had fucked my wife's sister. What now? Would everything change from now on? Would Leah still love me? Would she become jealous? Would it happen again? Rachel was almost 15 years younger than Leah; would I prefer fucking her to fucking my wife? I couldn't see how things would ever be the same again. I couldn't envisage a cozy menage a trois; that sort of thing only happened in porn fantasies. Yet there they were: two beautiful naked women lying next to me. I loved them both. I wanted them both. I wanted what had happened; to happen again. I wanted to fuck my wife and I wanted to fuck her sister. I wanted to fuck them both.

Almost perspiring in my state of confusion I lay rigid. I didn't dare wake them up in case all they had to say were regrets. I didn't want my dream shattered. In the end I crept from the bed, grabbed my bath robe and went into the kitchen. I didn't really have anything in mind, but something told me that what was needed was a quick dose of normality. What I didn't want was Leah waking up and thinking, Oh my god, this has all been a terrible mistake, what have I done? I certainly didn't want the kind of conversation that starts with, Darling, we have to talk. I didn't want to give her the chance to think and the only way I could think of to do that was with a dose of domesticity.

Half an hour later I entered the bedroom carrying a tray of supper. The sisters were still dozing, but sat up as soon as I put the tray on the bed.

What's this? smiled Leah.

Supper, I said needlessly. I thought you deserved it.

Rachel giggled. I suppose we need to keep our strength up.

Definitely, agreed Leah.

They looked sexily at me, completely without any expressions of guilt or regret, and I allowed myself a small feeling that things might be alright after all. Shamelessly they sat with their tits invitingly naked and we dug into our supper.

That night I went to bed early. I didn't want to have the conversation with Leah I knew we would have to have sooner or later. I was too confused and I didn't have the energy. It was a work day the following day, so when Leah came to bed she didn't expect any lovemaking. I pretended to be dozing, so all she did was say, Goodnight, lover, kiss me and turn over. I lay awake for a long time worrying about everything.

The next week passed fairly uneventfully. Whether Leah and Rachel talked over what had happened I didn't know, but I suspected they did; didn't they talk about everything? But when I was around, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement that the subject wouldn't be brought up. Rachel slept in her own room. Leah and I fucked a couple of times, as enjoyably and lovingly as ever but almost wordlessly. Somehow I got the feeling that she was waiting for me to start the conversation. Perhaps this fantasy 3-way was just a passing impulse? She didn't give the impression she regretted anything. If possible, she seemed even more loving than before. She lost no opportunity to touch and kiss me. It felt as if she were trying to reassure me that things were still good between us. Leah s respect for me had grown, so had her devotion.

Rachel, too, seemed to go out of her way to be affectionate, touching and kissing me quite openly, whether when Leah was around or when we were alone.

On the following Friday evening we were lounging in the living room wondering what to do.

Don't you want to go out? I asked Rachel. It's Friday.

I'd rather stay in and drink wine with you guys, she said. If that's okay with you.

Of course, smiled Leah. She got up. I'll open a bottle.

Later the three of us were cozily snuggled together on the sofa, the second bottle half empty on the coffee table in front of us. The unwritten rule was clear. I always sat between them.

This is the kind of Friday I like, murmured Rachel, resting her head on my shoulder.

Me too, said Leah, giving me a kiss. What about you, darling? How do you like having two beautiful women all to yourself?

Oh, I like it, I said carefully.

After what you did for us last weekend, she continued. This is it, I thought. This is the conversation I'd been dreading. We thought we should do something for you.

My mind went into overdrive. No recriminations? No regrets? No change of heart?

Don't look so worried, Rachel put in. We're not going to rape you.

Leah laughed. Not unless you want us to.

She put her hand on my thigh and gave me another kiss. I could taste wine. I felt her hand move to my cock. Instantly it started to grow.

That's what I like, she smiled. A cock that responds to me.

That's what I like too, said Rachel, her eyes fixed on her sister's hand.

Touch it, invited Leah. You won't mind, will you, Jake darling?'

Not at all, I said, not daring to disagree with anything being suggested.

I love to feel it growing hard under his jeans, Leah said to her sister.

Rachel put a tentative hand on my thigh. Leah took it and placed it where her own had been.

Can you feel it? she asked.

Oh yes, murmured Rachel. It feels really hard already.

That's because he's turned on. Aren't you, darling?'

Hmm, I agreed.

She started to move her sister's hand up and down my erection. Stroke it, she urged. He loves to have his cock stroked through his jeans.

Rachel started to stroke my cock. Leah let go of her hand and rested it on my abdomen. Don't tense up, darling, she smiled. Just relax and enjoy it.

If you insist, I said. It's difficult relaxing when a beautiful woman is stroking your cock, but I tried.

Rachel pressed a little harder and after a while tried to wrap her fingers around my shaft. I can't grip it properly, she complained.

In that case, grinned Leah, you'd better take it out. It could probably do with an airing. She gave me a long kiss while Rachel fiddled with my belt buckle and zip.

I felt the release as my cock was freed from the restraint of my jeans, then Rachel's hand finding its way into the gap of my boxers. I let out an involuntary gasp as her fingertips touched the flesh of my cock, then her fingers were firmly wrapped around it and she was pulling it out into the open air.

Leah ended our kiss and looked down at my lap, where my cock was standing in her sister's firm grip. Is that better, darling? she asked me.

Oh yes, I murmured.

Rachel looked at her sister. Show me what you do, she said. I want to learn to masturbate him as well as you do.

Okay, said my wife. She took my cock in her hand and, barely touching, stroked it slowly up and down. First you start really gently. And vary where you touch it, she added. Like this. For a while she concentrated on the shaft, gently stretching my skin as her hand went to the base of my cock, then releasing it as her hand travelled up again. She gently rubbed her fingertips over my crown and under the prepuce. He particularly loves the crown being played with, don't you, Jacob?'

Oh yes, I murmured.

Now you do it, urged Leah.

Rachel took my cock in her hand and Leah and I watched as she slowly played with it. She seemed fascinated by what she was doing, experimenting with stretching my foreskin, then playing her fingertips over my crown and gently opening and closing the slit. It feels lovely, she murmured, all hard and silky at the same time.

Leah gave me a long kiss as I felt the delicious sensations of Rachel's hand moving over my cock. Deep moans came from my throat.

Leah smiled at me. Is she doing it right, Jacob?'

Oh yes, I murmured.

You can grip it a bit harder now, Leah told her sister.

Like this? Rachel's hand gripped my cock more firmly and stroked me steadily from top to bottom and back again. I could feel the pleasure start to build.

Do you want Rachel to make you come, Jacob, asked Leah, or do you want to rest for a while?'

What Rachel was doing felt great, but I knew it usually took quite a time for me to come just from a hand-job. I suspected they both had other things in mind. I'm in your hands, I smiled at them. Do whatever you want.

Okay, said Leah. Let go for a bit, she told Rachel. Let it rest. I felt Rachel's hand leave my cock as Leah planted another long kiss on my lips. Then she turned my face towards Rachel and I felt Rachel's warm soft lips on my mouth. She moaned throatily as her tongue sought mine. For a while I was passed between them like a shared meal.

How do you like Rachel? asked Leah. Is she a good kisser?'

It must be because you're sisters, I grinned. I find it difficult to differentiate between you.

Leah looked down at my cock, still standing hard and proud. Ah, look at it, all lonely down there. I think Big Jake wants to be kissed too.

She bent her head and I felt her tongue on my crown. Then her lips closed round it.

Oh fuck, I breathed.

Rachel watched, her lips apart. Show me, Leah, she murmured. I want to learn how to suck his cock, too.

Okay. My wife held my cock out for her sister to take. Sit here on the coffee table and take him into both of your hands, gently. First, lick it all over. Slowly.

Rachel followed the instructions to the letter. I felt the exquisite sensations of her tongue sliding over the crown.

Don't take it in your mouth straightaway. Tease him. It drives him wild. Doesn't it, Jacob? She smiled wickedly up at me.

You should know, I said.

For a time, Rachel licked my cock, lingering over the crown and occasionally putting the tip of her tongue in the slit.

Lick under the crown, advised Leah. He loves that.

I felt Rachel's tongue under the rim of the crown, a really sensitive spot. It was exquisite. I heard myself moan in encouragement.

Is she doing it right, Jacob? Leah asked me. Does it feel good?'

Oh yes, I murmured.

Stand up, Jacob, she said. It'll be easier for Rachel.

I stood up and faced Rachel sitting on the low table in front of me, my cock at exactly the same level as her mouth. Leah eased my jeans and boxers down my legs and off my fee; then pulled my t-shirt over my head. Very nice, she said admiringly.

Hot, agreed Rachel.

The two women were still fully clothed, but it felt oddly arousing to be naked in front of them. Rachel leant forward and resumed her licking of my cock.

You can put it in your mouth now, Leah told her, standing beside me caressing my stomach.

I looked down and watched Rachel slide her mouth over my cock. Leah reached round and held the base. With her other hand she turned my face to hers and locked my mouth in a long passionate kiss. I felt Rachel's mouth moving slowly up and down my shaft. I moaned deep in my throat. Leah's tongue thrashed together with mine.

When she released me, she murmured. I love holding your cock as you're being sucked off, Jacob. It feels very hard.

I love you holding it too, I smiled.

She smiled back. You and Rachel look really hot together, with your cock in her mouth.

I could barely think with the sensations running through my body, so I just said, I love you, darling.

She kissed me. I love you too. I love watching you being sucked off by my lovely little sister.

Rachel was leaning forward, eagerly taking almost the full length of my cock in her mouth, savoring it, then pulling back and swirling her tongue and lips around the crown. One hand slipped round to my ass and held me while the other gently cupped and caressed my balls. Then Rachel s fingers rubbed under my sack while her thumb swirled around my sphincter. It drove me nuts.

Leah continued to hold my cock at the base. I felt hands and lips everywhere. I was dying with the exquisite sensations.

How do you like being sucked off by your sister-in-law while your wife watches? Leah asked, her eyes bright.

I love it, I moaned.

Are you close to coming?'

Soon, I murmured.

Let it happen, she urged. I want to see you come inside her mouth.

I had been wanting to do just that, but had been worried that Rachel might not have been prepared for it. But as soon as Leah spoke, Rachel thrust me deeper into her throat, as if wanting me to go ahead. I started to move my hips back and forth. My cock slid in and out of Rachel's mouth. I could feel the back of her throat at the deepest point, then the play of her tongue as she let it slide almost out into the open. At the same time, Leah moved her hand in sync with my movements, inasmuch as she could with most of my cock in Rachel's mouth. The two movements of hand and mouth were doing wonderful things to my cock. If they continued I knew I would soon be coming.

That feels so good, I moaned.

Rachel took me even deeper into her mouth and Leah locked my lips in another long kiss.

Enjoying yourself, Jacob? She breathed when she released my mouth.

You know I am.

I love to see you having pleasure, she murmured. I love you more than anything.

I love you too, I said, half-insensible with exquisite sensations.

She gave me a quick kiss, then moved to sit on the low table beside Rachel. I want to watch you come, she said, her eyes gleaming. She put an arm round her sister's shoulders and the other around my middle. I felt her hand on my ass cheek, gently pushing me forward, encouraging me to put my cock further into Rachel's mouth. The sight of her excited face next to her sister eagerly sucking my cock was enough to tip me over the edge. I felt my orgasm building.

I'm coming, I warned them.

Go on, urged my wife. Come in Rach's mouth. Let it happen.

I felt the first load climb into my cock and empty itself into Rachel's eager mouth. I half expected her to pull back, but instead she took a quick deep nostril breath and thrust my cock even deeper. Leah moved her hand from her sister's shoulder to under her jaw. I could feel it caressing the end of my cock through the skin of Rachel's face. I blasted again.

Keep coming, Jacob, urged Leah. Swallow his come, Rachel, she told her sister. He loves it when I swallow.

Rachel kept my cock in her mouth when I jerked a third time. I could feel her tongue exploring my slit and around the crown. I thought I might explode from sensations that were almost too exquisite to bear. I came again and again into her warm mouth. With the encouragement of Leah's hand, Rachel swallowed it all, keeping my cock deep in her mouth the whole time. Even as my cock began to soften, she still held it between her lips, though allowed more of it to come out. Gently she caressed it with her tongue, swallowing hard, to extract the last bits of jizz.

Oh fuck, that's so good, I murmured.

Leah stood up and put her arms around me. Happy, darling?'

I'll tell you, I said with a smile, when I've worked out where I am.

Do you like coming in Rach's mouth?'

Oh yes,' I emphasized

No regrets?' Leah pressed.

No. I was too satisfied and too exhausted to think of anything much.

I don't have any regrets either. Leah assured me.

That's a relief, I said, kissing her. I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't been here. It was such a turn-on having you beside me. You liked it too, didn't you?' I pleaded.

She kissed me long and hard. Of course I did. You know I love watching you come. I just love giving you pleasure and I knew you'd enjoy Rachel sucking you off. She smiled down at Rachel, who was slowly releasing my softening cock from her mouth, then nudged me gently. You should kiss her, Jacob, and say thank you.

I sank down on the sofa and took Rachel's beautiful face in my hands. Thank you. That was amazing.

Did I do it right? she asked. Did it feel good?'

For answer I kissed her sweet lips. I caught the faint taste of my salty jizz. Of course you did it right. You could raise a man from the dead.

Did you like it when I swallowed your come?' Rachel was beaming.

Of course. How did you like the taste?'

She made a face. I don't know. It all happened so quickly, I didn't have time to think about it. She smiled. I loved the feeling of your cock when you were coming though. It jerked all over the place, like you were having spasms or something.

I like that too, said Leah, sitting beside me. He felt entranced & helpless, didn't he? It's a real turn-on knowing you're doing that to him.

They both laughed and nudged me playfully.

Torturers, I said. I'm nothing but your plaything.

Rachel gave me a long kiss. Play, she laughed. Just what I like.

Leah turned my face to her and gave me a longer kiss, pushing me way back on the sofa. I was naked and half sitting, half lying between my two beautiful women. I was exhausted but happy. My cock lay limply against my thigh. Leah regarded it with amusement.

It looks like the batteries are flat.

When we had finished the second bottle of wine I felt a bit more lively. I offered to do to the girls what Rachel had done for me. You can't go to bed without orgasms.

Leah shook her head. Save your strength. You're going to be busy this weekend. She winked at Rachel and they both burst into laughter. But you can watch us masturbate if you like.

That sounded a treat. Okay, if you're sure. I said in a puzzled tone.

She pointed to the chair opposite the sofa. Sit over there, then you'll be able to see everything.

Despite my tiredness, my cock gave a little stir. I pictured some lesbian passion. Are you going to put on a show for me?

Leah shook her head. Not the kind of show you imagine, she laughed. We're sisters. We're not into each other that way. Sorry to disappoint you, but it'll be solo action only.

I wasn't disappointed. I'm very happy with that, I smiled. You know how much I love to see you bring yourself off.

Rachel pushed her jeans down to her feet and off. And now you'll be able to see me too, she smiled wickedly.

They slouched back on the sofa, facing me, with their feet up on the edge of the coffee table. Rachel kept her knickers on at first, and played with her nipples only through the cotton of her top. Even so, I could see she had beautiful tits, firm and sensual. More uninhibited than her sister, Leah immediately stripped off completely and spread her legs. I'm so horny, she explained, I could come any minute.

One of Rachel's hands caressed a tit while the other star

Jacob's Bed: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Sat, 01 Aug 2026 18:46:00 +0000

Jacob's Bed: Part 1

Jake s sister-in-law moves in.

In 2 parts, based on the work of Bobbi R. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

My wife is a wonderful woman. We married when I was thirty-six and she was thirty-five. We'd both been through first marriages that had gone sour and I knew almost from the moment I met her that this one was going to be for the rest my life. My first marriage had been a disaster: I wanted kids but she didn't; I was a romantic, she was more hard-headed; yet she was the one who went into fits of jealousy every time I so much as talked to another woman. The sex wasn't that great either. It couldn't last and we divorced after only five years.

Leah, on the other hand, was everything any man could want. But I won't go into details. There's nothing more boring than listening to a man listing his wife's virtues. Let's just say we laughed a lot. Oh, and the sex was amazing. Even after we'd been married a couple of years, we were still at it like rabbits, fucking at every opportunity. Even at the cinema, we'd be unable to keep our hands to ourselves. Halfway through the previews, I'd feel Leah's hand drifting to my crotch and I'd slip my hand beneath her coat and try to get under her skirt without being seen. If our row was empty we'd sometimes manage to bring each other off. Even then, we'd rush home and dive into our bed to fuck for a couple of hours. She could keep me hard even after I'd come and she seemed to be permanently on heat. For those first couple of years we were pretty inventive too. Leah wanted to try out all the positions in the book; and a few that weren't. Sometimes we'd end up giggling like a couple of schoolkids, but then lust would take over and soon we'd be fucking like crazy again.

Eventually, though, that phase passed and we settled into just doing what we liked instead of trying to rewrite the Kama Sutra every day. Leah particularly liked me to take her from behind, which always guaranteed an orgasm for her. That position was pretty good for me too, especially when she wanted me to fuck her in the ass, which she did on occasion. I never pushed her, but she knew I liked it. We never settled into a routine, but we certainly slowed down a bit. We both wanted to have kids, but we agreed we'd enjoy two or three years on our own first.

It didn't quite work out that way, though, because after only a couple of years, her sister Rachel moved in. Rachel was 22 and had just finished college. She was a lot younger than Leah, almost a mistake by their parents, who hadn't really planned on extending their family in their 40s. But when she arrived they were delighted, with the result she was spoilt rotten. It was amazing she turned out as level-headed as she did. Perhaps it was because she had such a good role model in her older sister, who she regarded almost as a third parent. Especially for the past 10 years, Leah was someone Rachel shared all her secrets with. Especially for the dating and romance advice. Rachel asked Leah all kinds of questions, and soon the two knew everything about each other.

Rachel s college years ended with a crushing breakup. She d given herself completely to a 3rd guy, who ended up dumping her right after commencement, then flew off to take an internship in Dubai.

Leah and I helped her move into our spare room and pretty soon we got used to having her around. She got a job at a local coffee shop and contributed what she could to the housekeeping. Leah and I had good jobs, so we didn't push her. She had her own circle of friends; no permanent boyfriend though; and divided her time between them and us, even though we were both nearly forty by then. She didn't seem to mind going out with us; she liked the same sort of films we did and enjoyed going out for meals, so long as we paid. What I'm trying to say is that we liked having her around. It was fun having a young person in the house. For one thing, it didn't make us feel so old.

I know what you're thinking, though. Didn't it cramp our sex life? The short answer is no. We carried on pretty much as before. Okay, we were a bit more careful when and where we fucked. We made sure we knew Rachel was going to be out for at least an hour before we fucked on the kitchen table, but we certainly didn't wait for her to be out of the house every time we wanted sex. If she was in her room and we fancied getting it on in front of the TV, we just closed the door. Rachel knew what we were doing, but she was polite enough not to burst in on us. We didn't kid ourselves she didn't know when we were fucking. Leah made enough noise; Rachel would have had to be deaf not to hear her.

It wasn't like it was discussed either; well, not at first. We didn't ask her permission, like, Rachel, we're just going for a fuck. Is that okay with you? She was mature enough to know that two people in love have sex. She was no virgin, which we knew because she'd told Leah. Between the two girls her sex life wasn't a secret. Sometimes I'd come into a room and they'd be giggling over something together. Often the object of their mirth would be some poor guy Rachel had been to bed with.

I swear he thought foreplay was something to do with golf, Rachel said once.

Leah said, Poor you, and they both laughed.

You two must have amazing sex, said Rachel, glancing at me.

Why do you say that? asked Leah.

Come on, laughed her sister. I can hear you all over the house.

Sorry, I said. We'll try and turn down the volume.

Rachel wouldn't have that. Don't on my account. It's great knowing you're still fucking. I feel quite jealous.

That night when we were in our huge high-framed canopy bed, Leah wanted to fuck face-to-face. I want to watch your face when you're inside me, she said.

Okay, I said. I love watching Leah s ass twerk as she rides my cock. Our solid wood-frame canopy has inlaid mirrors, which sort of let us watch a porno of each other, while we fuck each other.

After she played with my cock for a while, and her cunt was slipping down onto my turgid shaft, we lay face to face and she looked me in the eye.

Well? I smiled. What do you see?'

A guy who's got his cock just where he wants it to be, she laughed.

Right, I agreed.

Does it feel good? she asked.

You bet. I grinned.

What do you see? Leah asked as she saw my gaze diverted to the mirrored canopy.

An awesome sexy ass twerking on my cock!

So what are you thinking about? she smiled.

Isn't it obvious?' I said.

Tell me anyway. She insisted

You, of course, I said, and the feeling of your cunt round my cock.

Liar. You're thinking of Rachel.

It was such a preposterous idea, I actually laughed. That is so untrue, it doesn't even deserve an answer.

She smiled a superior kind of smile. I can see it in your eyes.

What, you can see little pictures of her in my eyeballs?'

Almost. She laughed. Don't be scared of admitting it. I'd be surprised if you weren't thinking of her. She's beautiful.

She gave my cock a squeeze with her vaginal muscles and a jolt of pleasure ran through me.

I can't think of anything when you do that. I chuckled.

Don't change the subject, she said. I just want you to tell me the truth. Go on, admit you find her attractive.

Okay, she's attractive, I agreed. But that doesn't mean I'm thinking of her when I'm fucking you.

No, but you are, she insisted. You're thinking of her firm young tits and imagining what her cunt feels like.

Even though she was smiling, I still thought it better to keep denying it. Jealousy had been one of the reasons my first marriage had broken up and I wasn't about to let the same thing happen with us.

I am not, I said, as simply and straightforwardly as I could. The trouble is, she was almost right. True, I hadn't been thinking of Rachel when we'd first started fucking, but after Leah had brought her into the conversation, I couldn't get the sight of her out of my head.

She's got a fantastic figure, hasn't she? She was teasing, I knew, and finding my discomfort highly amusing.

I said nothing. But the thought ran through my head that she must have guessed something about what I was thinking from the fact my cock was still as hard as a rock. You sure seem to want me to start fantasizing about Rachel, don t you?

Don't look so worried, darling, she said, taking my face in her hands and giving me a long passionate kiss. I'm not saying you'd rather be fucking her instead of me. I know you love me and love fucking me. But I've seen how you look at her and I know you fancy her.

I started to protest but she stopped me with another kiss.

No, don't deny it. You know I hate people lying. I mean it when I say I don't mind. I really don't. I know you find me beautiful too.

I do, I said quickly. You know I do. For good measure I accompanied my words with a couple of slow thrusts of my cock.

Oh, that feels lovely, darling, she said, closing her eyes for a moment. But don't make me come yet. I want us to fuck for a long time.

Okay by me, I said.

So it really is alright that you fancy Rachel. she repeated. I'm not jealous of her. She's my sister and I love her. I feel; I don't know; somehow proud of the fact I've got a sister who is beautiful and who my husband fancies. Does that make sense?'

If you say so, I said.

So just admit you're thinking of her, she smiled.

I looked hard at her and she looked back at me, half serious, half amused. I could only see honesty reflected back at me. And then we can fuck? I asked.

Then we can fuck, she said.

And you really don't mind if I fancy her?'

I really don't mind.

In fact, you'd quite like it if I did?' I implored some more

Yes, she said. I'd like it.

Okay, I said. I fancy her.

And you're thinking of her, she insisted.

Well, it's a bit difficult not to be thinking of her, I laughed, after you insisted that we talked so much about her. But I don't wish I was fucking her instead of you.

I know, she said. Now you can fuck me. And you can think of her as much as you like, so long as you keep that cock good and hard and give me a good orgasm.

So I fucked her for a long time. And after a while I turned her over and she went on her hands and knees and I fucked her from behind and I thought of my cock buried in her cunt and I thought of my cock buried in her sister's cunt and somehow it made my thrusts more urgent or powerful or something and then Leah was moaning and crying out and coming and then I was coming into her warm delicious cunt and it was a really lovely loving fuck and we ended up hugging and saying how much we loved each other and kissing a lot until we fell asleep.

The next morning I went down to the kitchen and found Rachel eating a piece of toast. She grinned at me. Hello, stud.

Then she flung her arms round me and gave me a big kiss on the cheek.

What was that for? I asked, a bit stunned.

I love you, brother-in-law, she said.

Er, yeah?'

For making my sister so happy, she added by way of explanation. I've never seen her like this. She looks like the cat that got the cream; every minute of every day. You're obviously a really special guy. I have close to 10 years of multiple failed relationships, and my sister won the love lottery.

Thanks, I muttered, not really knowing how to reply. I try.

I love being around you two. You make the world seem a better place.

That's a lot to live up to, I said. Could it be just that we love each other?'

It's not just that. It's that you're so; into each other. The way you look at each other, it's like you're always wanting to fuck each other's brains out.

That obvious, huh? I said. I could feel myself blushing a bit.

Don't be embarrassed. I like it. It's hot. Listening to Leah come last night I brought myself off twice.

Oh dear, I said, blushing a bit deeper. I hope you didn't hear what we were talking about.

I didn't have a glass pressed to the wall, she laughed, if that's what you're worried about. She looked at her watch and headed for the door. But don't worry, she added with a mischievous grin, Leah tells me everything. Then she was gone.

So did you tell her? I asked Leah a couple of nights later.

Did I tell who what? she asked, looking up from where she was licking my cock.

Did you tell Rachel what we were talking about the other night? You know, about her and you and me?'

Of course, she said, I tell her everything.

Oh great, I said. So now she thinks I fancy her.

Not more than you fancy me, I hope, she said, pretending to be cross.

Of course not, I said quickly. But that's bad enough.

Don't be silly, she said, giving my cock a long kiss. She was flattered. She said it was exciting to be fancied.

I'm not sure I'll be able to look at her again.

Why not? It does wonders for her self-confidence knowing an older man thinks she's hot.

I never said she's hot.

Look, Jacob, she may act all mature and worldly-wise, but like all young girls, she worries about her looks, her personality, how she appears to other people, men especially. She's still finding herself. And I think; and she agrees; that being around us; you especially; is giving her confidence, helping her to grow up and be herself.

Like parents? I suggested, though I didn't like the sound of that.

No, not authority figures, she said. More like close friends. The closest friends you can imagine. People you trust absolutely. People you'd die for. People who are always there for you. That's how she sees us. And that's how I see her. And how I hope you do too.

I try, I said. But you've been there her whole life. I'm pretty late on the scene.

Don't do yourself down, she said, playfully hitting me. She already worships you.

How do you know?

Because she's told me.

That night it was my turn to make some noise, as I cried out when I came in her mouth. I offered to eat her, but she said she wanted to make herself come for a change, so I just held her and kissed her while she masturbated. She looked lovely when she came. I tried not to think of how Rachel might look when she masturbated.

Over the next few days and weeks I gradually got used to the idea of Rachel knowing that I fancied her. I got used to the knowing grins and winks from her; and from Leah; and the unexpected hugs and kisses. And if I expected any complaints from Leah that her sister was getting a bit too friendly, they never came. On the contrary she seemed to love how well we were all getting on. Often we'd all three end up in a kind of group hug, laughing like drains and swearing how much we loved each other.

By this time Rachel had a sort-of boyfriend, though they didn't seem to behave much like a couple. They always went out in a crowd and he never came round to the house. Then one day I came home from work to find Leah and Rachel sitting on the sofa, Rachel in tears and in her sister's arms.

The boyfriend broke up with her, said Leah.

Idiot, I said. Obviously he has no taste in women.

Thank you, sniffed Rachel.

Make us a pot of tea, please, Jacob, said Leah.

So we sat and drank tea and gradually Rachel stopped crying. Then I suggested we all go down the local pub and have a couple of beers.

And we can criticize all the useless men we've known, said Leah.

And I'll praise the two wonderful women, I said. Which was a bit cheesy, but it made them laugh, so that was alright.

We got a bit drunk and Rachel had one or two wobbly moments, but mostly we just laughed a lot. At home Rachel hugged and kissed us both and announced she was going to bed. Try not to make too much noise, you two, she added with a sad smile. You'll only make me jealous.

For the next two or three weeks Rachel was a bit subdued around the house. She didn't go out much and when we asked her why, she said, That lot bore me. They're so immature. I'd rather be with you two.

Though that was fine by me; what man wouldn't like having two sexy women to come home to? it seemed to worry Leah a little.

I think Rachel is missing something, she said one night when I was kissing her cunt.

I looked up. Like what?'

Well, this for a start, she said.

Well, I began, but couldn't think of anything to say.

You know she masturbates practically every night to make her go to sleep.

Does she? The image of Rachel playing furiously with her cunt immediately put another inch on my cock.

It's not healthy. She needs a good fucking.

Well, she's beautiful and sexy, I said. Men must be queuing up.

They probably are, she agreed. The problem is, since that idiot ditched her, she's not interested.

Can't you persuade her not all men are like him?'

I've tried, she said with a smile. The trouble is the only example I can think of is you.

That is a problem, I agreed, given I'm in love with you. I bent to her cunt and gently put my lips to her clit.

Oh yes, she sighed.

After a while she started moaning in the way she always did to tell me I was in the right spot. Her lips were swollen and slippery. She tasted delicious. Then she said, Maybe you should fuck her.

At first I didn't think I could have heard her right. After all, I had my head between her thighs. What?'

You know exactly what to do to make a woman feel good about herself, she said. Her face had the dreamy expression it wore when she knew she was going to come; maybe in a few minutes, maybe in half an hour, but definitely.

Maybe you should fuck her. Leah smiled.

No, I said firmly. Don't even joke about it.

Don't talk, she said. Go back to what you were doing.

Dutifully I returned to her cunt. After a minute she was softly moaning again. I tried to put her suggestion out of my mind. She was joking. She was just aroused from my sucking her clit. She was letting her cunt do the talking. She didn't really mean it. Somehow the thought of me fucking her sister turned her on.

Imagine how she'd feel if you were doing this to her, she murmured. She'd love you forever.

Maybe she would, I thought, and maybe she wouldn't. What's certain is that I was married to Leah and I loved her and I wasn't about to jeopardize that by fucking her sister. Even if it was at her suggestion.

Of course, once the idea was in my head I couldn't get it out. Even as I was sucking Leah to a thundering orgasm, I imagined it was Rachel's young cunt I was sucking, even though I'd never seen it. The picture made me more energetic than usual. It must have had an effect on Leah, because she made enough noise to wake the dead.

Afterwards, when we were falling asleep in each other's arms, she murmured. That was amazing, Jacob. I wish Rachel could experience it too.

For some days after, Leah said nothing more about it. And gradually my imagination stopped working overtime. I stopped thinking about Rachel naked and in my arms and my cock in her cunt; Fortunately Leah was still as horny as usual, perhaps even more than usual, so I was still getting plenty of great sex. I assumed poor Rachel was still masturbating herself to sleep. But what could I do about that?

Sunday morning came and Leah and I lay half-asleep under the duvet and tried to think of a reason to get up. There came a soft knock on the door.

Are you decent? Rachel called from the hallway.

Leah stirred. Just about.

Rachel poked her head round the door. Either of you guys want a cup of tea?'

It's only half past eight, muttered Leah. It's too early for tea.

Rachel stood in a t-shirt that barely covered her ass. Sorry, I didn't realize.

Don't stand there shivering. Get in. And because my side of the bed was nearest to the door, Leah held back my side of the duvet. I quickly put my hand on it to stop her revealing the fact I was naked.

Thanks, grinned Rachel. It is a bit chilly.

She climbed in and, although our bed was huge and had plenty of room for three, I edged closer to Leah.

Don't hog the bed, Jacob, Leah complained.

Sorry, said Rachel. Am I crowding you guys?'

Conception Rock: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Fri, 31 Jul 2026 19:28:00 +0000

Conception Rock: Part 2

Sunday Sharing: New Ideas For Intimacy

By AlexanderT listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Becky & Eddie were weekend guests at the lakehouse of Jane & Pete, who are retired former neighbors. An alcohol-induced discussion of the previous night led to showing a video album of glamour photos Pete had taken of Jane. Becky summoned the courage to accept Pete s offer to do her own photo album. Having finished the swimsuit portion, Becky was now getting ready for the boudoir portion.

Boudoir Beauty

The ladies led the way and at the house &headed for the master bedroom, Jane telling Pete and Eddie to go away until called. Pete and Eddie went to kitchen and had a beer.

The ladies seemed to have been gone a long time and Pete thought maybe Becky was having second thoughts and Jane was trying to help her decide.

Then there was a call, from down the hallway; "Bring the camera."

Jane was by the door as the guys entered, and Becky was lying on the center of the bed on her side, her head supported by her arm, her tits sagging, her upper leg thrown over, her knee touching the black satin sheet, her sex covered.

Pete smiled, "Oh, yeah." and began taking shots. click, click, click. He moved to each side, taking more pics. Becky s soft smile and intense gaze was ever-present in each frame.

She turned over on to her back, spread her legs and Eddie gasped. Becky s cunt was shaved clean. Becky looked to Eddie for a moment to assess his approval. It was obvious he loved it, both by his beaming smile, and the hand he moved down to his shorts. Eddie also knew why it had taken so long to get ready. His dreamy lust for her bare cunt was redirected by the movements of Pete & the click, click, click.

"Now up on your knees, arms out like you're reaching for Eddie." Pete continued in his adrenalin-rich state. click, click, click. Pete knew he needed to keep things moving just to keep himself from getting too enamored by the raw sexuality on display. Capturing this event is more important than enjoying the view on display before him.

"Alright. Now, Eddie, it's your turn, Pete announced.

Eddie shook his head, "I don't know anything about cameras."

"No, no. Take off your pants. Becky s waiting for you to join here, Pete directed him.

Eddie looked from Becky to Jane and back to Becky. It was as if you were watching a tennis match, but finally loosened his belt and pushed down his jeans and his shorts. He had a decent erection and had no reason to be embarrassed. Pete s voice and tone took on the hypnotic effect of mind control over his subjects. His confidence took over the decision-making when the young couple needed to be led.

Eddie climbed buck naked, over to between Becky s legs. She sat up, smiling with a glow on her face as her Eddie approached.

Pete s direction resumed; "Okay, Becky; slowly wrap your hands around it lovingly." click, click, click. "Now massage the balls." click, click, click "And kiss it." click, click, click.

"Enough?" or do you want to continue, Jane asked Becky.

Becky shook her head, "Everything."

Pete looked at Jane and she shrugged.

"Okay, keep going. Becky, show him what your oral skills can do. When you're ready, Eddie, pull out and shoot on her face and tits."

Pete sat on the sofa by the window and kept taking an occasional pic. Jane came over and kissed Pete s neck as she sat by him, enjoying the two lovers on their bed. They watched Becky give Eddie a blow job. Eddie was upright, kneeling, and Becky rested her weight on one extended arm while her other hand guided Eddie s cock and balls to her mouth. Eddie idly fondling her breasts as his body advanced to the impending eruption. Then Eddie groaned, pulled out and shot all over Becky as she reclined down to the bed with her mouth still open to catch some of his load, click click click. Eddie lay down beside her. She smiled while her adoring eyes looked deeply into his. and they kissed and held each other.

Pete came over to the bed after a quiet minute, "Move away for a minute, Eddie." He did and Becky returned her intense gaze back to the camera. Pete took closeup shots of the spots all over Becky's face, shoulders and tits. click, click, click. And her contented, lascivious smile, happy with herself.

Pete didn't have to prompt her for the next series.. Becky rolled over on to her stomach, her head down, her knees tucked, and her ass in the air. Pete took shots from several angles of her legs spread, click, click, click. Becky reached back and spread her cheeks and Pete was surprised to see an anal plug in place, click, click, click. And so was Eddie.

Eddie got in position and massaged her ass cheeks and placed his penis into her cunt while he pulled out the plug and tossed it aside. Jane came over and poured a dollop of lubricating jelly in the crease. Eddie used his thumb to rub the little star with the jelly and Pete took the shots. click, click, click. The thumb slowly entered her anus and she gasped. After a minute her anus relaxed and Eddie pulled his cock away from her cunt. When Becky was relaxed, Eddie gently stroked her anus a bit as he worked his thumb outward. As his thumb exited he pushed his coated cock in and Becky squealed.

One last series of clicks was taken and Pete moved a switch & carefully set his camera on the corner of the bureau.

And with that, Pete and Jane left the bedroom. Pete was excited and as soon as they had closed the door her hugged Jane and kissed her.

She giggled, "Oh god! I didn t want to leave that show, but I need to fuck you now! But they're in our bed."

"Which leaves their bed empty. And we can watch the video later." He pulled her across the hall into the different bedroom. Jane was hornier than a teenage girl at a boy band concert. Within an hour Pete was out. The adrenalin-driven photo session was gone, and Jane took all the remaining energy.

Later Pete woke to find the bed empty. He found Jane and Becky in the kitchen, talking & preparing dinner.

"About time. Jane giggled. There's the steaks. Put them on the grill."

Pete grabbed a beer and the steaks and went outside. Eddie was out on the dock, watching the sunset. He saw Pete and came back, grinning. "That's the first time we've ever done that."

"What? Had your pictures taken? Or had someone watch?"

"No, Well, yeah, that too. No, that's the first time I've ever done her in back."

Pete shrugged, "I think she liked it, don t you?"

"Oh, yeah. We did it again after you left."

After dinner, they talked about taking the photos and how they might use them.

Jane smiled, "I like to view them after we make love. Pete recovers a lot faster. It s sort of an intermission for me while Pete s cock takes a break"

Becky laughed, "We've never had that problem, have we?"

Pete smiled, envying their youth.

Surprise Guest

Becky was again the first to announce she was ready to go to bed and led Eddie off to their room. Pete and Jane soon followed.

As Jane lay between Pete s legs, stroking and kissing his cock, she asked, "Did you enjoy taking pictures of Becky?"

"Of course I did. She has a great body."

Jane s face took on a mischievous grin. She got up & straddled him, guiding him into her wet cunt. She leaned forward, pushing a nipple into his mouth. " You like titties! Did you want to suck her titties?"

He didn't have to answer, his mouth was full.

She whispered in his ear; "And she tasted good when I shaved her. You're going to love it."

She rode him for a few minutes while she watched him ponder the meaning of her last comment. Then she yelled excitedly, "YES," though he didn't think she'd had an orgasm.

And the door opened into the moonlit bedroom.

Becky was naked as she came over by the bed and the ladies kissed. Pete had no idea what was happening as Jane lifted off him, stood and led Becky onto the bed

. "Is he still awake?" Becky whispered, with a giggle.

"Yes, and he's waiting for you. Enjoy!

Jane turned, bent down and kissed Pete, "I love you," and he watched her tight rear as she left the room.

Becky climbed on top of him, her tits bouncing as she felt his rigid cock in her hand. It looked big in the photos, but now it felt even larger in her hand. She inserted him between her legs. She eased down slowly. "Oh, wow. You're really big. I hope Eddie gets bigger as he gets older, too."

Pete wasn't going to burst her bubble. He just enjoyed her riding him, her tits swaying above him. Pete was grinning like Christmas morning as he fondled the full tits that adorned Becky s buxom body. He squished and pinched them. He swung and plopped them. He lifted and moved them to various positions and amounts of cleavage. He pulled her down so that he could take a nipple in his mouth. He moved one hand on her ass, his fingers in her crack, massaging her hole then moved the fingers of his other hand, rubbed her clit.

Becky beamed, "I'm so glad Jane let me have you for tonight. I think I'm going to....Oh, yes... I'm....Yes. That's the spot. Right there. Yes." She began shaking and he held on to her as she lay on top him. Her breathing slowed, returning to normal. And then she was asleep, snoring. He rolled her on to her side and snuggled against her.

In the light of the bedside lamp, he awoke to her sucking his cock. I ve got this new love for doggy style. Do you know of any hard cock I can make use of? When he was hard, she got on her knees. Pete got behind her and easily entered her. She was making sounds of pleasure and then whispered, "Do me in the ass, please?"

There was nothing Pete wanted more. He got the lube from the bedside table and prepared her. He was pleased to see she d recovered from Eddie taking her ass, twice (at least). Even so, she was still tight and knowing he was larger than Eddie, he went slow, stopping at intervals.

But she wanted more, kept pushing, demanding, until he was slamming into her harder and deeper, with his finger reached around to rub her clit, until blast-off, he shot again and again, deep inside her. It was enough for her and she began shaking. He held on to her as he softened and slipped out. He lay down and she lay half on top of him, her leg across his thigh, her shaved mound pressing his hip. They slept, until he awoke her while licking her bald cunt. She erupted in a loud ecstasy. They made love twice more before morning.

When he woke, the bed was empty. He dressed and went down for coffee.

After breakfast, Pete brought in his lap top and plugged in the camera's chip and a memory stick. After about 5 minutes he said; "Okay, Eddie, Watch me." At the camera chip, he opened the files and transferred them to the memory stick. He checked to make sure they were on the memory stick and returned to the chip, and erased it. He ejected the memory stick and handed it to Eddie. "Now you have the only copy of the album. You may use it as you wish."

"Thanks. I appreciate it." Eddie said, blushing a bit.

"It's great to watch after making love. Pete counseled. It'll help you recover & get back in the game"

Becky laughed, "Oh, I'm looking forward to that."

Visiting The Rock

After they finished packing the bags in the car, Becky said, "Before we leave, I want to hike up the hill and take in the lake view one more time."

Jane shook her head, "Go ahead. After last night, I'm sore." She winked to Eddie.

Pete offered, "I'll go with you."

"Yeah, you go, Becky I'll stay here and make sure we packed everything," offered Eddie.

As they started up the hill, Becky took Pete's hand. "This has been a great weekend. I've never enjoyed sex so much."

"Enjoyed?"

She laughed, "Never had so many orgasms. Probably as many as I've had in the last year."

They reached the rock where they could look down at the house, the pier and the lake. The rock was a little high and he had to lift her up. Becky sat down on the rock and Pete stood next to it "Do you bring Jane up here?"

"Sure."

"Have you made love to her here?"

He smiled, "Many times."

"Is that why you have a tent in your shorts, remembering?" She reached over and rubbed his shorts.

"No, I was remembering making love to you all night, and imagining what it would be like here." He pulled her to the edge next to him and they kissed. He lifted her sweatshirt and tossed it on the rock behind them. She removed her bra and got up off the rock. She reached down and unfastened her shorts and pushed them down. She turned, spread the sweatshirt on the rock and bent forward, face down with her legs dangling over the side of the rock.

Pete admired her creamy cheeks as he lowered his shorts. He spread her cheeks and ran his erection up and down her crease, rubbing her from clit to her ass hole.

"Do it, damn it."

The rock was just the right height. She was wet, and from the night before, she was loose. He grabbed her hips and easily pushed into her. He began slowly stroking in and out.

She was crying and whispering encouragement until. "Oh. Oh. Faster. Faster." He quickened his strokes and she began slamming back against him She froze, "Yes. Yes. Yes." But Pete didn't stop. He kept pumping, rubbing his thumb across her other hole as she came down.

"Yes, do it."

He pushed his thumb in and was surprised it was still greasy from last night. After only a few strokes, she was shaking again. As she recovered from that, "Now do it, for real."

"What?"

"Fuck me back there."

"You want me in your ass?"

"Yes, damn it. Fuck my ass."

He withdrew from her warmth and placed the tip at her hole.

"Yes. Yes."

He pushed in.

"Oh, damn you're big. Go slow."

In, out a little, in a little more until he was buried deep inside her. Her hands were holding her cheeks apart so he could go deeper. She clinched hard as her orgasm hit. He plowed into her again and again but accidently slipped out. Her ass was too tight from the orgasm and he was so close to his own climax. He could contain himself no longer. He slipped deep into her cunt and began shooting deep inside her and it was enough to set her off again.

He kept pumping, finally slipping out. He stepped back, pulled up his pants and then pulled her off the rock and into his arms. They kissed as his hand toyed with her nipples. He whispered, "I'm glad you came."

She kissed him and smiled. "Many times." She put on her shorts and put on her bra and sweatshirt. They embraced and kissed. Becky pulled away, "Oh, look. Eddie and Jane are on the patio."

They watched as Eddie and Jane kissed, then Jane dropped to her knees and took out Eddie's penis and began sucking.

Betty gasped, "Do you think they know we can see them?"

Pete nodded his head. "Oh, they know. They're doing it for our benefit. They want us to know that we should make the most of this last moment."

They watched Jane stand, push down her shorts and bend over a patio chair as Eddie entered her from behind.

Pete stood behind Becky, her body pressed tight as the two below made love. Pete ran his hand under Becky's sweatshirt and caressed her breasts. Becky had never seen her man with another woman. The reality of this swap meet was now visually confirmed. She asked; "Doesn't it bother you to see my Eddie doing your Jane?"

Pete took a breath, "Yes, but I accept it if it's the price for getting to make love to you." She turned and they kissed.

"Do you think he's doing her ass?"

"From here, we can't tell, but it doesn't make any difference, Eddie asked. They're both enjoying it." Are you okay with our new situations?

I trust you and Jane. Otherwise, no, I d never be doing any of this Becky said. And Eddie & I would not have benefitted from all you and Jane have openly shared with us, making my relationship with Eddie so much deeper. Does that make sense?

Eddie is your man, Becky. He s a good man. Jane is a good woman. You can trust us, Pete pledged.

Eddie appeared to be going faster, then went rigid. After a minute, he fell back and sat in another lounge chair. Jane came over and sat in his lap and they kissed.

The show seemed to be over so Becky and Pete made their way down the hill. On the way, Pete handed Becky a memory stick.

Her brow wrinkled, "What's this?"

"A copy of your album."

"I thought you gave it to Eddie?"

"Eddie has a copy that the two of

Conception Rock: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Thu, 30 Jul 2026 19:27:00 +0000

Conception Rock: Part 1

Two Couples Enjoy Labor Day.

By AlexanderT listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Becky sighed, "Jane, that was great. Just the thing after a long trip."

Eddie agreed, "Oh, yeah. A cold beer and a good sandwich is what we needed."

"Can I get you another?" asked Pete.

Eddie chugged the last of his first beer, "Yes, sir. Don't mind if I do."

They talked for a few minutes but it was obvious Becky and Eddie were nodding off. When Eddie finished his beer, Jane showed them to their room.

As Jane and Pete climbed into bed, she snuggled against him. "You think they're making love?"

"I doubt it. They were awfully tired."

"Maybe Becky was faking so she could get him into bed."

"Could be. I remember being in a strange bed always turned you on. Like you were making love to a stranger."

She pulled his hand to her breast, "Still does."

Becky and Eddie had moved into the house next door a couple of years before Jane and Pete retired. It was great having newlyweds next door, watching their loving commitment to each other. Becky was far from home, having moved to be with Eddie in his new job and appreciated having Jane as a friend.

Pete enjoyed watching the two of them together, Jane with the longer, trimmer body and Becky with her buxom figure & padding. Becky's blond hair was usually in a ponytail, the look of youth. Jane preferred her dark hair short, almost manly.

Eddie, as a new homeowner, called on Pete often for advice. Eddie was in good shape, usually beat Pete in racquetball at the Y. And Eddie had a youthful head of straw like blond hair that Pete, with his gray sideburns envied.

When Pete and Jane retired early because of a corporate merger and special pension offer, they moved to the lake. Pete couldn't tell who was more upset by the separation, Jane or Becky. This labor day was their first weekend together since the move.

Saturday Adventures

In the morning, Jane and Becky went into the little town to do some shopping. Pete took Eddie out on the dock and they fished. And drank beer. Fortunately, no fish interrupted them.

When the ladies returned, Pete fired up the grill and when the coals were just right, he put on some foil wrapped vegetables. A few minutes later, he added two steaks, and a few minutes after that, two more. Jane came out with plates and Becky followed with a bowl of salad. Pete cleared the grill and a late lunch was served.

"Now that was wonderful," trilled Becky. "I've never had a steak that tasted so good."

Pete pounded his chest, "Me man. Me make fire. Cook meat good."

Eddie laughed, "No, it was more than that. Good cuts, well seasoned and cooked just enough." Pete had cooked his and Eddie's medium rare, but had left the other two fillets on a bit longer for the ladies.

They sat for a while, basking in full bellies, the guys with a beer buzz, the ladies sipping wine.

Becky stood, stretching like a cat, her hands above her head, pushing out her ample breasts. They were all watching and Pete felt a stirring in his groin and wondered if it affected Eddie. Looking at the smile on Jane's face, he wondered if it affected her.

Becky was not fat, but she was well padded; nice breasts and fanny. Her blond hair fell to just below her shoulders and Pete couldn't help but wonder what it would look like spread on a pillow. She was shorter than Jane, a little over five foot, but when she smiled, she was six foot tall.

Jane caught him looking and grinned. Jane was no slouch. She had nice tits, a tight ass and a wicked smile that went all the way to her brown eyes.

Jane asked, "Nap time?"

Becky shook her head, "No, I'm going for a walk. See if I can work off some of that delicious meal."

Pete stood, "Good idea. I'll go with you. Jane? Eddie?"

Jane shook her head, "No, not me. Go ahead, I'll clean up here."

"And I'll help," said Eddie.

Pete hesitated. Did 'nap time' mean she wanted Pete to take her to bed and make love to her or was it just Pete's dirty mind? He was leaving Jane, his beautiful wife with Eddie and Eddie was good looking. All of six foot with wavy brown hair and a solid body. Pete wasn't surprised that he snagged Betty. Pete often wondered how he was able to get Jane's attention. His hair was short from the ROTC days and he was a skinny running back. Maybe she was pleased with the way he made love to her, worshiping her body. He hoped it was enough.

Out of the house, Becky said, "You lead the way. It's your forest."

"Not all of it. But, yeah, a lot of it." He led her to a path that went up above the house.

"I love your place. Did you pick it?"

"No, it was a compromise. I wanted to live on top of a mountain when we retired: Jane wanted to live at the beach. We found this place on the lake "

"Hey, it's in the mountains."

He shook his head, "But not on top."

"Does Jane like it?"

"Sorta. She sits out on the dock all times of the day. And I have even found her out there in the dark and the early morning."

He led her up a little slope and directed her to large rock. He lifted her up on to the rock and they sat and Becky looked down. "Wow, this is beautiful. There's the house, the dock, the lake."

"We're still on my property. I wanted to build up here, but Jane wanted to be close to the water. Maybe I'll build me a shelter up here so I can get away, like Jane does."

Becky peered harder. "I don't see them."

"From here you can see the grand room and your room upstairs."

"Oh? You weren't up here this morning were you?"

"No. Was there something to see?"

She grinned, "There might have been."

Pete thought about the effect of strange beds.

She frowned, "What do you think they're doing?"

Pete exhaled, "Worries me, too. Jane said she wanted to take a nap. When that happens in the afternoon, it usually means she's horny."

"But you trust her, don't you?"

He hesitated, "I trust that she loves me."

"You don't think she's faithful?"

"No, but I have no proof. And I don't have any reason to complain. When I was on the road, I wasn't always faithful and I was never sure she didn't have lovers from time to time. We've been to parties where she's disappeared for a short while, but she always leaves with me. I've never caught her, but I've had my suspicions."

Now Becky seemed worried, "You don't think she'll seduce Eddie, do you?"

"I don't know. Maybe she'll just show him her album."

"What album?"

"I was an avid photographer in school. I had taken 35mm pictures of Jane but nothing risqu . I didn't want to have some developer ogling her. When I got my first digital, I took more pictures. It started with her posing, but progressed to bikini's, then topless, then bare. We took some of her kissing my penis, even some of me between her legs."

"So, there are naked pictures of you, too?"

"Not really. All you ever see of me is my penis." He laughed, "But then, that may be my best part. Anyway, it could be anybody with a penis."

Becky shook her head, "Let's head back."

Headed back down the hill, she said, "Maybe we'll catch them."

"I doubt it. If they are screwing when we get there, they'll probably be in our bedroom. They'll hear us and Eddie will go back to your room and pretend to be napping. Jane will be in the shower."

As they neared the house, Pete suggested, "When we go in, grab Eddie and give him a blow job. You'll be able to taste Jane in they were screwing.

The house was quiet and they went up the stairs. Becky slipped into their room and Pete went to Jane's. She was lying in bed, reading. Fresh from the shower.

He sat on the side of the bed and kissed her. "I thought you were sleepy?"

"Oh, you know how that goes. I came up here, got a shower, lay down and couldn't go to sleep." She rolled over and snuggled close to him. "And now I don't have to."

That evening they had burgers and beer on the dock, listening to quiet sounds of nature and watched the world go dark.

When they adjourned to the house, Becky came over to Pete and whispered. "He tasted different."

"Oh, did he taste good?"

She smiled, "Yes."

"You should taste the real thing. Jane is delicious."

She pushed him away.

Show & Tell

Though it was only chilly, very mild, Pete started the fireplace and they sat around drinking beer and wine, talking, saying nothing.

Until Becky asked, "Could you show us your album?"

Jane's brow furrowed, "You told her?"

"Yeah. I thought maybe she could get Eddie to take some photos of her."

Eddie, not knowing what they were talking about, asked, "What photos?"

"I told Becky about some photos I took of Jane."

Becky smiled, "Nudes."

Eddie laughed, "That I'd like to see."

"Well, after you've taken some of Becky, maybe we can swap."

Becky looked from Jane to Eddie, "Do you have your camera here?"

"I've got a couple."

"Why don't you show us your photos and then we can take some of me?"

Pete looked over, "Jane, they're your pictures. It's up to you."

She was non committal, "Yeah, whatever you want to do."

Pete retrieved a memory stick from his office and plugged it in to the TV. As it came up, Pete looked at Jane. "You've seen all these. Anytime you want to stop, just tell me."

They were all stills. Pete had tried video, but a hand held camera didn't work very well when you're having sex. He had some videos, but didn't want to show them.

The first shot was of Jane in a silver lame evening dress, her hair up and away from her neck. She was half turned to the camera so that her breasts were in profile. It was long sleeved and covered her shoulders. But the front plunged almost to her waist, an excellent view of her cleavage. The skirt went to the floor but was slit up to her waist.

It was Becky that voiced the observation of both the guys. "Damn that looks good. But you couldn't wear any undies. I bet the guys were all over you."

Pete said, "Oh yeah. Everyone wanted to dance with her. Even some of the women."

Jane smiled, "It was fun."

"But Harry was especially attentive. Even his wife noticed. Said a VP shouldn't act like that. She and I went looking for you and couldn't find you."

Jane shrugged, "Probably in one of the dining rooms."

Or one of the unused meeting rooms, thought Pete.

There were two more of the dance and Harry was in both of them.

The next series was of Jane on the dock in tee shirt and shorts, her hair wind blown. She was side on to the camera and her hand was on her stomach, pulling the tee shirt snug, her nipples popping out.

Becky whistled, "You do make a tee shirt look good. And where did you find such short shorts? I can see your cheeks."

In the next shots, they were on the dock and she was in a barely there bikini. Becky didn't say a word. There was nothing to say. Jane's cheeks were completely on display as were almost all of her breasts.

Pete sighed, "And that's enough."

Jane shook her head. "No, go ahead and show them the rest of them."

The next, they were still on the dock, but now she was topless. Her tits were medium sized with dark brown circles and nipples. In the photos, her hands caressed them, lifted them, tweaked them. The next group, her hair was loose and her bottom was gone. When the photo was taken, she had a Brazilian trim that called attention to her cleft. She turned left and right, posing.

Pete looked at Eddie, wondering if he was imagining what she might taste like, feel like. Or perhaps, remembering.

Pete drew a breath, "Enough."

Jane quickly demanded. "No, show the rest."

The next was of Jane naked in a king sized bed. Her skin appeared even more pale against the gray sheets. She was on her side, propped on one arm, smiling at the camera, her top leg folded so that her knee touched the sheet, covering her sex, and making her hips appear even wider. A woman waiting to be made love to. Next, she was on her back, her legs spread, her hands cupping her breasts. Then one hand between her legs.

Then Jane was kneeling, looking up at the camera, her arms out stretched in invitation.

"I can stop there," said Pete.

Jane was emphatic. "No."

Jane had both hands wrapped around a large penis, smiling up at the owner, which everyone assumed was Pete. Then it was in her mouth, one hand on his balls. The series finished with globs of white on her face, her tits, her lips.

And then she was on her back, her legs spread again, but his time the penis was between her legs, between her lips, the tip teasing. And then it disappeared inside her. Pete heard Becky gasp.

The next series began with Jane on her knees, her head on a pillow, the penis approaching her. Then entering. And Jane parted her cheeks, showing her anus before a thumb began rubbing. Then pushed in.

Becky gave a little squeak. Then the penis was at the opening vacated by the thumb. And pushed in. Becky cried,"No."

The final shots were of Jane's face, a woman who had been well fucked.

Pete turned off the TV. "I'm going to have another beer. How about it, Eddie?"

But Becky interrupted, "No, we don't need any more. I've got to get to bed. I need my beauty sleep if you're going to take my pictures tomorrow. Come on, Eddie."

Eddie shrugged and smiled as he followed her from the room.

Pete grinned as they left. He looked over at Jane, "She must have been really sleepy?"

"You know better. She liked the photos. She couldn't wait to get him in bed."

"I have to agree. Come here." He pulled her into his lap and they kissed. "I don't blame her. You have one sexy, beautiful body."

She grinned, "You still love this old lady?"

"Old? You're younger than I am."

"Huh. I saw you staring at her titties, bigger than mine."

"Have yours ever been not big enough for me to make love to them?"

She stood and pulled him to his feet. She grinned, "She's right, we need to go to bed."

Naked, they slipped into bed together. Jane snuggled close to Pete and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Me, sure. Are you okay. The pictures were of you."

"Yeah, but no one has seen me naked since we got married but you and the doctor, and she doesn't count." She was quiet for a minute, "Have you shown the photos to anyone else?"

"No, they're your photos. I would never do that without asking your permission. Have you shown them to anybody?"

"No, of course not." Then she giggled, "Eddie liked them."

"So did Becky." Pete observed

"Really?" Jane was shocked, then curious.

"Why do you think she was so ready to go to bed. Pete teased. I think if you had asked her to go to bed with you, she would have gone."

"Maybe. But I think what turned her on most, were the pictures of you."

"I wasn't in the pictures." Pete insisted.

She reached down and caressed him. "Part of you was. And it was the really good part."

He was already semi hard from the conversation, but her stroking soon had him solid. He rolled over on top her, spread her legs and easily entered her.

She looked up and smiled, "And tomorrow you get to take pictures of Becky. Maybe she'll get naked for you."

"You want to see her naked, too, don't you, Jane?

"Hmm." Was all she could say, as her body peaked in orgasm.

Sunday Photography

In the morning, Pete and Jane, in tee shirts and shorts, were having coffee when Becky and Eddie came in, Eddie in a tee shirt and jeans, Becky in one of Jane's short satin robes. The two younger lovers appeared a bit worn. Jane poured coffee and began making pancakes.

They talked about the photoshoot. Becky wanted to do the tee shirt and shorts, and the bikini, but wasn't sure about topless.

They finished breakfa

His Desired Girl: Part 3

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Wed, 29 Jul 2026 19:40:00 +0000

His Desired Girl: Part 3

Finding an ideal Emily?

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

"How; how big am I gonna get?" she asked, trying and failing to hide her arousal.

Jessica smiled. "Why don't we ask Jacob?" she said, turning to the doorway.

He couldn't do it.

"I said, why don't we ask Jacob?"

He couldn't go in there. He could taste Emily's essence in the air. There was no way for him to hide his erection, and he had no chance of calming himself down until he was away from her. It took all of his concentration just to keep himself from cumming in his pants.

"Oh, come out here, you big baby."

Before he knew what was happening, he was gripped by the arm and pulled bodily into the bathroom.

"Jacob?!" Emily yelped.

Luckily he managed to close his eyes before catching a glimpse of her. The taste had become stronger, and he could feel his arousal increasing. He didn't know what he would do if he saw her now, and he didn't want to risk anything.

After a couple failed efforts, he managed to croak out weak "Hey."

"; Are you okay?" she asked.

"I; " His cock twitched involuntarily, and he turned away in embarrassment. There was no way she didn't see that.

"He's like that," Mrs. Tenner said in a lecturing tone, "because your sexual fluids give off a strong pheromone that specifically targets your partner."

"What?!"

"They also act as an extremely potent aphrodisiac when ingested, with the added affect of increasing your partner's sexual stamina, virility," she paused, smirking, "and endowment."

Well, that explained quite a few things.

He heard Emily's breathing quicken. "B-by endowment, you mean; "

"It makes his cock and balls grow."

"Oh!" Emily moaned.

It was too much. After hearing that breathtaking sound, Jacob's eyes opened against his will, and he was left reeling at the sight in front of him.

She was a goddess. Her tits were massive, perfectly shaped teardrops that jiggled hypnotically with her every movement. They were just as wide as her expansive hips, obscuring her entire torso, including her upper arms. Two dark stains covered the front of the bathrobe that she was wearing, and he could clearly see the protrusion of her nipples. She was huge; but if she was growing to match his deepest fantasy, then-

I'm a freak.

"I'm sorry." He turned away, quietly noting with shame that he hadn't even looked at her face. "It's my fault you're like this. I should leave before it gets any worse."

"No! Please don't go!" Emily said, grabbing his hand. She emitted a small, pleasured gasp when her hand met his, and it was all he could do to keep himself from turning around and; and;

"It's not just that, Emily!" His breathing quickened. "I want; I want to;"

"What do you want to do, Jacob?" Mrs. Tenner asked, not unkindly.

This was it. Maybe this would scare her off of him, like he deserved. He turned back to the angel holding his hand and made sure to look her square in the eyes.

"I want to fuck you, Emily! I want to fuck you so hard you can't even think straight! I want to; I want to make your boobs so big that you can barely hold them up! I; Um!"

Before he could finish, he suddenly found her tongue in his mouth and the incredible softness of her body pressing against his in a tight embrace. All thoughts of letting her go evaporated from his mind as he tasted the sweetness of her tongue. Her kiss was frantic, and he couldn't help but reciprocate, letting his own tongue dart around hers as he marveled at the softness of her thick, luscious lips.

He brought his arms around her and held her even more tightly to his chest, and he could feel her milk surge as her tits squeezed against him. They had escaped from the confines of the bathrobe, and he could feel her nipples poking him as they soaked the front of his shirt.

His hands traveled down her back until they were at her ass. He lifted what little of the bathrobe that actually covered her massive backside and roughly groped her. His hands sunk deeply into the soft flesh of her cheeks, their curves much too big to fit fully in his grip. He could feel them jiggle around his fingers with each desperate squeeze.

Keeping his mouth to hers, he gently pushed her down onto the floor. He untied the belt from her bathrobe and pulled it fully open, letting him see her in all her glory. Her thong was still covering her pussy, so he ripped it off, snapping the strings easily. He pressed a finger to her lower lips while his thumb teased her clit. The nub was as big as a cherry, and it was obviously very sensitive. Emily writhed on the floor, her enormous tits swaying as milk sprayed in every direction. After a couple of seconds her body tensed in orgasm. She laid there twitching for a full minute before relaxing.

While Emily's breathing slowed, he brought the hand he was pleasuring her with to his mouth, once again savoring the sweet taste of her juices. He swallowed and felt a familiar tingle in his crotch. He pulled down his pants and watched in awe as his phallus slowly grew with each passing second while his balls ballooned at an even faster pace. When the tingling finally ceased, his cock was around nine inches long, while his testicles were the size of tennis balls.

"Jacob."

He looked down to find Emily staring up at him. She was squeezing her tits, sending arcs of milk into the air.

"I need your cock, Jacob." Her right hand abandoned her tit and snaked its way down to her pussy, her fingers spreading herself open in invitation. "Please."

He quickly took off his shirt and got on his knees, pressing the head of his cock to Emily's dripping sex.

"I'll just; Hmm! let you two have your alone time."

Both Jacob and Emily turned their heads to see Jessica Tenner calmly leaning against the wall. The muscled woman casually pulled her hand from under her skirt and left the bathroom; winking at them before closing the door.

"I need your cock, Michael! Please!" they heard her laugh from behind the door.

Emily blushed at her mother's interruption, and she saw that Jacob was doing the same. They had been so caught up in each other that they forgot she was even there.

"My family's crazy, isn't it?" she asked.

Jacob gulped, lifting his cock and letting it slide onto Emily's belly. It twitched, and she could feel a bit of precum ooze onto her.

"Yeah, but I'm not complaining," he replied. He was visibly trying to calm himself down, but it didn't look like it was working.

He moved his hand over her left tit, his palm hovering over her nipple. Smiling at him, she hefted her tit upward, pressing it into his hand. She let out a soft moan as he gripped tightly, milk spurting between his fingers.

"Is this really okay?" He asked, panting. "I was being serious when I said how big you were going to get."

"And I want it!" Emily said. "I want to grow for you! I can feel it. My tits getting bigger and bigger; heavier and heavier with milk. It feels amazing!"

She squeezed her right tit, noticing that she could now only barely reach her nipple.

"It's starting to get harder to milk myself, though." She smiled at him. "That'll have to be your job from now on. Milking me."

She stopped squeezing and lifted her other tit toward him. He grabbed onto it and squeezed both her nipples at the same time, making her sigh in pleasure. She reached both arms under her tits and fondled his cock. He let out a loud groan, and whatever he was doing to hold himself back failed completely. He lunged at her tit, his mouth latching onto her nipple. She felt a tight pull on her teat, and her milk began to flow more than ever.

As he suckled her tit, she felt his cock pulse in her hands. It wasn't just her juices that made him grow! His manhood was lengthening by a few millimeters with each swallow of milk.

"Stop!" she said, gently pushing him away from her tit.

He blinked. "Shit! I'm sorry! It tasted so good, and you're so fucking sexy, and I just;"

She pulled him into a short kiss.

"It's okay," she whispered as their lips parted. "I just want you inside me while I'm being milked." She firmly stroked his cock. "I'm not the only one getting bigger today, after all."

He smiled and spread open her thighs. Once again, he pressed the head of his cock to her entrance. She closed her eyes as he entered her, savoring the sensations of a real penis. She couldn't believe how much better it felt compared to her toys.

When Jacob's pelvis met hers, he had gone completely still, save for the repeated twitching of his cock inside of her. Opening her eyes, Emily began giggling at the look of pure concentration on Jacob's face.

"Fuck!" he said, his lips curling upwards into a strained smile. "Stop laughing. I'm gonna;"

He gave a low grunt as his body tensed, but before Emily could fully appreciate his O face, her own orgasm exploded into existence, taking her completely by surprise. Letting out a short, pleasured squeal, she felt her pussy tighten around his cock just before his cum exploded into her. She felt an intense, pleasurable warmth in her tits, and for a split second they visibly expanded outward, jiggling at the force of the growth. Her pussy loosened and constricted in perfect sync with Jacob's spasms, and with each load of cum her tits expanded just a tiny bit more.

Her orgasm faded just after Jacob's, her insides squeezing him one last time for any leftover cum. She looked up and saw him staring at nothing.

"Holy shit," he panted. "Succubi are amazing."

"I know right?! I'm even bigger now!"

"That's not what I was; oh."

He looked down at her, wide-eyed, and ran his hands over her tits, teasing her leaking nipples.

"You didn't notice?" Emily asked. "Your cum was making them grow."

She felt Jacob's still-erect cock twitch inside her.

"I was a bit distracted," he said, blushing.

"Well pay attention next time! But now it's your turn to get bigger. Let's switch!"

"Whoa!"

Jacob braced himself as he tumbled onto his back and Emily's full; and at this point, rather substantial; weight fell on top of him. While he checked for any signs of a concussion, Emily sat up into a cowgirl position. Even sitting up straight, her boobs were big enough to rest comfortably over his chest.

She leaned down slightly, pushing her tits closer to his face until they completely filled his vision. Pushing one tit to the side, she teased his lips with a thick, dripping nipple.

"Open wide."

Eager to comply, he opened his mouth and began to suck on her nipple. With every mouthful of creamy nectar he gulped down, he felt his nethers tingle and slowly inch further into Emily's body. She was slowly getting tighter and tighter as her milk increased his girth, and he had to spread his legs to accommodate his rapidly growing balls.

Emily pulled away her left tit and replaced it with her right. Realizing that she'd feel better if neither of her tits were being neglected, he grabbed the tit he had previously been nursing and milked it with his hand. Emily groaned and began to bounce on his cock, making her tits jiggle wildly on top of him while her plush ass continually slapped on his thighs.

Jacob somehow held out for several minutes, even as Emily's pace quickened and her moans grew louder. He couldn't believe how high she was getting with each bounce without his cock slipping out of her. By this point his legs were completely spread, and he felt his balls resting on the ground beneath him.

As he swallowed another mouthful of her milk, Emily fell down on his cock one final time and breathed out a long, high-pitched moan. Her pussy tightened hard on his cock, and he felt that impossible suction that had blown his mind the first time he came inside of her. He tried to hold on a little longer, but apparently Emily's body took offense to that and milked him even harder.

He bucked his hips, and the moment he shot his first load into her, Emily screamed in euphoria.

He felt the weight on his head suddenly increase as the nipple in his mouth gushed with so much milk that he couldn't possibly swallow it all, but even that wasn't enough to distract from what Emily was doing to his cock.

Her insides were shivering so hard that it almost felt like they were vibrating! That, added with the intense contractions and suction, served to make him cum even harder. Each wave of pleasure seemed to last for a lifetime, crescendoing into a torrent of cum that Emily's body quickly absorbed. Her tits expanded in bursts, as if they were massive water balloons and each load of cum was like a short blast of water from a faucet, jiggling wildly with every surge of growth. He was eventually completely buried under them, and all he could see was the undersides of her expanding tits.

He had no idea how long this went on for, and by the time their orgasms finally ended, Jacob was seeing stars. When he finally recovered; and separated the two enormous tits that were on top of him; he was met with a blissed-out Emily. She had gone completely limp, her eyes unfocused and her body twitching at random intervals while she repeatedly let out soft, broken mewling noises.

"Emily?" he asked, waving his hand in front of her face. "You okay?"

She mumbled incoherently.

"Huh?"

She was slowly coming back, though she still looked a bit pleasure-drunk. "I think; I just had two orgasms at once," she said dazedly.

"Somehow, I can believe that."

They stayed like that for a few moments, catching their breath.

"Think you can stand up?" Jacob asked, somewhat recovered.

Emily smiled. "I think so."

Jacob moaned as he felt her lift off of his cock. His face became buried in her chest as she leaned over him, and after a surprisingly long moment of stimulation, his phallus slipped out of her. He felt his cock become enveloped in her cleavage as she dragged her tits down his body, and as her soft skin slid down his thighs, his attention was immediately focused on the thing that was emerging from between her cleavage.

"Uh; Emily?"

"Yeah?"

"How the hell did this thing fit inside you?"

Jacob heard her gasp, though didn't see what kind of face she was making due to the massive, pulsing rod that was dominating his view. At this size, he wasn't even sure if 'hung like a horse' was a strong enough comparison. His cock looked to be over a foot and a half long! At its widest point, he could just barely wrap one hand around half of his shaft. His hands traveled downward and rested on his melon-sized balls. He could only imagine how difficult it was going to be to walk with those things swinging between his legs.

He looked up to find Emily staring at him; or at least a certain part of him; in awe, and he couldn't help but do the same to her.

Emily's tits were now his ideal size. Sitting as she was, they were big enough to rest fully onto the floor, each one the size of a large beach ball. Her plump areolas were the size of dinner plates, topped off with nipples as large as his fist. They were leaking heavily, and the sound of milk splashing on the floor dominated the relative silence of the bathroom.

Jacob turned toward the door and saw that the puddle of milk was already soaking into the carpet in the next room. "We should, uh, probably do something about your milk before we start flooding the house."

"What?" Emily followed his gaze. "Oh shit!"

Emily tried to quickly get up, presumably to get some towels to clean up their mess, but her tits weren't even a foot off the ground before she pitched forward and fell on top of him.

"Oof!"

He gasped, feeling Emily's face press against the underside of his shaft. He could feel her warm breaths quickening as she laid there, and after a few still moments, he felt her tongue slide over his skin.

"S-seriously, though, let's get you into the tub for now, at least."

Emily jolted out of her trance. "R-right!"

She was a bit more careful this time, slowly lifting herself off the floor. When she stood at full height, her tits hung all the way down to her knees.

"This; huff; is gonna take some getting used to."

She said it with a smile, but Jacob couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at what his desires had done to her. Even disregarding the balance issue, she surely wouldn't be able to lift those things for an extended period of time. Honestly, he was surprised that she could stand up at all.

"Let me help you." Jacob stood, his cock bouncing up and down against his chest. He had to pull his massive balls out from between his legs; he'd rather not have to waddle.

"Well, at least in some ways we're in the same boat," he said, walking up to her with his thighs pressed together. He blushed as his cock pushed into her cleavage. "There's no way I'm ever going to be able to hide this amount of equipment."

"Fair point," she giggled, looking down at the pink dome poking out from the top off her tits.

Jacob bent down and grabbed the bottom of Emily's tits, lifting them up as best he could. They awkwardly shimmied toward the huge, circular tub and carefully stepped into it. Needless to say, there was a fair amount of jiggling involved.

Jacob lowered Emily's tits and stepped back; milk sloshing around his feet.

"Were you; trying to fill the tub earlier?"

"Yep!" A teasing smile graced her face. "Time to get back to it. Lay down."

He silently complied, lying down in the spacious tub with his back propped against the sloped wall. Emily turned around, giving him a phenomenal view of her backside. After being so enamored with her tits, he had almost forgotten how breathtaking her enlarged ass and thighs were as well.

He wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon, though, since she lowered herself into his lap, pressing her soft cheeks into his pelvis. A cornucopia of pleasurable sensations surrounded his penis as it slid between her thighs, up against her stomach, and finally into her cleavage. The tub was only barely wide enough to contain her massive tits.

"Milk me."

Jacob spread his arms wide and hugged her tits from behind, happy to oblige.

Emily sighed happily as Jacob milked her. He had fallen into a soothing rhythm, firmly squeezing her tits together for several seconds at a time before letting off for a brief moment and squeezing again. Unfortunately, her size prevented him from reaching her nipples in their current position, but this method was nice nonetheless. She maneuvered her arms underneath her tits and grabbed his cock, giggling as she felt him twitch underneath her. The base of his shaft was pressed tightly against her pussy, and his balls were no doubt drenched in both her milk and her fluids.

She looked down and frowned. The head of his cock poked out of her cleavage, but it was too low to comfortably bring to her mouth. Deciding on the obvious solution, she rubbed at her slit in order to thoroughly lubricate her fingers; only lingering on her big, sensitive clit for a few pleasurable seconds. She leaned her head back on Jacob's shoulder, and met his eyes. He was looking down at her with that wonderful look of; love, awe?; that she had quickly grown to adore. Satisfied with the wetness of her hand, she pulled it from underneath her tits and held it in front of his mouth.

His cock twitched as he let out a little laugh. "In for a penny, huh?"

He tilted his head forward, letting her fingers enter his mouth. He moaned the moment her wetness met his tongue, and the pressure he was exerting on her tits increased dramati

His Desired Girl: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Tue, 28 Jul 2026 19:38:00 +0000

His Desired Girl: Part 2

Is Jacob Transforming Emily?

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

Emily stood in the bathroom stall, frowning at the stain in the back of her skirt.

She had already been getting wet from the furtive glances she had been receiving all day; Hannah's shocked expression in first period was particularly stimulating; but seeing Jacob just stare at her in obvious arousal had her absolutely drenched. This was easily the wettest she'd ever gotten in public. As it was, she might have to spend next period in the bathroom to wait for her skirt to dry out.

Also, both to her dismay and excitement, she was growing again. It seemed to only be focused on her tits this time, and her bra was already starting to feel quite constricting. If she wasn't in public she would've been thrilled. The possibility of getting big enough to burst out of a 32L bra was awesome, but she didn't want it to happen while people were around. Okay, maybe a small part of her did want it to, but in the end her ego outmatched her id on this occasion.

She wouldn't mind it happening in front of Jacob, though. He obviously had taken a liking to her new tits. Or had he? One minute he was staring at them, and the next he suddenly looked angry and turned away. He did the same thing when he looked at her ass, too. Did she go too far with the teasing? She honestly couldn't help herself when he was so obviously enraptured by her body. He had seemed to like what she was doing; until he didn't.

Her phone vibrated in her bag. It was a text from Jacob.

can you meet me behind the school?

Her heart skipped a beat. Maybe he would try asking her out again? Maybe he'd even; no, probably not, but a girl could hope. She texted him back saying she was coming.

Just before she left the stall, though, she heard other people enter the bathroom.

"I can't believe that little slut got a boob job," Hannah Burton said.

"It had to be more than that. Didn't you see her ass?" replied her friend. Wasn't her name April or something?

A third girl spoke up. "I'm telling you, she'd have to get, like, full-on plastic surgery to get that kind of body, and no one can heal from that in just one weekend. It was probably growth hormones or something."

"If that kind of thing existed, then why would anyone get fake tits?" April(?) asked sarcastically.

Hannah huffed. "Either way, it's fucking gross."

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind having bigger boobs, but there's such a thing as too big."

Hannah laughed. "And the stupid cow is flaunting it all around like she wants to suck every dick in the school. Fucking whore."

Their conversation went on like that until they eventually left the bathroom. Emily looked down at herself. Is that what everyone thought? That she had gotten plastic surgery or took some kind of drug to get like this? It; it shouldn't have bothered her, but it did. She'd been getting so proud of her body; she didn't like the thought of anyone thinking it was fake.

Was that why Jacob had gotten angry all of the sudden? That he thought she was fake?

She suddenly wasn't feeling very confident about meeting him behind the school, but she had to go. It was the only way to find out how he felt about her.

After the bell for third period rang, she left the bathroom. No one was in the hallways, but she held her bag behind her just in case. She went out the back exit of the school and saw Jacob in the distance. The sight of him sent another shiver through her womanhood, and to her surprise she felt a warm, tingling sensation around her nipples as well. That was new.

He was facing away from her, leaning his side on the brick wall of the school, his heel bouncing rapidly on the ground. Emily walked up behind him, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Hey."

He flinched and started to turn around, but then he stopped himself.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you out here," he said. His shoulders were tense, and there was a quality to his tone that she couldn't quite place.

He made to leave.

"Wait!"

Emily grabbed his hand, and they both froze. The moment her skin touched his, she felt the tingling in her nipples intensify and radiate throughout the entirety of her tits. She let out a little whine of pleasure as she felt her bra snap, the cups falling away slightly so that her nipples were exposed to the inside of her shirt. She felt something warm and wet trickle down the front of her boobs.

Unaware of her situation, Jacob pulled his hand away and turned.

"Emily, I; " He trailed off, staring wide-eyed at her tits.

A hand was on her shoulder before she could say anything, pushing her back to the wall. Jacob pulled in close, his other arm slamming on the wall behind her. His chest was pressing against her tits, and she could feel his rapid, shallow breathing.

Was he going to do it? She felt wetness dripping down the inside of her thighs. He was so close that she had to look up to see his face. She tilted her head, ready for him to take her, but seeing his expression immediately dampened her mood.

Pure anguish. Something was terribly wrong, but she didn't know what.

"J-Jacob?"

He pulled away from her as if she were on fire, and she thought she could see his eyes glistening before he turned away.

"I," his voice wavered. "I need to go. I'm sorry."

He quickly went back inside, and she had no idea what to do.

What the fuck was wrong with him?!

Jacob stalked down the hallways, wiping at his eyes as his horror transformed into self-directed rage. The moment he sent that text he knew it was the wrong decision. What was he going to say? "Hey Emily, I know you said you didn't want to go out with me last week, but now you're even hotter than before so can I fuck you?" Fucking idiot.

When she held his hand, he began to think that maybe she would hear him out; that what he was going to ask her wasn't completely fucking stupid, but then he saw her and she was;

She was beyond sexy, beyond beautiful; her angelic face and full, parted lips a picture of feminine pleasure, her tits exploding from the confines of her bra, her nipples forming giant tents in her shirt as they soaked the fabric in leaking breast milk, revealing beautifully large, pink areolas. There was no single word good enough to describe her.

And then he fucking assaulted her! Fuck!

He turned a corner and nearly crashed into someone coming from the opposite direction.

"Watch where you're going, dumba; pifft!"

It was Hannah. Of course. He was starting to think this day couldn't get any worse.

He glared at her. "What?"

She stifled her annoying laughter. "You happy to see me or something?" she asked, looking down at his groin.

He felt heat rising to his face. He was still hard, and the bulge in his pants was clearly visible.

"And what's going on with your shirt?"

He shoved past her. "Fuck off. I'm not in the mood to deal with your bullshit."

"Oh, I bet this is good," she said as he walked away.

Ignoring her, he turned into the nearest bathroom. Seeing that it was empty, he entered a stall and freed his cock. He began pumping it, hoping he would calm down after a quick orgasm, but as he did he noticed something crazy.

He was bigger. It looked like his penis had gained over an inch in length, and it felt quite a bit thicker in his grip. He grabbed his balls, and they felt much larger, each one about the size of a ping pong ball. He was hung like a porn star, which only served to increase his arousal.

He continued pumping, getting used to using longer strokes than he was used to. With his gaze focused downward, he could see the large twin stains on his shirt from where he had pressed himself to Emily's tits. Feeling a mix of shame and undeniable lust, he pulled up his shirt, bringing one of the wet splotches to his face. He could tell that the smell was different from Emily's; other fluids. It seemed thicker, creamier. He stuffed some of the fabric into his mouth and sucked on it, wringing out as much milk as he could. His cock pulsed as a tiny bit of milk went down his throat. It tasted amazing, even with the acrid taste of his shirt threatening to overpower it.

He could only imagine what it would taste like directly from the source.

With that thought, he felt his body tense, building to climax. Realizing he forgot to get some toilet paper and that he wasn't in a good position to aim at the toilet, he cupped his hand in front of his penis before convulsing in pleasure. Wave after wave of cum erupted from his cock, each load blasting into his hand and dripping heavily into the toilet.

His orgasm lasted twice a long as it usually did, and as it died down into small aftershocks, he marveled at the amount of cum he had produced. His hand was covered in the stuff, and that wasn't even the bulk of it! He glanced down at his improved equipment in awe, before groaning in realization.

He was still hard as diamonds.

Emily had her arms wrapped tight around her tits as she made her way through the halls to the student parking lot. The tingling sensation that had accompanied her sudden growth was; though dulled; still present, and she had a feeling that she knew what that meant. Breast-milk continued to leak from her nipples, soaking down her shirt in two wide streaks.

She had hoped she could get to her car before anyone saw her, but her luck today was continuing to be terrible.

"Ha! I knew I'd find you," Hannah said from behind her.

Emily hunched over, holding herself tighter. "Go away."

"Saw your boyfriend a second ago. He was pissed."

Emily tried walking faster, but Hannah would not let up.

"Holy shit, are your boobs even bigger? Fucking gross. At least I can tell Sydney that her hormone theory was;" Hannah had caught up to her and fell silent when she saw the front of Emily's tits.

"Oh my god!" She stopped for a moment, shocked, but just as Emily passed her Hannah's lips twitched upward into a predatory grin.

Emily ran. Whatever Hannah had to say, she didn't want to hear it. Luckily, the bully wasn't trying to follow her, apparently having gotten what she wanted out of her.

She made it to her car and went home, leaking breast-milk the entire way. When she finally pulled into her driveway, she rushed out of the car and went to her parents' bathroom.

She took off her shirt, shuddering as she peeled the wet fabric off of her skin. Her nipples were extremely sensitive, with even the slightest brush of her fingertips sending pleasurable shocks through her tits.

They were so big; two basketball-sized orbs hanging down heavily to her belly-button. Despite their size, they looked perfect. They were round and perky, sagging just enough to form into two immaculate teardrops. Her nipples were huge; each one around two inches in both length and thickness with areolas that were over five inches wide.

She squeezed her tits and quickly discovered how good it felt to be milked. Curious, she lifted her right tit to her mouth and suckled on her own nipple, nibbling on it as milk flooded into her mouth. It was thick, creamy, and delicious, and she couldn't help but want more. Only a few seconds of this was enough to send her into orgasm, and she felt her legs give out. She collapsed to her knees, letting her tit fall from her mouth with a long, pleasured moan. Her milk flow surged, with two large streams arcing from her nipples while dozens of tiny streamers sprayed from her areolas in every direction.

As her orgasm faded, her flow reduced back to a slow, continuous leak. Her breathing was ragged as she returned to awareness.

If she could just forget about everything else, then she would just want to keep getting bigger and bigger, but she couldn't get what Hannah said out of her head. "Gross". No one but a nympho like Emily could think that boobs this big were sexy. That look on Jacob's face; she didn't know what caused it, but it couldn't have been anything good. Did he think her boobs were gross, too?

She lifted herself up, careful not to slip in her milk. Her tits were so heavy that they were starting to mess up her balance. She pulled a towel out of the bathroom closet and draped it over them so that more of her milk wouldn't drip onto the floor.

She took some dildos out of her parents' room and brought them back into the bathroom, dropping them into their large whirlpool tub. She delicately stepped into it and laid down, pulling the towel from her tits and letting her milk flow freely. She grabbed a dildo and brought it to her pussy, gasping in pleasure as it entered her. She squeezed a hand around her nipple, pretending it was Jacob suckling at her teat.

As much as she hated herself for it, there was only one thing that could distract her from her depressed thoughts, and she could really use a distraction right now.

After the third orgasm, Jacob had figured that he wouldn't be able to calm down any time soon, so he left school early. After spending two hours locked in his bathroom, cumming who knows how many times, he was finally soft.

He opened a window after wiping himself off. The smell of cum permeated the room, and he desperately hoped it would air out before his parents got home.

Now that he wasn't consumed with lust, he could recognize how strange everything had been from the moment that Emily had walked into the classroom. His mind had been so addled that he never even questioned how she'd grown so much. Now, though, he realized how utterly bizarre it all was.

He had a few theories about what was going on, but that could wait. Right now he needed to apologize to Emily for being such a sleaze.

He picked up his phone and tried to call her, sighing as he only got her voicemail. Hanging up, he instead tried sending her a text.

Hey Emily. I'm really, really sorry about how I acted today. Are you alright?

It was a shitty apology, he knew, but he just couldn't bring himself to go into detail over how much of a jerk he had been. He hit send, hoping she would get back to him.

He entered his room and locked the door before falling onto his bed. Looking down, he admired his new size. It looked big even while flaccid. He had measured himself the moment he got home, and at full erection he was sporting a hefty seven and a half inches, with two inch wide balls that apparently supplied an ungodly amount of sperm.

It seemed whatever was affecting Emily was affecting him as well, though only in one aspect. He couldn't find anything different about himself other than his junk.

Did Emily know why this was happening? Either way, they would have to talk about it. It was definitely going to be awkward as hell, but he couldn't just ignore this. Hopefully he would be prepared for when he saw her tomorrow. He couldn't afford to go crazy like he did today.

Jacob gazed at the empty chair next to him. Emily had never replied to his text, and now she had skipped school. He was starting to get worried. He'd like to think that her parents had taken her to a doctor or something, but he couldn't shake the feeling that that wasn't the case.

The bell rang, and Jacob absentmindedly left the classroom. As he made his way to his next class, he saw Hannah and her friends standing in the hallway, laughing about something.

"It was hilarious. The dumb bimbo literally had to carry her boobs just to walk."

Her friends laughed as Hannah hunched over and pretended to carry a heavy load against her chest.

Jacob approached them and gave Hannah a glare.

"Seriously, what is your problem?" he asked.

"Oh, hey, it's the boyfriend." Hannah smirked and glanced at his crotch. "Aw, am I not doing it for you? Guess you only get off to cows."

"Fuck you." He walked away. These idiots weren't worth his time.

"How eloquent. Could you tell me something?" Hannah said, voice raised so everyone in the hall could hear her.

Jacob took in a calming breath and just kept walking.

"Were you mad because you knocked her up, or because someone else did?"

He stopped, fist clenching as he turned around. The volume of the conversations around them noticeably dimmed. "What are you talking about?"

"That's what you were pissed about yesterday, right? I mean, she's obviously pregnant."

"I'm pretty sure she isn't," he replied, already regretting rising to her bait.

"So how do you explain the milk leaking out of those ugly udders of hers?"

"Even if she was pregnant, how is that any of your business?"

He could tell that that was the wrong response, going by the way Hannah grinned in triumph.

"So she is pregnant!" She turned to her friends. "Think the kid'll be fucked up from whatever drug she's using to blow herself up?"

"Are you a fucking psychopath?" Jacob asked, seething. Several onlookers stared at Hannah as if they were wondering the same thing.

Hannah simply sneered and walked away with her lackeys following behind her.

Jacob left in the opposite direction, ignoring the murmur of quiet conversations that began to spread through the hall. He couldn't take it anymore. He needed to know if Emily was alright.

He exited the school and went to his car while trying one more time to call Emily. She didn't answer, so he started looking up addresses for any nearby Tenner residences. She had told him that she lived in White Springs, one of the ritzier neighborhoods in the area, so he didn't have to look very hard to find an address that fit the bill. "Michael and Jessica Tenner" were most likely her parents.

After a half hour drive, he made his way into the suburb, admiring how big all the houses were. When his GPS had indicated that he had arrived at his destination, he turned into the driveway of one of the mini-mansions.

He looked in his rear-view mirror and saw that the red SUV that had been driving behind him for a while turned into the driveway as well. There was a man driving and a woman in the passenger seat. Emily's parents, probably. Well, this was awkward.

They both parked, and when he exited his car, he was met with two stunning individuals, though one was much more stunning than the other. No wonder Emily was so hot. God, her mom was built.

Luckily he was able to keep his ogling to a minimum. Hopefully they didn't notice, as they already didn't seem to be in a forgiving mood.

The woman gave him a suspicious look. "Can we help you?"

Jacob suddenly found his shoes to be utterly fascinating. "Uh, are you Emily Tenner's parents?"

"We are," Mr. Tenner said.

"I'm Jacob Housley; one of her friends from school. Is; Is she doing alright? She didn't come to school today and she won't answer her phone."

Some of the tension in their stances eased, though not completely.

"I'll go look for her," Mrs. Tenner said before swiftly making her way to the front door.

Mr. Tenner watched her go and turned back toward Jacob with a halfhearted smile. "Sorry about that. We've been away from home and Emily hasn't been answering our calls since Sunday, so we're a bit worried."

Jacob furrowed his brow. "How long have you been gone?"

The worry on Mr. Tenner's face deepened. "We left Friday evening. Why, did something happen?"

"Uh, well; "

Emily stood in the bathtub, leaning over at a ninety degree angle, letting her watermelon-sized tits hang freely under her. She kept one hand on the side of the tub while the other milked her tits, alternating with every squeeze. She wanted to do both at the same time, but at this point her boobs were so heavy that she wouldn't have been able to keep her balance in this position.

She couldn't believe she didn't think to try this sooner. She had spent hours last night masturbating in the tub, just

His Desired Girl: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Mon, 27 Jul 2026 19:31:00 +0000

His Desired Girl: Part 1

After Jacob asks her out, Emily's body begins to change.

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

After finding out how Jacob feels about her, Emily's body begins to change, and Jacob can't help but notice that her transformation is conforming to his deepest fantasies.

"Ugh, lab reports suck," Emily said before slumping over onto the table.

Jacob chuckled. "Can't argue with that."

The two lab partners were sitting together in the school library, attempting to work on their AP biology homework, though at this point Emily wasn't above some idle distraction.

"Did you read that manga comics I showed you?" Emily asked.

"Yeah; it was really cute for a while, but I kinda fell off of it when the love interest started getting all moody and aggressive." Jacob shrugged. "Never really understood the appeal of those kinds of characters."

Emily huffed in indignation. "You just don't get it. There's nothing more romantic than a good Kabedon dominance."

Emily glanced up at Jacob, who had gone back to writing in his lab book. He had a smile on his face, which Emily couldn't help but mirror. This was nice; having a friend. From the very beginning of high school, Emily had just sort of sequestered herself into the background, not really interacting with anyone if she could help it. The throes of puberty certainly didn't help much, gracing her with terrible acne and not much else to compensate for it; just a couple of modest C cups and; well; her urges.

When she learned that Jacob Housley was assigned as her lab partner in biology, she intended to keep up her usual routine with group assignments: do all of it, none of it, or trade it off every other assignment. It had served her well for so long, but Jacob wasn't having it. He insisted they work together, unilaterally deciding that every Friday they'd meet in the library and work on that week's lab assignment.

It took a while, but bit by bit Emily opened up to her pushy lab partner, and found him to be a fun person to be around. She recently discovered that they shared an interest in manga and anime, and with that came the back and forth of recommendations as well as the subsequent discussions of shared enjoyment or scandalized disagreement. It was a bit sad to admit, but it had been the first time that she'd had any real fun with any of her classmates since she started high school, and she truly cherished it.

"Hey, Emily?" Jacob asked.

She lifted herself off the table and sat up, furrowing her brow at Jacob's nervous expression. "Yeah?"

"Would you; maybe; want to go out?"

Emily froze. Jacob; wanted to date her? Was that a thing that could happen? Her breathing quickened and she felt a tingle between her legs. Mentally groaning, she urged her stupid body to calm down and tried to formulate a response.

Before she could, though, someone behind her laughed.

"I think you confused her," said the sickeningly familiar voice. "Even pizza face knows that you'd have to be completely desperate to want to ask her out."

Even though Emily really should've been immune to it by now, the insult stuck inside of her like a parasite. Sometimes she wanted to ask Hannah Burton if she was trying to be a Mean Girl stereotype, but she would always just freeze up at every opportunity; like right now, for instance. By the time Emily turned around, Hannah had already walked away; her stupid, perfect ass swinging from side to side as she left the library.

"Fuck her," Jacob said, looking down at his feet. "Dammit. I should've said something, but I just;"

"It's okay."

"Anyway, um. Do you;""

"No. I'm sorry."

"Oh."

Emily could hear the disappointment in his voice.

"It's not because of what she said, right?" he asked.

"No."

"'Cause I think you're awesome." A bit of red crept into his cheeks. "And pretty."

"Thanks."

Emily gathered her stuff and stood.

"Hey," Jacob said, a tinge of panic in his voice, "we're still friends, right?"

Emily turned to him, trying her best to fake a smile. "Yeah. See you on Monday?"

"Sure; " Jacob relaxed a little, but worry was still plain on his face. "Sure. See ya Monday."

Jacob zoned out as he watched Emily leave the library. He fucked up. He should've said something to Hannah; seriously, pizza face? but he'd been distracted by the stupidest fucking thing possible. The moment he had asked Emily out, he'd gotten inexplicably horny. He knew he was excited at the prospect of going out with her, but was he really that immature? Even after that horrible mood shift, he was still hard. God.

He didn't believe for a second that Hannah's insult had nothing to do with Emily's answer. It might have still been "no", of course, but she probably wouldn't have been so torn up about it without the bitch's input.

Over the course of getting to know Emily, Jacob had realized that she had a pretty big complex about her looks. He didn't really understand it; the only real point against her was the acne. Take that away and she'd be the prettiest girl in the school; beautiful, olive-toned skin; dark brown eyes he could stare into for hours; and full, luscious, unbearably kissable lips. Sure, she didn't have his ideal body type, but that only existed in the realm of fiction. If he judged girls based on that he'd be single forever.

He took in a deep breath and sighed. There was still a bit of that smell from earlier lingering in the air. He had noticed it right before Hannah showed up, so it must've been her perfume or something. It; actually smelled really, really good. Like milk and honey, but way better. Not that he'd ever tell her that.

Jacob packed away his stuff and left the library. Although he worried that it would drive them further apart, he decided he'd ask Emily out again if the opportunity presented itself and there weren't any idiots around to put her down. Hopefully it wouldn't be as much of a train wreck as his first attempt.

Emily drove home on autopilot, barely paying attention to what she was doing in her depressed haze.

Hannah was wrong. Jacob wasn't desperate, he was just a good person. He'd somehow found something to like in an ugly, anti-social girl who had initially wanted nothing to do with him. He might have even been telling the truth when he said she was pretty, though she honestly couldn't understand how he could've come to that conclusion.

She knew he could do better than her. Jacob was fun and handsome, and while he wasn't exactly popular, he wasn't unpopular either. Once he got over her rejection, she was sure he could find a nice girlfriend who wasn't as ugly or boring as her.

Besides, if they got together, he'd eventually learn about her; habits, and she wasn't really sure if she could handle that. He'd probably think she was a freak, and he'd probably be right to think it.

She finally broke away from her self-loathing as she pulled into her driveway and saw her parents loading up the SUV. They were getting ready to leave for their "second honeymoon", whatever that meant. Probably "nonstop sex in a hotel room", if she had to guess.

Her dad waved at her as she got out of the car. "Hey baby."

"Hey," she replied. "Are you and Mama about to leave?"

Her mom walked out of the garage lifting two heavy suitcases like it was nothing. "Can't wait to get rid of us, huh? We're almost ready. How was school?"

"Fine," Emily lied.

Her mom finished packing the car and wrapped her arm around her dad's waist.

"You sure there won't be any house parties while we're gone?" her dad asked.

"No, Daddy."

Her mom smirked. "You don't have to lie to us, Emily."

Emily rolled her eyes and once again wondered at two people in front of her. Michael and Jessica Tenner: the perfect couple in every conceivable way. They were both doctors who had met in medical school. Michael could easily be described as exceedingly handsome, even if he was a bit on the short side.

Jessica, though, was extraordinary. People were always surprised when they found out she was an anesthesiologist, since their first guess would always be professional bodybuilder. She wasn't too bulky, but she was built enough that she wouldn't be able to hide it even if she wanted to; not that she did. Her muscles didn't detract from her bust either, her pectorals sporting two shapely G cup tits. Add to that her general drop-dead gorgeousness, and you started to wonder if Amazons were really a myth.

Honestly, if it weren't for a few incidental facial similarities, Emily would've thought she was adopted. There was a period in middle school where she seemed to start bulking up, but it didn't last very long, and she just went back to her normal figure in a week. She remembered it really upsetting her dad for some reason.

Jessica approached her, wrapping her in a tight hug. "We'll miss you, baby."

"Yeah yeah," Emily replied, pulling away from her only to be hugged by Michael. "I'll miss you, too."

They both got into the SUV, Jessica waving from the passenger seat.

"Don't wreck the house too bad," she said as they drove away.

Emily waved them off, eager to have the house to herself. Hopefully being able to go all out without having to worry about being heard would cheer her up. She entered the house and made a beeline up the stairs and into her parents' room. She found the key to their expansive walk-in closet in its usual hiding spot, and, like always, marveled at its contents.

There was one thing above all else that made Emily certain that she was was her parents' daughter: her libido. She had been masturbating multiple times a day before she even knew what sex was. Then, one night in middle school, she found out what Michael and Jessica Tenner were "playing" every night in their bedroom. She had stared transfixed through the crack in the door, blown away at how something that big could fit inside of her Mama. That experience had actually led to a bit of confusion when she discovered pornography, since all the guys in it were so tiny. It wasn't until later on that she realized that her mother wasn't the only ridiculously endowed person in the family.

It wasn't long after that event that she had figured out where her parents kept their "toys", which brought her back to the present moment. Behind a huge rack of clothes was a veritable shrine to sex. A huge assortment of items lined the walls and filled the shelves: lingerie, bondage gear, cock rings, anal beads, strap-ons; there was even a disassembled sex swing sitting in the corner of the room. What Emily was interested in, though, was the shelf filled entirely with neatly-arranged dildos.

Figuring she had all weekend to work her way up to the more intense sizes, she decided to start small, picking up a green, eight-inch vibrator. After washing it in the bathroom sink, she stripped naked and went to her bedroom.

She fell onto her bed and began teasing her clit. It never took her very long to get going, and in no time at all her juices were already overflowing and dripping onto the sheets. She brought the end of the vibrator to her slit, and this time she didn't imagine it belonging to some random porn actor, and instead pretended it belonged to Jacob. She imagined him laying over her, getting ready to penetrate her for the first time.

He'd be gentle, slowly inserting his rod to make sure he didn't hurt her. She gradually pushed the vibrator into her pussy, inch by inch, until it was fully inside her. She moaned in pleasure, her hips twitching upwards at irregular intervals.

Jacob would look deep into her eyes and ask her if she was okay.

"Hmm. Your cock feels so good in my pussy, Jacob."

He'd begin thrusting, still taking care to not be too rough. Emily pumped the vibrator with one hand while fingering her clit with the other.

"Harder, Jacob! Fuck me harder!"

She quickened her pace, thrusting the toy in and out of her as she imagined Jacob moaning in her ear. Her pleasure built to a crescendo.

"Cum inside me! Fill me up with your cum!"

She came, her inner walls repeatedly clenching around the vibrator as she imagined Jacob pumping her with his sperm. She writhed in pleasure for nearly a full minute before relaxing, her breathing short and rapid in post-orgasmic bliss. She pulled the vibrator out of her pussy and brought it to her mouth, licking up her juices while pretending it was mixed with Jacob's cum.

She went on like this for hours, cumming around twenty times before she lost count. Her body never seemed to tire when it came to sexual pleasure, though she never really thought much of it. After all, it wasn't uncommon for her to hear her parents going at it all day.

She probably could've kept going all night, but she eventually decided it was time for bed and took a shower. After using the shower head to get in one more quick orgasm, she washed herself off and went to bed.

She hugged her pillow as she tried to sleep, still feeling a bit down. A good masturbation session usually made her feel better, but this time there was a constant twinge of disappointment in the back of her mind. It was too bad that her imaginary partner would forever remain imaginary.

When Emily woke up she felt; different, somehow. Confused, she brought her hands to her face to rub the sleep out of her eyes; and immediately froze. Her heart began to race as she desperately tried to feel for something that miraculously seemed to be missing.

Excitement building, she rushed to the master bathroom and gasped at the girl staring back at her through the mirror. Her face was completely unblemished, covered in perfectly clear, silky-smooth skin. She ran her fingers across her cheek in wonder. Looking down, she found the rest of her body in the same condition; absolutely perfect olive skin from head to toe.

That wasn't all, though. She was curvier. A lot curvier. It seemed she had gotten wider in all of the right places; her hips and thighs were noticeably thicker, and her ass had plumped up quite a bit as well. She groped her tits, and they were definitely heavier, fuller; about the size of a pair of grapefruits. Even her nipples; which in the course of her examinations had become rock hard; had grown longer and thicker.

Just to be sure she wasn't hallucinating or something, she went back to her room and tried putting on some of her clothes. She was pretty sure her panties felt tighter, but she got clear confirmation of her growth when she tried to pull on one of her pairs of jeans. The denim stretched tightly over her thighs, and she really had to struggle to get the waist of the jeans past her hips and ass. When she finally managed to pull them fully on, she felt like her entire lower body was caught in a vice. She didn't even bother trying to do up the button, dismissing it as a lost cause.

Emily could feel wetness soaking into her panties as she picked out a bra with mounting excitement. She slipped both arms through the straps with practiced ease, letting the cups slip under the curve of her tits. That wonderful, unfamiliar tightness gripped her chest as she reached back and, with some difficulty, hooked on the back straps of the bra. She reached under each cup and adjusted herself as best she could, but there was only so much she could do. Her tits were absolutely squashed into the too-small undergarment, flesh bulging outwards over the top of the cups. After admiring herself for a bit longer, she slipped on a red v-neck that, like the rest of her outfit, felt tighter than before.

By all rights she should've been terribly uncomfortable, but she was thrilled by the tightness hugging her body, as if she were about to burst out of her outfit at any second.

She walked back into the bathroom and gazed at herself in the mirror. She was; she was hot! Her hips flared out much wider than her waist, her ass was a perfect "apple bottom", with her cheeks jutting outward at a sharp angle from her waist and thighs, and her tits were skirting the border between "big" and "huge."

To top it all off was her perfect, clear face. Though, now that she thought about it, was she always this; good looking? Frowning, she studied herself closer, feeling the contours of her face. She didn't think her facial structure had changed at all. Putting aside all the changes to the rest of her body, was clearing up her acne really all it took to make her feel so; pretty?

Was that what Jacob saw in her? Her heart fluttered at the thought of him. Maybe he'd ask her out again when he saw how hot she had become. Maybe; maybe she felt good enough for him, now?

; Was that shallow of her?

She shook her head. She could worry about that later. Right now she really needed to get off. It had been a long time since she felt this horny. She pulled down her pants, exposing her dripping sex. As much as she loved the feeling of her tight jeans, there was no way she was going to be able to fit a hand down there without taking them off.

She cleared a space on the bathroom counter and climbed up, getting up close and personal with her own reflection. Standing on her knees, she leaned back and ran her fingers over her labia before attacking her clit. A shockwave of pleasure coursed through her, her nub seeming even more sensitive than usual. As she continued playing with it, she was starting to think that even it had gotten a bit bigger.

First two, then three fingers inserted themselves into her eager pussy, pumping in and out of her as her thumb continued to rub at her clit. Deciding that she needed to get a feel for her new tits as well, she roughly pulled up her shirt and bra. Two big, beautiful tits slipped out from under her clothes, bouncing hypnotically as they escaped the confines of her top. With the hand she wasn't using to finger herself, she grabbed at a nipple. As her fingers pinched at the hard pink nub, she let out a surprised and ecstatic squeak. It was so sensitive! She had never felt anything like it before!

She pulled her other hand away from her pussy and moaned as she pinched her other nipple. Reveling in the newfound sensations, she began groping and jiggling her new assets, all the while pulling and twisting roughly at her nipples. After only a few moments, her body rocked in orgasm, pleasure radiating out from her tits and suffusing itself throughout her entire body. She forced open her eyes and stared in awe at the curvy vixen in the mirror writhing in front of her.

Her breathing shifted from helpless gasps to heavy panting as her orgasm ceased. She stared at her tits in amazement. She didn't even know it was possible to cum with her tits! These changes to her body just kept getting better and better!

That thought brought her back to reality. What was going on with all of this, anyway? A late growth spurt? If so, then this had to have been the fastest growth spurt in history. She'd certainly never heard of anyone's tits going from a modest handful to the size of grapefruits in one night. Should she be worried?

Looking back at her reflection, she decided to just roll with it for now. All of the changes were positive, and she felt amazing. She may as well enjoy it.

Emily groggily opened her eyes, confused at her unfamiliar surroundings.

Oh, that's right. She had spent the entire day masturbating, pretty much confining herself to her parents' bedroom so that she could have easy access to their toy collection. She had no idea how many times she came, but she had worked her way up to an impressive twelve-inch dildo before finally collapsing in exhaustion on her mom and dad's bed.

Yawning, she got up and trudged to her room, making a mental note to clean the toys that were still scattered all over the place. The first thing to catch her eye was the blinkin

A Housekeeper's Charm: Part 3.

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Sun, 26 Jul 2026 06:13:00 +0000

A Housekeeper's Charm: Part 3.

Simon seeks to impress Joy.

Based on a post by Smutty and fun. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

When she went downstairs to start to figure out what to have for dinner, she was surprised to see Simon outside dodging the rain under an overhang, barbecuing. After she put on a hoodie, she went outside, and said, "Hey there, whatcha makin'?"

Taking a swig of the beer he had set on a table beside the barbecue, he told her, "Thought I'd give the cook a night off and make us some burgers."

"Wow, how nice. Then do you want me to make us something to go with it?"

He opened up the lid on the barbecue, and pointed with the tongs at two foil wrapped pouches. "It's all done. I cut us up some veggies and potato wedges. We can add some more olive oil and herbs, once their ready."

"Oh, so you can, cook?" She said, flashing him a grin.

He shrugged. "After my wife died, I picked up a few tricks online and watched a few cooking shows. But I wouldn't get too excited until you've tasted everything."

She nodded, and said, "Then I'll set the table."

The dinner he made was surprisingly good. Simon even nodded, looking satisfied as he patted his flat belly, once he was done. Then he watched her as she finished her dinner, realizing that he really did enjoy having her around, even if nothing else was going to happen. In addition to being easy on the eyes, she was fun and interesting to talk to, and smart as a whip. A part of him wished that they'd met under different circumstances. Of course, if she hadn't come to work for him, it was unlikely they ever would have met. Now he was just glad that it was her that had answered his ad.

He helped her clear the table, but laughed when she shooed him out of the kitchen with a wave of her hands and told him to go and watch some TV or something, accusing him of trying to steal her job. He was watching a documentary about ancient Rome and the many layers of the city that sat underground, when she came in to join him. Judging from how engrossed she looked, she seemed to get into it pretty quickly, telling him, "My grandmother Joy, who I was named for, used to take us to Italy every summer."

"Oh, really, was she Italian?"

She shook her head. "No, but she was fabulously wealthy and had a villa there when she was younger, from what I've heard. She also had a lover or two. My grandad died just after my mother was born, leaving my gran filthy rich, and still pretty young and attractive from the pictures I've seen, so I would imagine she had more than her fair share of admirers. I grew up kind of spoiled because of her, as a trust fund baby. It might be why I can't figure what I want to do with myself. She always told me that one day, I'd just know. But unfortunately I'm still waiting to find out."

Simon wiggled his eyebrows playfully, and said, "Maybe once you've finally sold your first naughty romance novel, you'll get the bug and won't be able to stop."

"you know, that would be nice, because I do love to write. For now it's more of hobby, which is why I feel compelled to still find work, like working for you ; although I don't really need the money, because my gran left me quite comfortable."

That surprised him, since she seemed pretty down to earth. He never would have guessed that she came from money. "Well, from what I've read of your book, you're a pretty good writer, and I think you might just have what it takes."

She held up her crossed fingers and said, "Here's hoping." Although she had a friend in the publishing business who'd told her to send her one of her manuscripts. She still didn't have the nerve to just go ahead and do it. But maybe once she fine-tuned the one she was working on now, she might just send it, especially since she was more inspired than she'd ever been, all thanks to him.

Finally taking a look around the room, she noticed the picture again on one of bookshelves, that she dusted that afternoon, and asked, "Was that your wife?"

Simon looked up and nodded at the picture of Jenny with their golden lab, Beau. "Yeah, that's her and Beau, probably taken about ten years ago."

He hoped if there really was a heaven, that they were re-united, since she'd loved that dog from the moment they'd brought it home as a puppy.

"Wow, she was beautiful."

"That she was," he agreed. But for the first time in a long time, it occurred to him that he didn't feel the unbearable pain he'd felt every time he'd looked at her picture. He began to wonder as he looked over at Joy, if she might be the reason. It wasn't like he'd moved on, but it was more like he was finally getting on with the business of living. His mother had told him after he'd lost his wife ; and was pretty consumed with his loss ; that he should try to remember that life was for the living. And now, thanks to the lovely young woman who'd come waltzing into his life, he was beginning to understand just what that meant.

Once the Rome documentary had finished, suddenly feeling like celebrating, Simon got up, and said, "How about a drink?"

Joy smiled and said, "Sure."

"Okay, then name your poison."

She tipped her head, and suggested, "Hmm, maybe something a little sweet?"

"I've got just the thing." When he came back and handed her a pretty rosy-orange colored drink, once she toasted with him and had a sip, she said, "Wow, that's good. What is it?"

He grinned, as told her, "Sex on the Beach."

She almost choked once he said that. "Well, it's good, whatever it's called."

Simon was enjoying a snifter of Grand Marnier, as he told her, "I think I'll dress for dinner tomorrow night."

"Well then I'm glad I brought a dress, even though I wasn't sure I'd ever have a chance to wear it."

Valentines Plans.

The next night at sunset, when Joy came downstairs and couldn't see Simon at first, she smiled when she noticed he was outside again, barbecuing the steaks and jumbo shrimp she'd bought for them. Since she'd already made them a few appetizers and fixed the salad, their dinner was almost ready.

She opened the door, surprised at how amazing he looked in what she could see of his dark fitted suit, since he had a full length black barbecue apron over the top to protect it. "You look nice," she told him. And he really did, with a kind of sexy James Bond-ish thing going on, with his crisp white shirt, black suit and tie and his dark hair nicely styled, she was just eating him up with her eyes.

Once he'd put the lid back down on the barbecue, he turned, looked her over from top to toe, and gave her a whistle, telling her, "Wow, and so do you."

In a short, body hugging black dress with a sexy lacy overlay that barely concealed her cleavage, he thought she looked amazing, and her heels made her long, shapely legs look like they went on forever. With her dark hair up and shining, with little diamond studs in her ears, he could hardly believe it was her. Gorgeous didn't even begin to describe her. Wearing just a light touch of makeup tonight, she looked absolutely stunning. The mischievous glint in her eyes as she looked him over, made him smile. Now he just hoped he could keep his hands off her, but was beginning to have his doubts.

Once the food was ready, she walked with him, into the dining room, and her eyes got misty when she noticed that not only had he placed a huge bouquet of red roses on the table, but he'd also scattered some petals over the white tablecloth, and had even put a heart-shaped box of chocolates at her place. Smiling into his eyes, she said, "Thank you, Simon."

He just shrugged. "Thought if we were going to do Valentine's together, I might as well try and do it right."

"Well, you have, and it's beautiful." The pristine white china and gleaming crystal glasses, made the table look so elegant. For the first time in her life she felt special, like she mattered to someone. Even if he was only doing it for fun, it still warmed her right to her toes that he'd gone to so much trouble.

Simon popped the cork on a bottle of Champagne, smiling into her eyes as he poured. A little afraid he'd gone too far, she just looked so happy, that he was glad now he'd gone to the trouble of getting some flowers and picking her up some Belgian chocolates. Once they were both seated side-by side, they lifted their glasses in a toast and clinked, telling each other, "Happy Valentine's Day." Then Simon thought 'what the hell', and leaned over and pressed a chaste little kiss to her cheek. After all, it was a day for lovers, even if they weren't; and most likely would never be.

Joy shamelessly moaned when she tasted the meal he'd made. Although they'd said they'd make it together, the shrimp tasted so fantastic barbecued, with just the right amount of spice, that she was glad he'd cooked them on the grill. Her steak was perfect, too, just the way she liked it, a perfect medium rare with nice grill marks. "This is perfect," she told him looking at all he'd done for them. "Thank you again for everything, Simon."

"Well, I guess I should be thanking you, too. If you weren't here tonight, I'd probably just be shuffling around the house by myself, in my pajamas, oblivious to the fact that it was even Valentine's Day."

Seeing how good he looked now, she was delighted to see the change in him, even in the few days since she'd come. The fact that he was willing to join her for something like this, she could tell he was well on his way to feeling more like himself. Now she hoped that when she finally had to leave, that he'd be okay on his own again, although she kind of hated the thought of him living all on his own, out here away from everyone ; especially since he'd be away from her, too.

Then she wanted to smack herself when she realized what she'd done. "Oh, I forgot the appetizers," she told him, once they were half way through their meal. After pushing back her chair, she ran into the kitchen, returning with a platter of pretty heart-shaped hors d'oeuvres that she'd painstakingly worked on that afternoon.

Once she sat down again, Simon nodded at her handy work. "Wow, they look almost too pretty to eat."

"Well, they're meant to be eaten, so taste." Then she was lifting a heart shaped tomato bruschetta to his lips, and smiling as he opened his mouth to have a bite, of course letting his tongue linger on her fingers for a second or two.

He groaned as he chewed, covering his mouth and murmuring, "Wow, are those ever good."

Then she fed him another, with black olives and roasted red peppers. Again he moaned, rolling his eyes.

"You like?" she asked him.

"I think I'm in love," he told her, before he could think better of it. But thankfully it just seemed to go over her head, as she placed a couple of them on his plate and then helped herself to a few.

Joy had definitely blinked when she heard him say that he thought he was in love, and her heart was still hammering pretty hard, just from hearing him say the words. She'd sure grown attracted to him in the short time she'd known him, and she had a feeling that what she was feeling was a lot more than simple attraction. All she knew was that she'd never felt as comfortable with anyone before. They just had so much in common. Already she was a little afraid that she actually was falling for him ; and pretty hard, too.

Finally, once dinner was over, Simon insisted on helping her clear the table. Since it was a dinner for the two of them and not just him, he insisted.

Once they were done, she still had him go sit down again so she could get their coffee and dessert ready. When she came back with a beautifully decorated heart-shaped pink frosted cake, with perfect little hand-piped chocolate cupids, he could hardly believe his eyes. She had such a gift for whimsy, and it seemed it really was addictive, since he'd had to hunt for the perfect box of chocolates for her with similar little cupids on the bow. It was something he'd never have dreamed of doing, before her.

Simon realized there was no escaping the fact that she'd really gotten under his skin. Now he couldn't imagine his life without her. Even if he never got a chance to make love with her, he'd still want her close. She was everything he needed, and he was beginning to think perhaps some cosmic force had sent her. Although his sister was the hippie-dippy one in the family, always going on about Karma and how eventually the planets align for all of us, giving us just what we deserve. Now he was beginning to wonder if there wasn't something to it. Especially if the forces that be, actually had sent this delightful creature into his life.

Evening Games and Revelations.

As Simon poured them both a glass of sweet white wine to go with their coffee and dessert, Joy looked at him and grinned, asking, "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

He just shook his head and laughed. "No. And even if I were, I'd never take advantage of you. Why are you feeling tipsy?"

As she nodded, she noticed she actually was feeling a delightful little buzz. "Hmm, maybe just a little," she said, holding her thumb and forefinger apart just a bit to show him how much, making him chuckle.

Then she leaned close giving him a tantalizing eyeful of cleavage as her scooped neckline fell open a little wider. When she smiled coyly into his eyes, he said, "I'm kind of afraid to ask what's going on in that pretty head of yours right now."

Then her grinned turned saucy, as she added; "I've got an idea. How about we play a little game?"

"Okay. But what kind of game do you have in mind?"

"Have you ever played Truth or Dare?"

"No, not that I remember," he said.

She smiled into his eyes, deciding it might be fun. "Well, it's simple. We each take turns picking either truth or dare. And if one of us asks the other a question, then we have to promise to tell the truth, no matter what's been asked. If we pick dare, and we're dared to do something, we can't refuse to do it, or the game will be over."

It did sound like fun, possibly even naughty fun, so he was definitely on-board. "Okay, I'll start with you then."

"Okay," she tipped her head and said, "Then I pick, truth."

Watching her carefully, he said, "All right then. Are you enjoying living here with me?"

Although she rolled her eyes at first, she said, "Well, that's a no brainer. Of course I'm enjoying living with you." But her tone was more serious as she told him, "Although I work for you, it doesn't really feel like you're my boss. You've actually become more of a friend." Already he liked this game, since he didn't think he'd have asked her that otherwise, or ever heard her answer so honestly.

Then she grinned at him and told him, "Okay, your turn now."

He thought for a minute, and said, "Fine, then go ahead and dare me to do something."

Biting into her lip, she seemed to be thinking for a minute before she said, "Okay, I dare you to put on some sexy music and dance around the room."

Simon was relieved that was all she'd dared him to do, glad that it didn't involve a strip tease. He got up and put on a slow song that he'd always loved, Joe Cocker's You Are So Beautiful, since he thought it was perfect, considering she really was. Then he reached for her, and when she squealed and laughed and shook her head, telling him no, he reminded her, "Ah, but you never said I had to dance alone."

Then, once he had her in his arms and they were dancing cheek to cheek to the slow sultry rhythm, as the beautiful words washed over them, he really began to enjoy the game, since he never imagined he'd have a chance to hold her like this, once their dinner was over.

Then, with her wrapped in his arms, he whispered close to her mouth, "Okay, now your turn ; truth or dare."

She smiled into his eyes. "Then I pick dare."

His eyes glinting mischievously, he said, "Okay, I dare you to kiss me, but like you really mean it."

When she tipped her face up and whispered against his lips, "But of course I'd mean it, Simon, how could I not?" before she wrapped her arms around his neck, and really planted one on him, he thought his heart would beat right out of his chest by the time she finally pulled back.

Damn, he was hard as a brick, and knew she had to be feeling it, pressed against her, too.

Then she grinned, and said, "Okay your turn."

What he really wanted to dare her to do, was strip off and join him in bed, but he didn't have the nerve to push her that far. It had been fun until now, and he didn't want to ruin their evening by doing anything she wouldn't like.

He finally said, "All right, then I'll pick truth."

When she narrowed her eyes and said, "What are you feeling right now," he almost blurted, 'painfully aroused,' but decided it wasn't exactly the best answer he could give her; no matter how true.

Finally, heaving a sigh, he looked into her eyes and was honest with her when he said, "Like I'm in over my head."

Joy tipped her head, the game forgotten, and asked, "What do you mean?"

"I just never expected you to come into my life and turn it upside down; for the better of course."

She smiled. "Well, I'm glad you think it's for the better."

"Yes," he said, "you're so good for me. But unfortunately you're way too young for the thoughts I'm having."

As surprised as she was delighted to hear him admit that he had feelings for her, too; she said, "I don't think so."

Surprised, his eyebrows shot up. "You don't?"

She shook her head and slowly began to run her fingertip along his bottom lip. "No, I don't. I think you have to be the most charming, handsome, intelligent, and the definitely the sexiest man I've ever met, and I don't think age matters when you've all that going for you, do you?"

Not sure he'd heard her right, he said, "You do realize that I'm fifty-two and not thirty-two, right?"

She grinned, "And I think you'd still be a total fox if you were seventy-two. Maybe I'm feeling a little loose lipped because of all the wine I've had, but I'm not afraid to tell you that I'm really attracted to you, Simon. In fact, I'm so attracted, that if you wanted to be with me tonight, I would definitely say yes."

She actually said that last part in a breathy whisper against his lips that warmed his mouth and stirred something deep inside him that he hadn't felt in years, and he knew he'd never felt so conflicted and yet so aroused, or so desperately attracted to anyone. He was starting to realize that he just couldn't deny them anymore. Then an unpleasant thought occurred to him and he frowned. Narrowing his eyes on her, he said, "You're not just being kind to me because you feel sorry for me, are you?"

Shaking her head, grinning, she brushed her lips against his, and murmured, "No, Simon. You're way too put together for me to ever feel sorry for you. And what I'm feeling for you right now has nothing to do with pity, and everything to do with desire. I want you."

He could barely believe that he was dancing with this gorgeous woman in his arms, who apparently was just as hot for him as he was for her. Now, if only he could figure what to do about it, it would be perfect.

Once again the naughty little minx took the decision right out of his hands, when she touched her lips to his, slipped her tongue into his mouth and began to loosen his tie. Then he knew that it was actually going to happen. When she licked into his mouth, and he could feel the heat of her hand cupping his ass, as she began to grind her mound into his erection, softly moaning into their kiss, he wondered if he'd even make to a flat surface with her, since he knew he'd never been more aroused in his life.

What a fantastic Valentine's Day this was turning out to be. Probably the best day he'd ever had; and all because of her.

A Night of Delight.

A Housekeeper's Charm: Part 2.

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Sat, 25 Jul 2026 06:11:00 +0000

A Housekeeper's Charm: Part 2.

Simon Realizes Joy is more than kitchen help.

Based on a post by Smutty and fun. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

Joy finally sat back, nodded, and said, "I really think this shows promise, it's just so well written, and so profound. And it's such an interesting concept; how language usage has changed over the years, coinciding with the changes in society in general. Like you mention in your book, it's funny to think that not all that many years ago a man would never consider leaving his house without a hat, and neither would most women. And men often wore shirts and ties, even just for dinner at home. And no one would ever dream of cursing in public in those days. But now people dress down more and wear jeans and T-shirts everywhere ; to work, to church even to funerals and weddings, and now even little kids swear like sailors.

I think you might have something here, you know. It really makes you think how society and language has changed and evolved into what we have now. And I think most people would find your book quite interesting."

Although Simon was glad that she understood what he was trying to say, he figured it was time to call it a night. So he quickly stood, and said, "Well thanks for taking a look at it. I imagine you're probably tired after that long drive, so I guess I'll head off to bed now, too."

When she curled her arms up over her head and stretched, thrusting out her tits, his gaze dropped to the fullness of her chest, and he couldn't tear his eyes off her. And he knew if he ever had an opportunity to see her with her clothes off, he'd probably lose it before he even had a chance to touch her. But before he embarrassed himself even more, he said, "Well, you know where your room is, so; uh, guess I'll say goodnight."

"Good night, Simon. And I think I'm going to enjoy working for you," she said, flashing him a grin.

He knew he was going to love having her around, maybe a little too much. And already he was kind of missing the bossy bitch he'd had to let go. As pushy as she was, at least she never got him hard.

Since he'd lost his wife, sleep was something that hadn't come easy to him, since he'd spent most of his nights restlessly tossing and turning, missing her like crazy and wondering if he could have done anything more to save her.

As he lay in bed and began to remember how adorable Joy had looked on the beach, smiling up at the feel of the sun on her face. The playful way she'd laughed and danced around the kitchen with him, and even just the look of awe in her eyes as she'd watched the sun setting on the ocean.

Simon gradually began to feel his eyelids grow heavy and before he knew it, he was out a like a light for the first time in years ; and with a pretty contented smile on his face, too.

When he awoke in the morning, he had a bounce in his step that he could even feel, as he made his way down to the kitchen, where he found his pretty new employee looking very fetching in soft grey fleecy sweat pants and top that hugged her body in all the right spots. And then his lips curled into a smile when he noticed that she also had her feet tucked into some pretty cute pink bunny slippers, realizing that her sense of whimsy was almost contagious. And he felt something stir in him just from the adorable way she grinned the moment she saw him, and said, "Morning, boss."

Accepting the piece of bacon she held out for him to taste, he let his tongue touch her fingers, and wondered if it was his imagination that her gaze seemed to darken as her eyes held his. And just for hell, because he hadn't felt as good in years, he wrapped his arm around her waist and hugged to his chest for a second, and said, "Thanks, that's just the way I like my bacon, not too chewy and not too crisp."

Once he stepped back, Joy smiled into his eyes, thinking not for the first time, that he really was a pretty striking looking man. And although she knew he was suffering, and she shouldn't have such thoughts about her new employer, she still couldn't help but feel drawn to him ; especially when the feel of his arms around her, even that briefly, just felt so good.

As they ate together at the kitchen table, Simon put down his coffee cup, and told her what he'd been thinking. "Just so you know, in case you have any plans for Valentine's Day on Thursday, if you're going to stay overnight somewhere, you don't have to worry about coming in on Friday. I'll understand, since I was young once, too."

Thinking it odd that he might have thought she'd already made plans, especially since she was so new to the area, surprised her a little. "Actually I don't have any plans, seeing as I don't know anyone around here, except you."

As he picked up his coffee cup, he asked, "So you don't have a boyfriend?"

She shook her head as she cut into her veggie omelet. "No. I haven't really dated much. I'm not really into the bar scene, and I guess I'm kind of picky about who I go out with."

Simon knew he shouldn't have felt as relieved as he did to discover she wasn't in a relationship, since it really didn't affect him one way or the other. But when he looked up and saw her pretty smile, he was awfully glad that at least for now he wouldn't have to watch her walk out of the house with some young stud on her arm, who was planning to do who knew what with her.

Deciding he should just eat his breakfast, and then get back to his book, a little part of him still wondered what it would feel like to actually be with her. He could tell she had a nice body, slender, but shapely. And since he'd been without a woman for years, he had a feeling if they ever did get together it would be fantastic, if for no other reason than he'd finally be getting over his self-imposed five year draught.

Then Joy got his attention when she put down her orange juice and touched his hand, telling him, "I have a great idea. Why don't you and I celebrate it together? We could create a fun St. Valentine's Day feast, and maybe find a sappy romance movie on TV to watch after dinner. And I'll even bake us a heart-shaped cake, just for fun. What do think?"

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, he thought it was a horrible idea, since he had no more business celebrating the most romantic day of the year with her, than he did with Great Aunt Martha, who was now almost a hundred. But seeing the excitement in her flashing blue eyes, he just couldn't think of a way to say no to her, at least without hurting her feelings. So drawing in a breath, he said, "Sure, sounds like fun." When he actually thought it sounded like a recipe for disaster. And if she put on anything sexy for their romantic little dinner for two, he knew he'd be a goner.

After they tidied up the kitchen together, narrowing her eyes on him, she put her hand on her hip and demanded to know why he was helping her, when taking care of the house was meant to be her job. But he just reached out and brushed his hand over the softness of her cheek, smiled into her eyes, and said, "Guess it's just my way of thanking you for making such a nice breakfast. It was really good, and I enjoyed it."

Feeling a little speechless, she just shrugged and went to wipe down the table. God, could she have found a nicer man to work for? Smart, sexy, fun, and so thoughtful, and she knew if she wasn't careful she could wind up in his bed. And that would not be good. Well, the sex might be amazing, judging by the look of him, since he was in fantastic shape for a man of his age, or any age really, but as far as her working for him went, she told herself she should not be entertaining such ideas, no matter how tempted she was. But, geez, every time he touched her, she could hardly ignore the way her whole body began to tingle, from head to toe ; which occurred to her was pretty strange since she'd never had it happen to her before, even with guys half his age. No getting around it, the man was a total fox, whether he knew it or not.

She was glad now, that she'd made it her mission to help him get out of the slump she'd found him in when she first arrived. Understandably, losing his wife and his beloved pet was bound to make a person sad, but she also realized that being alone with nothing but his thoughts couldn't have been good for him. So she was more than happy to try and cheer him up, since it made her feel good too, especially to see him laughing and smiling so much easier now. And the truth was she liked him ; really liked him. He was such an amazing man. And she also knew she had to be careful not to get too swept up in him, or she might have to leave if things started to get too intense, since he sure as heck hadn't hired her to warm his bed.

Crossing rules of propriety.

When Simon was done loading the dishwasher, Joy flicked a dish towel at his ass, making him laugh, as she laid down the law, and said, "Okay, now back to work on your book, mister."

Somehow, even cracking the whip like that, didn't sound bossy, coming from her. In fact, he kind of liked it. "Okay," he told her, "how about I work for a couple of hours and then we take another walk on the beach? It's a beautiful day today, and it supposed to rain tomorrow."

She smiled into his eyes, and told him, "I'd love to."

Then he stepped closer and tipped up her chin, with his eyes on hers. "And how about you, missy. Have you done any writing lately?"

She shrugged, guiltily biting into her lip, as she told him the truth. "Probably not as much as I should. I've got a few things I'm working on, but I'm not sure if any of them are any good."

Not even fully aware of what he was doing it, still standing very close to her, he ran his thumb along her jaw, and murmured close to her mouth, "Well, maybe I'll take a look at what you're working on later, and we can help each other out."

Her voice sounding a little breathy, she murmured, "Hmm, I'd like that." And she knew they could help each other out in so many ways. She'd also really like it if he got up the nerve to kiss her, but imagined that was never going to happen ; although a girl could still dream.

Then all of a sudden he brushed his lips to hers, as softly as a butterflies touch, and then just as quickly backed away, cleared his throat, and said, "Well, I guess I should get back to work."

As he turned and left, Joy had to grab hold of the counter with both hands, shocked by how deeply that touch of his lips had affected her, with every inch of her still quivering. She'd been kissed before, but wow, somehow that little brush of his lips felt almost epic, especially knowing it was him doing the kissing.

As he sat at his computer, Simon wondered what in hell had compelled him to do something as stupid as kissing her like that. But once he'd touched her face and felt the softness of her skin, it was like his lips had a mind of their own that he was powerless to resist, and before he could think better of it, he was actually touching his lips to hers. And the worst part of it was, after that teasing little taste of her, all he wanted was more ; a hell of a lot more. Now all he could think of was kissing her again ; but this time really kiss her.

He sure as hell wanted to see her naked, and wanted to be with her in every sense of the word. For the first time in ages, he was desperate to be with a woman. But it was just too bad that it had to be her, since he there was no way he could allow himself to cross that line. Seeing as she worked for him he couldn't let things go any further, or they'd both be sorry. Already he liked her too much for her to want to leave, if he ever got her upset.

Later, as they walked together arm in arm on the beach, happily chatting like they'd known each other forever, a little voice in his head kept telling him that there was no reason he couldn't at least have a taste of her lips. After all, she'd hardly seemed repulsed when he'd dared to brush his lips to hers in the kitchen.

Then the surprising little thing that she was, out of nowhere, she turned, smiled into his eyes, cupped his face in her hands, and told him, "I just have to kiss, you, Simon." And then her mouth was opening over his, and her tongue was slipping between his lips, and the way she was stroking his tongue with hers had his hands clenching her ass and his deep desperate groan echoing into their kiss.

Sliding his hand through her hair, clasping the back of her head, Simon hungrily deepened the kiss till he could feel himself growing hard against her belly. And he hadn't been as erect in so long, that it almost hurt.

Loving the feel of him pressed against her, her hands in his hair, Joy happily moaned into their kiss, blown away by the feel of his mouth on hers. Of course she'd been kissed before, but it had never felt like this. Damn, he was kissing her like his life depended on it, and she felt a little sad to think that he'd been alone and lonely for so long, that perhaps it really did.

As she threw herself into the kiss, wrapping her leg around his thigh, with her arms tight around his neck as he cupped her ass and squeezed, she knew she'd never forget this moment no matter how long she lived. Bathed in the warmth of the sun, a gentle ocean breeze ruffling their hair, warm breaths mingling; they fought to get as deeply into each other as two people could possibly get with only their mouths and hands. She wondered how she'd been so lucky to have answered his ad, if only to experience the splendor of this with him now.

Finally Simon pulled back, his chest heaving as he looked into her eyes, part of him aghast at what he'd done, but a bigger part of him thrilled that he'd had this chance with her. Damn, after kissing he like that, he wondered how he'd lasted this long without the feel of a woman.

Finally, after all these years finding himself with someone as special as she was, it seemed the timing couldn't have been better. Obviously, he was ready to join the land of the living, and now all he could think of was enjoying every last thing he could with her to the fullest.

When she closed her eyes, and threw her arms around him and hugged him even harder, murmuring, "Oh, wow," he couldn't have agreed more. Oh, wow, indeed. He'd just stepped over a line he should never have crossed, and almost ravaged his housekeeper.

They finally started walking again arm in arm, but neither of them said a word. It was like what they'd just done was almost too crazy to talk about. He could hardly tell her he was sorry, when he wasn't. Since kissing her like that and finally discovering that how good it could be, had probably been the sanest thing he'd ever done, no matter how wild it felt.

Now he wondered how things would be with them, after sharing something like that, and just hoped it wouldn't be too awkward.

Joy could still feel her entire body delectably humming. Like there was a delicious little secret inside her she was keeping. That being, that she'd found a man who turned her on like she'd never been turned on before. Already she wondered if his kiss could be that potent, then what on earth would it feel like if they were ever to make love.

Just the thought of being in his bed with him, naked; had every inch of her tingling with desire. Already she was beginning to think that it was inevitable, and that they had no choice but to explore these feelings they had for each other. She knew one thing for sure; she'd never been this attracted to any other man. If only he wasn't her boss, it would be absolutely perfect.

Escaping to the tavern.

By the time they got back to the house, Simon knew he had to say something. Although she'd been the one to kiss him, he'd definitely played a part in what had happened, and he knew he shouldn't have gotten so carried away. So, after heaving a deep breath, he said, "I'm sorry, Joy, that never should have happened."

Feeling the happy little bubble she'd been in, go poof; she hoped he didn't mean the kiss, not when it had felt so amazing. Then she got an uncomfortable feeling, as it occurred to her that he was probably now regretting his little dalliance with the help, which of course, was all she really was. She knew she'd be wise to remember that. She'd been hired to cook for him, and keep his house tidy and nothing more, no matter how incredible it felt to share that kiss.

Finally she nodded and said, "I'm sorry, Simon, it was my fault. I shouldn't have started it. I'll just go in and start dinner now."

Watching her turn away, realizing he might have hurt her, Simon didn't know what to do. He had a feeling that pulling her into his arms again would be a really bad idea, especially if he was going to try and put some distance between them, which he knew he had to do. He felt like he'd be taking advantage of her if he were ever to take her bed. How could she possibly say 'no' to him, without compromising her job? Finally, he stopped her in her tracks, when he cleared his throat, and said, "Actually I'm going out tonight, so you don't have to make anything for me."

Then, before she could even think of what to say, he was turning to leave. She was left standing to look at the setting sun all on her own, wondering what she should do now.

Simon was on his second beer, at what was normally his favorite watering hole. He remembered that he'd promised Jenny before she died, that he wouldn't do anything stupid, like starting to drink. But it went without saying, that he'd been doing a lot foolish things lately, like getting involved with his gorgeous little housekeeper. If he was smart, he knew he should send her packing; at least before things went any further. Running his thumb over the condensation on his mug, he wondered what on earth had compelled her to kiss him like that. How could a woman as beautiful as she was, half his age, possibly be interested in someone like him? It just didn't seem possible.

But it sure felt like she was into him, especially with the way she'd wrapped herself around him, as they almost devoured each other on the beach. He could feel himself stirring again, just remembering how incredible it had felt to really taste her, and have that body of hers pressed so enticingly to his.

He pushed away his second beer after a few sips, feeling like an ass for walking out, and leaving her alone. He was sure that she had to be wondering if she'd done something wrong. Although he knew it wasn't smart to get involved with a domestic employee, it sure hadn't felt wrong when he'd held her in his arms.

The Boudoir Overture.

Once he got back to the house, everything was quiet. So he made his way upstairs and gently knocked on her door, hoping she was still up, so he could at least apologize. He knew the problem laid with him, and not her. She was just so open and warm, and kissing him was probably second nature to someone as sweet and affectionate as she was, and he was probably making a big deal out of nothing because it was all just so new to him.

When he finally heard her say, "Yes?" he turned the handle and opened the door.

Then the air left his lungs when he spied her at the desk at the window working on her lap top, in just a pair of thigh-high silky pink shorts and a matching little camisole top that scooped low and hid almost nothing. With her dark hair up in a messy bun, even the sight of her slender neck had him desperately clenching the door knob in his hand. Never mind the silhouette of her breasts without a bra.

Damn, he should have waited till the morning, to talk to her. What did he think she'd be wearing in her bedroom, a snow suit?

Finally he found his voice. "I uh, just wanted to apologize, Joy. I shouldn't have run out on you like that. It's just that it's been a while for me, and I guess; when we kissed I got these feelings that I didn't know what do with."

She nodded. "I know; and I'm sorry. I guess you've noticed that I can be a little impulsive. We were just having such a perfect day together, that I just felt like kissing you. But if it upset you, then I promise I'll never do it again."

Upset him? More like turned his entire world upside down. But there was no way he could tell her that.

"I just wanted to say that there's no need to beat yourself up over it, I know it was just a kiss. I'm sure you realize that I'm still getting over a lot of stuff, and I guess I didn't know how handle being close to you like that. I just wanted to

A Housekeeper's Charm: Part 1.

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Fri, 24 Jul 2026 06:09:00 +0000

A Housekeeper's Charm: Part 1.

Joy changes Simon's life in ways he never imagined.

Based on a post by Smutty and fun. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

Not really sure what to expect when she started up the winding driveway that led to her new employer's house, but Joy was as surprised as she was delighted to find the most charming house she'd ever seen, her eyes lighting up as she reached the end of her journey and pulled to a stop to take a look. It was a picture perfect white Cape Cod with black shutters and three white dormer windows across the front, with a slate roof and an attached two-car garage. And although it was a fair size, she quickly decided that it looked more cozy than palatial. And as she parked her little car out in front, looking around, she could see that also it overlooked the ocean on one side, and was forested on the other. Wow, what a lovely place to call home; at least for a while.

Just in case, she decided it might be best to leave her luggage in the car at least until she'd actually had a chance to finally meet the man who had hired her to become his housekeeper and cook.

After inhaling a lungful of fresh crisp sea air, mixed with a delightful hint of pine, once she'd pushed the doorbell and heard it chime inside the house, she realized she had no idea what to expect. He'd told her that he was a retired English professor who lived alone, but that was about it. For all she knew he could be anywhere from forty to ninety, since it was hard to tell from a disembodied voice on the phone how old he was, or what he'd be like.

Standing and waiting, it occurred to her after a few minutes that no one seemed to be coming to the door. So she pushed the bell again and waited a little more. But as the minutes began to drag on, she wondered if he might be out for a walk on the beach or could even be somewhere out in the woods going for a hike. Not sure what to do, she tried the doorbell one last time and then wondered if she should try phoning him. Sure that they'd agreed for her to start today, now she just hoped he hadn't changed his mind about hiring her, especially after she'd driven all the way from Chicago to northern California, which had been one long grueling trip, especially on her own in winter.

But at least she knew if he had taken the time to check her references, he would have discovered, just as she'd told him that she'd tutored a few kids while going through college, and later after graduating, worked as a barista. At least until she decided she was wasting her English degree fixing half-caff, non-fat, stevia sweetened, vegan lattes all day for a bunch of overly demanding pretentious twits.

So she was certain she didn't have anything to be ashamed of online, since she'd never been much of a partier. And although she loved to have fun, she wasn't into taking selfies, naked or otherwise, or bragging about her life and every meal she ate, like so many of her friends were into. So there definitely wouldn't be any embarrassing pictures to be uncovered. And of course she'd never been in trouble with the law or anyone else, since everyone was always teasing her about being honest and law abiding to a fault, often referring to her as an 'old soul.'

Truth was, a lot of other twenty-six year olds might not think a job like this would suit them, but since Joy was more into books than picking up men, and never cared much about barhopping or shopping till she dropped, she imagined working for an elderly gentleman who'd claimed she could use her liberal free time just as she pleased, sounded like the perfect gig to her. And now finally she might have some time to get some writing done.

Settling In.

When there was still no sounds coming from inside the house, about to go back to her car and try her phone, she was surprised when the door slowly began to creep open and she found herself standing face to face with an incredibly handsome man who she imagined to be in somewhere in fifties with only a smidgen of gray at the temples of his dark hair, that only made him look more distinguished. But right away she noticed that his blue eyes looked watery, like he'd been crying. And when he wiped a hand across his eyes and seemed to be struggling to pull himself together, she didn't know where to look. Awkward didn't even begin to describe what she was feeling. Wow, what a way to start a new job.

"I'm Joy," she finally explained, slightly wincing, while doing her best to look anywhere but at him.

With a nod of his head, he stepped away from the doorway, and said quietly, "Of course, come in, Joy." Finally, he heaved a deep breath, extended his hand and introduced himself. "And I'm Simon."

Doing her best not to stare, figuring he had to be uncomfortable enough, once she'd shaken his hand she glanced around the gorgeous interior, and said, "Wow, you really have a beautiful home."

Simon looked around then, too. "Thanks. My wife did all the decorating."

Not too sure what to say, since she had no idea what of had become of his wife, Joy just took in the splendor of the place, deciding that wherever his wife was, she sure had good taste. It was so tastefully decorated it looked like a spread from a design magazine. And it all worked together so perfectly, from the detailed watercolors of old sailing ships on the walls to the deep blue leather couches in the living area, and the incredible antiques and brass accents scattered here and there, it was absolutely gorgeous, and yet it still had such a homey feel.

Finally Simon looked at her confused. "Don't you have any luggage?"

"Yes, but since I wasn't sure where you wanted me to stay, I left everything in the car for now."

"Well, I guess I should help you with it and show you to your room, then."

The oak staircase had a striking blue oriental runner that led up to the second floor. Once they made their way up the winding oak spindled steps, Simon walked her to the end of the hallway and opened a door. It brought them into an incredibly beautiful bedroom with a huge four-poster bed, and a view of the ocean that she instantly decided was to die for.

"Wow," she said, her gaze drawn to the sun sparkling out on the shimmering water that seemed to go on forever. "What a view. I've never seen anything like it."

Turning his head and taking it in, too, Simon, told her, "It's the reason we built here. We both loved to sail. But I got rid of the boat right after she died since I never felt much like going out on the water without her."

Not sure what to say to that, although she was sorry to hear about his loss, Joy decided it might be best just to take a moment to appreciate the room. Mostly white with a mahogany four-poster bed and a few colorful pink and rose accents, she had to say his late wife's tastes were impeccable. "And this is quite a beautiful room, too," she told him.

Finally he managed a bit of a smile. "Glad you like it."

Not sure what else she should say, she asked, "When would you like me to start?"

Simon almost said, Start what? But thankfully he caught himself.

As glad to have some company, as he was to find someone to help keep his house in order; he told her, "Just so you know, Joy, I don't really expect much of you. All I need is a few meals a day, and if you could keep the house tidy, I'd be happy. And then the rest of the time is basically yours."

Nodding thoughtfully, although pleased to hear that he wouldn't be much of a task master she still wondered how badly he needed help, if by the sounds of what he'd said, he wasn't expecting all that much of her.

She looked at her watch, and seeing as it was just after one, she suggested, "If you haven't had lunch yet, I could fix you something."

Shaking his head, he said, "No, thanks, I don't think I could stomach anything just yet. But if you want anything, feel free to help yourself to whatever you'd like. I wasn't sure what you'd need, so I did a little shopping yesterday, but I can show you where to shop later on if you'd like."

And as she looked into his eyes as he spoke, Simon's gaze settled on hers and he felt almost a sense of d j vu. His late wife Jenny had pretty chestnut brown hair like hers, and was about her height with a similar slender build, and also had surprisingly striking sky blue eyes. And the way she looked at him, kind of wide-eyed, had him remembering the first time he'd ever set eyes on his wife, who'd looked just as innocent and every bit as sweet. "Is anything wrong?" Joy finally asked, wondering why he was staring at her the way he was.

Shaking his head to clear it, he said, "No, nothing's wrong." Then walking towards the door, he said, "Anyway, I'll leave you to get settled, and whenever you're ready I'll show you around."

Watching him leave, she wondered what had upset him, since she could tell the moment he'd first opened the door that he'd been crying, and began to wonder how long it had been since he'd lost his wife.

Careful not to take too long unpacking, Joy found Simon at his computer in his office, sitting behind a beautiful big oak desk. But he didn't seem to be doing much more than staring off into space, at least until she knocked on the door and got his attention, making him quickly turn his head, and ask, "All settled in?"

She nodded. "Yes. So if you'd like to show me around, I'm ready."

They walked to the other end of the house to the kitchen that not surprisingly, was just as beautiful as the rest of the house. And as she looked around, she noticed that everything looked almost brand new, like it had barely been used ; from the state of the art appliances to the deep gray granite counter tops to the rich cherry wood cabinetry. And then she smiled when she saw there was even a view of the lush green forest, right outside the kitchen window. And since she loved to cook, she already knew it would be fun to work in a kitchen like this. And right beside the kitchen was the laundry room, which looked so fresh and clean, everything was just so white with just a few soft well-placed turquois accents. But then she noticed a water bowl on the floor and her eyes lit up, and she smiled at him, and asked, "Oh, do you have a pet?"

Blinking hard, it took Simon a minute to clear his throat and tell her, "I did, until about an hour ago. Just before you got here, I was at the vets having him put down."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Without even thinking, she reached out and ran her hand soothingly over his arm. No wonder he'd been upset and didn't want to answer the door.

Oh god, the poor man ; how much could one person take ; losing his wife and now his dog. She was glad now that she'd come, otherwise he'd be all alone.

Heaving a sigh, he told her, "Beau was twelve, and his kidneys were failing. And he was such a good dog, that I couldn't stand to watch him suffer anymore, so;"

Giving his arm a little squeeze, Joy said, "Of course." She knew having to put a pet down was never easy, and she could really feel for him.

When he looked down and noticed that she still had her hand on his arm, he lifted his gaze to hers and said, "Well, at least it's over with. But taking him in the car for that final ride had to be one of the hardest things I've ever had to do."

"I know," she said, still gently rubbing her hand up and down his arm. "Growing up I always had pets, and I know how much it hurts to lose one." After a few minutes of awkward silence, she tipped her head, and suggested, "Why don't you show me the beach?" And as he was opening the side door, she quickly grabbed the water bowl and tucked it into the cupboard under the laundry tub, so he wouldn't have to see it again.

A Long Walk on the beach.

They walked together along the beach, with her arm looped through his. Already he was finding her surprisingly easy to be with, and not afraid of being close, judging by how comfortably she was walking with him arm in arm. Then he rolled his eyes, thinking back ; unlike the last woman he'd had to let go. Tall, heavyset and bossy, although she was probably only in her forties, for some reason, she thought she had to mother him ; almost to death. And he sure as hell didn't need another mother. But this girl, on the other hand, seemed to be able to balance being compassionate without being overbearing. And already he had a feeling they were going to get along just fine. Providing of course, she didn't start trying to tell him how to live his life. He'd had enough of well-meaning friends and family telling him that it was long past time to stop grieving over losing his wife. Five years might seem like a long time for most people, but being as happily married as they were, he still felt like he'd lost part of himself once she was gone, and every day felt like a challenge just to try to keep living without her, even after so many years.

Sensing he was still in a dark place, Joy squeezed his arm to her side, smiling as they walked along the sand. Turning her face up to the sun, she said, "Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have all this right outside your front door?"

Although he nodded, he hadn't really considered it in a very long time. She was right though, and part of him knew that he should be grateful for a lot of things, even just having his health.

But watching her, he couldn't help noticing how happy she looked just to be out here by the ocean and the way her face lit up when she smiled, had him smiling, too. "I know," he finally agreed, squeezing her arm to pull her a little closer. Funny, but already it felt like they'd known each other for a while. She was nothing like most of the young women he'd known, especially when he was still lecturing, so many of them were just so showy and shallow, only caring about their looks and of course their precious cellphones. He noticed as he looked at her a little more closely that she didn't seem to be wearing any makeup, not that she needed it, with features as perfect as hers. Her high cheeks had a healthy rosy glow and her lips were full and pink. And he decided that she was even prettier than he'd first realized, since she seemed to shine with an inner beauty and warmth that he imagined not every woman naturally possessed.

Finally letting go of his arm, Joy bent and picked up a flat white seashell from the sand, turning it in her hand, her eyes twinkling, she told him, "I think I'll put this in my room to remind me of the day I first walked here with you." With the captivating way she smiled into his eyes, despite how glum he'd been feeling, he found he couldn't help but smile back. She was pretty sweet, and he already had a feeling they were going to enjoy each other's company immensely. And then he felt something stir inside him that he hadn't felt in so long, that he hardly recognized it as the sensation of being attracted to a woman. Not that he'd act on it, especially with her being so young, but it still felt kind of nice to know that he wasn't quite dead yet.

And as he watched her run over to the shore and try and touch the water without getting her feet wet, when she squealed and laughed as a wave crashed ashore and soaked her shoes, making her jump back, for the first time in a long time, he found himself laughing, too. God, she really was a delight, and he decided that she was very aptly named. Then she turned that pretty smile on him, and said, "Oh, well, at least I got to feel the ocean washing over my hand; and my feet. And that's a first, because I've never had a chance to touch the ocean before." Then he watched her slip her tongue out and touch a finger to the end of it to have a taste, telling him, "Oh, and it really is salty isn't it?"

He laughed. "Yeah, it is."

As she happily wrapped her arms around herself, closed her eyes and smiled up at the warmth of the sun on her face, he decided that she was more than just fun, she was like a welcome little ray of sunshine, and could possibly be just what he needed to help him get out of the funk his life had become.

Eventually continuing on their walk along the deserted beach, they conversed like old friends as they strolled together arm in arm. Curious about her, he asked her what she ultimately wanted to do with her life. And when she told him that her dream was to become a successful writer, he smiled nodding his head, knowing just where she was coming from since he'd been hopelessly stuck on finishing the book he'd started just before his wife Jenny had been diagnosed with cancer. And he'd published so many before, that he was beginning to think that he'd lost his touch. So, who knows, maybe she could help him with that, too.

Soup Weather.

Once they finally got back to the house, both of them were quivering a little, feeling chilled, since the beach got cool in February, especially as the day wore on. And seeing her shiver, he noticed once she took her jacket off that he could see her nipples plain as day, pressed hard against her snug pink sweater, he felt that stirring again, as his gaze froze on the enticing sight of her erect little peaks poking at the fabric. And when he finally lifted his gaze and their eyes met, from the warmth he could see in hers, he wondered if she was feeling it, too. But then he gave his head a shake. What was he thinking? She was way too young for him, even if he was interested, which he told himself he wasn't. Of course he hadn't hired her to fool around with, since he really only needed her to try and help keep him sane so that he wouldn't actually become the house hermit everyone had accused him of turning into since Jenny had died.

Then she got his attention when she tipped her head, and said, "Do you like to cook, Simon?"

With a shrug, he said, "I manage to feed myself."

Then she flashed that pretty grin that he was already beginning to enjoy. "Well, how about we make some soup together, then? It sure feels like soup weather to me."

With a nod, he followed her into the kitchen, suddenly very aware of the way her jeans were hugging her tight little ass, and just how amazingly long her legs really were, especially with how enticingly they were encased in skin tight denim. And as he enjoyed the sway of her hips, he began to wonder how fetching she might look if she were out of them. But then he rolled his eyes, a little surprised where his thoughts had taken him, since he hadn't so much as looked at another woman since the day he'd met his wife, over twenty five years ago. And now here he was, shamelessly ogling this young woman that he had no business ogling.

But no matter what he'd told himself, watching her smile at him playfully as she got everything out of the fridge that they'd need, he couldn't stop himself from smiling back. And he enjoyed how effortlessly she joked with him and laughed, even gave him a teasing little hip bump as they worked together side-by-side at the kitchen counter chopping up vegetables. And after she'd taken a bite, she held out a crisp strip of red pepper for him to taste, and said, "Hmm, you have to taste this, Simon, it's just so sweet."

And as he accepted the crunchy morsel, with his gaze fixed on hers as he enjoyed it, he decided that she was even sweeter. And he was beginning to wonder if hiring such a pretty young thing had been such a good idea. It sure wouldn't take much to find himself getting carried away with her, and he had a feeling that no matter where his thoughts were going that she saw him for what he was, a man who was old enough to be her father, and probably nothing more. But he had to admit, it was still fun to work in the kitchen with her, especially since he'd never done it with his wife. Of course Jenny had been such a good cook, that she'd never really encouraged him to help her.

But he noticed as they worked together on creating a huge pot of soup ; that she seemed to be putting together out of her head ; that he found himself laughing more with her than he'd laughed in ages, she was just so much fun and so playful, that it almost felt therapeutic just to be with her.

The year before, he'd seen a shrink at his brother's insistence, who had told him he thought he needed professional help if he was ever going to get over his loss. It turned out to be a total waste of time, since the only words of wisdom the quack had for him, was that time would heal. Yeah, right. He already knew from experience, that time didn'

The Freak: Part 6.

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Thu, 23 Jul 2026 22:39:00 +0000

The Freak: Part 6.

The journey to ever after.

Based on a post by Senor Longo. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

THE FREAK; Part 5; The Conclusion

Over the river and through the woods.

The roads in this part of the Island are narrow two-lane secondary roads with low speed limits and frequent no-passing zones, but the traffic is typically light. I headed west until I ran into Route 25A. It runs along the North Shore all the way from Queens to Riverhead, the Suffolk County seat. From Riverhead the bungalow was only a half-hour away. There was no driveway so I drove onto the lawn, parking next to Mom s car, just before lunch. Carole and my other sisters ran out to see us and Kelly was excited to see them, as well. All the same, I slipped her leash onto the collar before letting her out. She sniffed Marie and Angela then licked Carole s face as I handed her the leash s handle. She ran off, leading our pet into the house. Barbara was laughing. Quite a welcome, eh?

Pretty much what I expected; they ve wanted a dog for years, but my mom always said no. Maybe she ll change her mind one of these days. I leaned across the seat and we kissed. Unfortunately, that was all we d be able to do over the next week unless we walked down to the beach late at night, maybe for an evening swim. Hmmm, that was a really good idea.

I carried our suitcase and Kelly s bed into the house while Barbara handled her food and bowls. I dumped the bottle of water that we d brought for her onto the lawn after closing up the car. We never locked anything here, not even the front door when we left for the beach or shopping. I dropped everything in what used to be my room while Barbara set up Kelly s bowls in the kitchen.

We changed into our suits and walked down to the beach after lunch. Mom was really old-school, insisting that none of us swim for at least an hour after eating even though I had debunked that as an old wives tale for years. Once again, my experiences at the public library had proven fruitful. My research had turned up more than a dozen articles; some scholarly; on the subject and all were contrary to the idea that digesting food could lead to a fatal stomach cramp. Barbara and I joked with my sisters as we strolled down the path.

Our first trip to the beach had been in late March when the weather was cool. Today the temperature was in the mid-to-high eighties with only a light breeze. It was Barbara s first opportunity to see the beach s real appeal. Looking to the left and right from the bottom of the steps we couldn t see another living soul for almost a mile. The water was glass flat and the tide was coming in. I liked low tide for snorkeling and spear-fishing, but there were lots of rocks; some as big as a foot across only eight to ten feet from shore at low tide. There were only tiny pebbles and sand to walk on at high tide. However, I knew from experience that stepping on those tiny objects would hurt like hell once our feet were wet and the skin was soft. That s why I had told Barbara to wear flip-flops to and from the water.
We had just placed the blanket onto the sand when Barbara smiled at me and said, I can see why you love it here, Jack. I can t believe that the water is so clear and clean.

It should be exactly like this every day unless the wind shifts and we get a nor easter. Then the water will be rough and cloudy for a day or two. I d have to say that high tide will be around four today. That means it will be later at night by the weekend. We can come down after dinner and go for a swim. It s only safe at high tide because of the rocks. Of course, there are other things we could do here on the beach; alone; together; in the dark.

Imagination; that s only one of the reasons why I love you. She reached up to kiss me then we walked together into the warm water.

We swam out about fifty feet. It was my first chance to see Barbara swim. She d never make the Olympics, but I thought she was much better than average. We swam and floated and showed our love for each other, getting out of the water only when we began to get cold. Even then I was recruited by Carole to be her diving platform. I lifted her so she could stand on my shoulders, only letting her dive when I knew she was in deep enough water. I stood there helping her for almost twenty minutes before I picked her up and threw her bodily into the water. J.J.! She acted as though she was pissed, but we both knew better. A few seconds later she began to laugh and I joined her as Barbara stood to towel me dry.

I showed Barbara the rock I had told her about; the one we could dive from once the tide was high enough. We walked there around 3:30, climbing up the rear of the rock and diving off the deeper front then swimming back up its smooth sloped surface. We were on the rock when Barbara asked, Where is our lot, Jack?

I pointed to a long staircase that ran from almost the top of the bluff to the beach s surface about two hundred feet away. That staircase belongs to my friend Mike s family. You haven t met him yet, but you will. He s in the Navy now, but he lives there with his mother and grandmother. Anyway, our lot is just to the right of his; figure about 100 feet from the staircase. I pointed so Barbara could see more clearly. We left the beach at five so we could walk up, and wash at the shower just outside the kitchen window. Once on the concrete base we could wash and dry ourselves without walking grass or dirt into the house.

After dinner I suggested we get Carvel for dessert. Not surprisingly, everyone enthusiastically agreed. We closed the doors to keep Kelly inside and everyone piled into the Olds for the fifteen minute ride to Rocky Point. Most of us ordered cones, but Mom insisted that Carole get a cup; she was a slow and sloppy eater. We stood outside, leaning against the car as we joked and enjoyed our treats. It was dark and almost time for Carole to go to bed when we returned to the bungalow. That s when we learned that she would sleep in her sleeping bag in the room with my other sisters. You deserve to have some privacy, but please remember that my head is only a foot or so from your bed so DO try to keep the noise down. I laughed, but I could see the twinkle in Barbara s eyes. We turned in early because we had an early appointment with Mark Hanley, my friend s brother-in-law.

We drove into Rocky Point again early the following morning to buy some pastries from the local bakery. Their donuts and Danish were great, but my favorite was the fruit ring; a 12-inch Danish crust filled with cherry, blueberry, and pineapple fillings. Everyone loved it so I bought two. We left to meet Mark at 8:50, walking down the hill to our lot.

We wore jeans because the lot had yet to be cleared and there was almost certainly going to be a lot of poison ivy. Mark was right on time. We shook hands and walked onto the lot which I knew from the survey was two thirds of an acre; 150 feet by almost 195 with the land sloping up from the road to the top of the bluff. First, we talked about where to locate the house so we d have a yard in the front and back then we got into the details of what we wanted; a family room and attached two-car garage, living and dining rooms, kitchen, two full bathrooms, and four bedrooms. We also wanted a screened porch in back where we could sit and enjoy the view. We don t know much about floor plans so we ll leave it to you to come up with some ideas. He agreed and gave us a few which we incorporated into the drawings he would make for us within the next week.

Both Barbara and I had orientation scheduled for the second full week of September so we planned to stay on Long Island for almost all of the week of Labor Day before driving back to Somerville. We d have the beach entirely to ourselves. The summer season ends on Labor Day which I had always thought was a shame because the weather in September is ideal for the beach and the water is perfectly warm; for Long Island, anyway.

Mark phoned three days later, telling us that he had a few books of floor plans and had made a few scale drawings using them as a guide. He came the following morning at ten, spreading several large sheets of graph paper on the table for us to look at. He had given us exactly what we wanted and more. The basement held a two-car garage on the right with a large family room and small kitchenette on one side with a laundry room and lavatory behind a wall on the other. Also there was the oil burner and hot water heater and room for a workshop and storage.

Upstairs the house was shaped in a U with the dining room, eat-in kitchen, and another lavatory on the left. The center was a large living room with sliding glass doors leading out to the screened porch. The other side held the master suite, three smaller bedrooms, and another full bath. Mark explained that he thought a vaulted ceiling in the living room and master bedroom would be interesting touches if our budget could handle them. He also suggested a tray ceiling in the dining room so we could have a real chandelier.

He also showed us a typical colonial house, but commented that we d have to remove a lot of soil to accommodate it. I thought that was a bad idea and told him so. He agreed, saying, I have to show clients a variety of plans and I always list the pro s and con s. You beat me to the punch on that one. Barbara liked the U-shaped house so we asked him to put together a formal proposal.

I remembered to ask about access to the attic, thinking about storage and Mark agreed to add a regular staircase rather than folding stairs near the kitchen to that area, also suggesting that his men place plywood flooring up there to accommodate us. Barbara asked if we could add doors from our bedroom to the screened porch. Mark agreed that would be a good idea. I knew that there would be dozens of additional decisions as the house progressed, but we weren t that far away. He returned the Tuesday after Labor Day with an estimate of $93,000. I wrote a check for $20,000 as a down payment when we signed the contract.

Barbara and I took my sisters out for miniature golf and banana splits on Thursday night and on Friday we gave Mom and Dad who had driven out after work the night off by taking them out to the drive-in. It was a family movie; a comedy; that we all enjoyed although Big C fell asleep long before it was over. I carried her into the house around eleven then Barbara, Kelly, and I went for a late night swim.

The walk down the path was aided by a flashlight as Kelly capered back and forth in front of us. I knew that I d have to check her for ticks tomorrow, but that wouldn t take more than half an hour; less with Barbara s help.

Once on the beach Barbara came into my open arms for the most passionate kiss of our trip. We d had sex our first night; oral, a sixty-nine to keep the noise under control. Tonight we d make glorious love under the moonlight, maybe in the water. That would be a first for both of us.

I led my fantastic wife down to the water. The tide was ebbing, but was still high enough to enter the water safely. We had worn our suits, but they dropped to the ground in an instant. Holding hands we walked together into the water as Kelly scampered back and forth, barking, but not getting any deeper than her paws.

I began by massaging Barbara s ass as we came together for a long steamy kiss. Her arms were around my neck and her legs around my waist. I moved my hands to massage what I thought were the perfect breasts, knowing that Barbara loved the sensation of my hands on her nipples and areolas. She got down to business by gripping my hard cock and bringing it to her molten tunnel. I was initially concerned about whether she would be lubricated, but my fears were unfounded. She shimmied down my shaft easily, moaning in ecstasy the entire time.

Barbara laid back, floating while her legs moved up my torso. I must have been hitting that spot I hit when her legs were over my shoulders. I was driving into her at a brisk pace, but she was moving even faster. I thought it funny at the time that we were making one hell of a wave with every thrust. There was white foam all around us and that s not all. Our every movement resulted in a pale green light coming from the numerous comb jellies in the water.

Unlike jellyfish, comb jellies have no stinging cells and, in fact, have no tentacles. They re basically filter feeders on plankton as they drift on the tide. There were probably millions or even billions in Long Island Sound, but unless you actually look for them you d never know.

We went at it furiously for only five minutes until I felt the familiar rumbling and Barbara shook wildly. I knew that she had cum when she screamed at the top of her lungs. The sound bounced off the bluffs probably for miles as I pumped her full of frothy white semen. I lowered her legs and held her tenderly for another ten minutes until she began to laugh. We are definitely doing this again. I loved it, but I love you even more. Then she showed it once again by kissing me, her tongue deep into my mouth.

The rest of the trip passed quickly as we spent our days at the beach and our evenings entertaining my sisters, our late nights back on the beach making the most incredible; the most fantastic; love with my wife. Dad left early Tuesday morning as he did every week in order to get to work in time to eat some breakfast. We packed Mom s car with the suitcases in the morning and they left just after lunch. Barbara and I were alone except for Kelly as we waved good-bye to my family. We stayed until Thursday morning when I turned the water off, draining it out the hose cock and throwing the circuit breakers to turn off the electricity. Then I double checked the windows and front door before locking up the kitchen door and joining Barbara in the Olds with Kelly in the rear seat.

The drive to Orient Point took just over an hour so we were early for our 11:00 reservation. I put the leash on Kelly and walked her near the beach on the side away from the ferry dock. She did her business and I dutifully cleaned up. We returned to the car just as the ferry was pulling in. Ten minutes later we were onboard and sitting on deck in the warm sun, knowing that we d be in the shade once the boat turned around. We relaxed for the hour-long trip then drove north on I-95; the New England Thruway; all the way to Boston then west to Somerville.

Kelly was obviously thrilled to be home. I had just parked in the garage when Barbara led her to the gate that enclosed the back yard. She bolted in, running around the perimeter at a wild pace causing us and our neighbor Paul, two yards away, to laugh wildly. I ll be over in a few minutes with your mail. We had just walked into the house when he rang the bell. We thanked him several times, but he just shrugged it off telling us that s what good neighbors do for each other. All the same we thanked him again, shaking hands before he left.

We had a great weekend, taking Kelly into Boston for a stroll along the Charles River. We were stopped often by young children who asked if they could pet her. We went through the ritual of having her sit while I held her collar, sniffing the kids hands, and then the energetic petting. It was great seeing the laughter and joy in the children s faces. Twice kids were afraid until I showed that Kelly would never bite them by pushing my arm into her mouth.

Barbara and I made love; frantic monkey love; every night and every morning until Sunday when we spent the entire afternoon in bed, showering right after dinner and setting out our clothes tor Monday morning; the first day of orientation.

I personally thought that most of it was a waste of time, but I did find the campus tour helpful as were the placement exams in English, math, and Spanish. I was exempted from Freshman English and from the math requirement. I was placed in Spanish 4 which I thought was appropriate. Barbara told me that she enjoyed her campus tour even though it was quite short. She found the placement exams challenging. On the positive side her freshman mixer was on Wednesday night while mine was on Thursday.

I was challenged at the door to the gym where the mixer was held because I obviously had no Lesley Student ID. This is my wife who is a student here. She wants to attend so she can meet some of the other freshmen. However, she is not going without me, just as I will not attend my mixer tomorrow evening without her. Don t worry; I m not going to cause any trouble. I pushed my way past him as Barbara and I entered the large open expanse. There was a huge canvas tarp over the gym floor, I assumed to protect the finish of the floor and there were several hundred chairs in a long continuous row all around the perimeter of the room. Canteens with soda and snacks had been set up at both ends of the basketball court.

I led Barbara over to the opposite side for no reason other than to keep the entryway clear. We had a seat for a few minutes before getting up to dance. I was reminded of junior high with the boys and girls on opposite sides, neither quite willing to venture into hostile foreign territory so Barbara and I were the only dancers. That was okay with us. I had my hands around her succulent body while she moved into mine as closely as humanly possible.

We had danced five slow and two fast dances when Barbara told me she was thirsty. I left her at the seats and walked over to the nearest canteen where I pulled two cold Coke cans from an ice-filled cooler. I saw that Barbara had acquired an admirer as I returned.

I m flattered, but I m really not interested.

You re saying no, but we both know that you really mean yes.

No, I m definitely saying no to you. I mean it. Leave me alone. I m a married woman. Barbara held up her hand to show her rings.

Then I heard her suitor respond. Hey! That s okay; I love married women. There s no substitute for experience.

That may be, but I think my husband would not approve. Oh, here he is now.

I handed the Cokes over to her as the jerk turned around. I had a scowl on my face as I reached out, taking his shirt and tie in my left hand. This is your lucky day, little man. There was terror etched into his face as I lifted him bodily off the floor and for good reason. I was at least eight inches taller and sixty pounds heavier and I was obviously all muscle while he was not. I promised at the door that I wouldn t cause any trouble so I m not going to take you apart. You were told no, weren t you? No means she s not interested so a gentleman would just turn around and try somewhere else. There are probably at least a hundred good looking girls here tonight. So, why don t you try your luck with those girls over there? I pointed to a group of about ten standing about thirty feet away. It goes without saying that you ll never approach my wife again. I m right next door at Harvard and I promise I ll hunt you down like a mad dog if I hear even a single complaint from her lips. Do we understand each other? He nodded quickly.

I slowly lowered him to the floor, brushing away the wrinkles I had made in his clothes. Reaching into my pocket I found a ten dollar bill and pushed it into the pocket of his suit. You ll need to have this suit and shirt cleaned and pressed. Now; get lost! He did and that was the time I noticed the puddle he d made. Looking at Barbara I laughed. I think we need to find some new seats. There s a bit of a mess here. She laughed, too then handed one of the cans to me. I opened it and took a long pull before leading Barbara away.

Barbara waved to two girls who seemed to be walking toward us. I met them at the tour and again during the placement exams. They re both from Massachusetts. Barbara introduced me to Darla and Marianne. Even I had to admit that Darla was built like a brick shithouse. I might have been interested if not for Barbara. We chatted for a while until I volunteered to get some more sodas and some chips for all of us.

How can you handle all that, Marianne asked. Then, to show her I held up my hands. Each of mine made three of hers. They laughed as I turned and walked toward the canteen, returning a few minutes later with four cans of Coke in one hand and two bowls; one of potato chips and another with pretzels in the other. Barbara took the bowls so I could distribute the Coke cans. As a surprise I then removed four cups; two in each of my suit s pockets, then pouring ice cubes from one to the other. In a minute we all had Coke on ice. The girls all laughed as Marianne asked, Is there no limit to what you can do?

The Freak: Part 5.

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Wed, 22 Jul 2026 22:38:00 +0000

The Freak: Part 5.

We begin our life together.

Based on a post by Senor Longo. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

The house looks nice, Jack.

I m sure it is, but I doubt we ll live there. He doesn t want to do it. He was looking for an excuse not to. He also thinks he can cheat us out of a thousand dollars. Once he gets his hands on that money we ll never get it back.

Can he do that?

He ll come up with some phantom problem and we ll have to go to court to get it back. It s a good location, but I m sure Mr. Silverman will advise us not to get involved.

Sure enough, that s exactly what he told me. Stay away from that jerk, Jack. We ll find something else. And he did. By Wednesday the real estate agent he was using had found us a house to share with a widow. She was pleasant and offered to cook our meals for a small fee if I would agree to maintain the yard and her flower beds. It was a winning proposition for both of us. She; Mrs. Mazzone; had a bedroom and bathroom on the first floor along with the kitchen and living room that she was willing to share while Barbara and I had a good-sized bedroom, bath, and a smaller room where we could study on the second.

Barbara and I walked into the high school main office at 7:45 Monday morning where we were greeted by Mrs. Cecil. Morning, Jack; and you must be Barbara. I know that Mr. Wickers isn t too happy, but I think what you did was wonderful.

Thanks, Mrs. Cecil. Here are Barbara s records and here s a note in regard to Wednesday.

You re appearing before the grand jury? Oh, my! I guess that really will be a legal excuse, won t it? Then she laughed and her laugh brought our asshole principal out from his office.

I m not very happy with you, Mr. French!

I really don t care, Mr. Wickers. I want Barbara to be here and she is. I m taking her down to see Mrs. Costello now. You ll find out soon enough what kind of person she is. I took Barbara by the arm and led her away.

Oh, Jack; I m so sorry. I m nothing but trouble for you.

I pulled her into the lobby where there were several large pillars. Standing behind one I told her, I don t ever want to hear you say that again. I love you, Barbara, and I m thrilled to be married to you. Wickers is a pretty good principal most of the time, but he s also a real asshole sometimes and this is one of those times. Mr. Silverman saw the superintendent last week and he passed the word down to Wickers. His reaction is exactly what I thought it would be. I leaned down for a quick kiss that, fortunately, was unobserved and walked Barbara down the hall to see Mrs. Costello, the guidance counselor.

Unlike Mr. Wickers she was warm and welcoming. She spent a few minutes asking Barbara what she was studying at St. Claudia s. Then she created a schedule for Barbara. She would be in my homeroom and my English and history classes, but while I was taking calculus she was taking advanced algebra and she was also taking chemistry instead of physics. Spanish 3 and physical education rounded out her schedule.

We were walking to the lockers when she asked me, What is physical education?

It s a chance to get good and sweaty in the gym. I ll have to ask Mom where to get a gym suit for you. Maybe Angela has one that will fit you. Let s find your locker. I think it ll be right across the hall from mine. It was, and it took me a minute or two to show her how it worked. In that time several of my classmates came over to say hello and welcome Barbara to the school. We were only a minute late to homeroom and we were all amused when Mrs. Snyder asked Barbara if she was related to me.

We re not blood relatives, Ma am. We have the same name because we re married. Mrs. Snyder was shocked and everyone chuckled, remembering that all-out laughing wasn t appropriate in school.

I made a brief explanation, telling her that all would become clear within the next month or so then Barbara took a seat near the rear of the room where there was an empty seat. This was a big room; big enough to hold every senior in the school. That came in handy when we had to make announcements to the class or discuss some class activity.

I was headed to physics first period while Barbara had Spanish. Marlene offered to help her find the classroom. We parted with a quick hug and the next time I saw her was fourth period in English with Mrs. Wohl. By then she knew all about Barbara s presence. She added Barbara to her roll book and told her to take a seat wherever she could find one. Marlene was sitting next to me and got up to allow Barbara to sit there while she found another seat a few rows back.

You d be disappointed if you thought there would be any shenanigans between us. We had plenty of that at home and our situation with Mrs. Mazzone was better than we had anticipated. I know you were married only two weeks ago and, believe it or not, I was young once too so don t worry about making a bit of noise at night. I m sure you get my meaning. We did and we still made love every night and many mornings, too. In return we always received a beaming smile from our landlady.

We actually attended one class Wednesday morning before leaving school for our drive to the Yonkers PD. Lieutenant Flanagan was waiting for us and whisked us into his sedan only a minute later. He was all business as he described what would happen. I ll have to testify first. Basically, the district attorney handling the case will ask a simple question and it will be our responsibility to flesh out the answer. Don t embellish and be honest in what you say and all will go well. Relax and don t be nervous. There is no cross examination at the grand jury. Did I explain that to you?

Yes, I said with a little chuckle. I think you re even more nervous than we are.

If I am it s for Barbara. I m sure she doesn t like reliving that horrible experience.

You re right, Lieutenant, but if it will help stop those atrocities I ll tell the story a thousand times.

You re a brave young woman, Barbara. I ll try to get Jack to testify first so he can be with you while you testify.

I hadn t realized that we had to go all the way to White Plains, the county seat, so it was almost 10:00 by the time we had arrived. Lt. Flanagan led us inside until we were stopped by several court officers who wanted to see our ID. Flanagan flashed his badge and ID card and Barbara and I pulled our wallets to show our driver s licenses. Only after emptying our pockets and Barbara s purse were we allowed to pass. I was somewhat concerned until Lt. Flanagan assured us that it was to insure privacy and confidentiality of the grand jury s proceedings.

We were about halfway down the hall when a door opened and we saw a woman I guessed was in her mid-thirties approach us. She greeted Lt. Flanagan who introduced her as ADA Linda Koslowsky. We shook hands and she reviewed what would happen even though Lt. Flanagan had just done that in the car. She agreed to the order he had suggested, telling us not to become anxious due to the delay. The grand jury is always deliberate, she said with a chuckle. By deliberate I really mean slow. Not only do I ask questions, but they sometimes do, too and their questions can really go far afield of the issues. But this is the process we use and it s been in existence for hundreds of years so it must work. With that she led Lt. Flanagan away.

Barbara and I sat in the uncomfortable seats for more than an hour until she reappeared to bring me into the room. I kissed Barbara and walked in, showing my surprise when the door locked behind me. There were a lot of people seated in rows that rose in four tiers. I thought that there were at least forty, but that was just a guess. A clerk approached and I was sworn in. That was when I first noticed the judge off to the left of the jury. Once seated, the ADA asked for my name, address, age, and a few facts about my high school experiences.

I described both my academic and athletic achievements; I was a bit taken aback when one of the jurors asked if I was the one who had made All-American. Yes, sir; that was me. I was named All-American the past two seasons. Then Mrs. Kozlowski questioned me about my involvement in the case at hand. I explained how and why I had proposed to Barbara and I described the ring in detail; size and color of the stone, its quality, and the type of setting and band. Lt. Flanagan had already produced the receipt and I stated clearly that it was the one I had received from Harry Winston in Manhattan. I couldn t testify about what had occurred in the school. Barbara had to do that, but I did tell about volunteering to go to the school office wearing the wire that could record the conversation.

We listened to the tape in the school office and I swore that it was an honest and complete record of what had transpired. I answered several questions from the ADA and several more from some jurors. Then I repeated with the same set of questions about my visit to Monsignor Moran. I was about to step down when one elderly woman asked why I had married Barbara. First of all, I love her very much and have almost from the moment we met. She s an incredible person. Secondly, I felt that I had to protect her. Her foster parents are very caring people, but they are blind to any wrongs that may be committed by the leaders of their church. They still have difficulty believing that Barbara was whipped by this nun even after viewing the photographs you have seen this morning. They would have forced her to return to that school where she might have been further tortured. Would you have allowed someone you loved to endure that kind of treatment? I knew that I wouldn t and couldn t. I was excused from the stand, but was not required to leave the room. Instead, I stood just inside the door where I hugged Barbara as soon as she stepped in. I could see that she was frightened and that nothing I could do would calm her.

She had just taken the oath when the jury forewoman spoke. I can see that you re nervous. You have nothing to fear, my dear. We are here to help you, not hurt you. Just tell us what happened to you. Tell us everything. Will you, please? Barbara seemed more relaxed when she sat and I reached out to take her hand. Barbara responded now to the questions from Mrs. Kozlowski, slowly rebuilding the events of that fateful Monday. She seemed to gather herself as she spoke. I could feel her strength in her hand grow as she progressed from the theft of her ring to the horrendous beating she had received at the hands of the nun who should have been her caring teacher. She told how she drove frantically to my parents house, how my mother had phoned the school and how I had responded immediately. She described her experience in the emergency room and how I had cared for her afterwards.

Barbara was excused after she had testified for an hour. ADA Kozlowski thanked us for our time and testimony. I have no doubt that there will be indictments against all three of these monsters. I know these people. Half of them are Catholic and they hate the thought that their priests and nuns would behave in such a despicable and unchristian way. I ll be in touch with you by Friday, Lieutenant. I think you can plan to act within the next week. She thanked us again and Lt. Flanagan led us back to his car.

I ll take you out to lunch then I think you should go home and rest. You ve been through a meat grinder, Barbara. You re a very brave young woman. I gave him our new phone number, the one we d had installed in Mrs. Mazzone s home even though she had tried to convince us to use hers as our own. I drove Barbara back to what was for now our home and put her to bed, lying with her until she was asleep then I rose and went downstairs to speak with Mrs. Mazzone.

It must have been very difficult for her.

It was. She s much braver than I could ever be. To relive those horrible moments over and over; I think she can feel the lashes of that whip even worse than she did that infamous day. I can t wait for this horrible episode to be behind us. That s one of the reasons why I want us to move to Massachusetts. She needs to be busy, studying as well as building our life together. She needs more work than high school can provide.

She needs time more than anything else. I thought I would die when my dear Louis passed away. Now, almost three years later I know that I still love him, but we were not meant to grow old together. I still miss him, especially at night when I am alone, but it gets easier every day. The same will happen with Barbara. Just be sure to be there always for her.

You need never worry about that.

The next three months passed swiftly, but not without a number of spectacular highlights. Barbara made her way into the yearbook; just barely when I phoned Carolyn who was the editor the afternoon after her beating. There was an April 1 deadline unless we were willing to pay a penalty. I phoned a local photographer and made arrangements for her to be photographed and for the photos to be rushed to Carolyn s home. I trusted her to pick the best, although they were all excellent. I also knew that Carolyn would write something appropriate, in consideration of her late enrollment. She did exactly that, noting that Barbara s most outstanding senior moment was, Kissing my husband Jack after winning the state basketball championship. Funny; that was my most outstanding moment, too.

It was only six days after our appearance before the grand jury that Lt. Flanagan and a squad of police appeared at St. Claudia s School. There were arrests; Sister Mary Theresa in the main office and Sister Mary Patrick removed kicking and fighting from her classroom immediately; and two others after the records so vainly kept by a series of self-serving principals had been examined. Also found was a small treasure of purloined jewelry in the desk and dresser of Sister Mary Patrick as well as the three other nuns; baubles stolen over the decades from innocent and unsuspecting students and their families. Barbara s ring was in Sister Mary Patrick s desk. The blood-soaked whip was easily found on a hook in her closet.

Lt. Flanagan then took a small group of officers to the archdiocese offices to arrest Msgr. Moran. The list of charges went on for four pages, rivaling only those of the two nuns. Not surprisingly, the Cardinal denied any knowledge of the allegations. Barbara and I watched almost everything on the six o clock news that evening, declining an invitation from the District Attorney to witness the arrests.

As I had anticipated, Stanley Silverman instituted a class action lawsuit on behalf of the three hundred and seventy-six victims, some of whom were old enough to be grandparents now, using the list to identify and locate them. The suit claimed compensatory damages of more than eight hundred million dollars and unspecified punitive damages. He held a major press conference on the steps of the State Courthouse in which he fervently expressed his ire at the actions of the so-called professionals parents had entrusted with their daughters. He wanted Barbara and me there, but we politely declined. We d done enough.

I had always gone fishing over the Memorial Day weekend so when I asked if I could use the bungalow my parents agreed immediately. We were at dinner two Sundays prior and Carole actually begged to join us. I think that Jack and Barbara would enjoy some time alone, Mom told her. But Barbara and I had anticipated her request and agreed if we could get Carole out of school a bit early on Friday afternoon. Thus, Barbara drove from school to my parents home on Thursday to get Carole s clothes for the weekend then she drove into Tuckahoe to get me after our game.
Unfortunately, we weren t going to the playoffs. I d had a good year on the mound, pitching my way to a 4-1 record and a 2.05 ERA while batting for a .420 average on exactly 21 for 50. Our other two pitchers, however, had losing records and of my teammates, only Tony had a decent batting average. Even Eli who had made All-County with me last year had been mired in a season-long slump, barely batting .200.

We left the high school at 2:00 and picked Carole up only five minutes later. She was elated to be with us and we always enjoyed being with her, too. We reached the bungalow by four, stopping in nearby Rocky Point to pick up some hooks and sinkers as well as a dozen sand worms, the preferred bait for blackfish in the spring. Blacks live in rocky areas so the north shore of Long Island is almost ideal with the millions of rocks large and small pushed down from New England by the ancient glaciers.

The first thing I did was strip the monofilament from my spinning reel and re-spool with new twenty-pound test mono. When that was done I took my two girls out for a quick dinner; pizza. Mom knew that we were now practicing Lutherans so meat on Friday was not only acceptable, it was the norm. We had a special dispensation as a result. Carole liked pepperoni while I liked sausage. Barbara, ever the diplomat, would accept both so we ordered a large half and half and a couple of Cokes. Getting to the restaurant early meant we could eat quickly and get back to try fishing while there was still daylight.

I made my first cast and stood still, my long rod resting on my thigh. Barbara and Carole amused themselves by playing tag. Somehow Carole was always able to catch Barbara, but Barbara had the utmost difficulty catching her eight year-old sister-in-law. They were laughing like crazy when I had my first bite. This kind of fishing takes patience. The first tug occurs when the fish mouths the bait. Strike then and you ll catch nothing. You re only pulling the hook out of the fish s mouth. I ve done this for years so I was ready for the second powerful tug. A strong pull on the rod set the hook. I always file the point so it s razor sharp. Blackfish have thick fleshy lips so a sharp hook is a real advantage. I pulled it easily to the shore, knowing as I did that I would release it. Sure enough it was a lightweight. It was only out of the water for seconds before it swam away.

The fishing was great for the next hour as I caught and kept two fish over five pounds; a gift for Mrs. Mazzone. I cleaned them at the water s edge, removing the head and the entrails then turning the knife over and scraping it against the scales to remove them. Finally, I used an old set of kitchen shears to remove the fins. I washed my hands and my tools and we were ready to hike up the path. I d never found walking up the path at night to be terribly difficult because there was usually ambient light from the moon and stars. It was really dark once we were under the trees, but the path was surprisingly easy to see because of the contrast between the white sand and the dark green plants that appeared black at night. Barbara got Carole ready for bed while I washed the fish, dried them with a clean rag then wrapped them in aluminum foil for the refrigerator.

We hugged and kissed Carole as we tucked her in and then she asked the big question, Barbara, where are you and J.J. going to sleep?

Right over here in Jack s bed.

Both of you? In that little bed?

Yup! And there will still be room for you in the morning. Okay?

Apparently it was because Carole smiled, hugged Barbara and me one last time and rolled over to sleep. Barbara and I retreated to the living room where we sat quietly reading some of my parents extensive library of paperbacks. Only when we were sure that she was soundly asleep did we shower and make love, with Barbara seated securely on the kitchen counter, me standing between her legs. Barbara had taken a small towel from the linen closet to stifle her usual orgasmic scream. We retired as we did every night with Barbara s head on my chest and her leg over my thigh. There was one huge difference though; we were wearing t-shirts and gym shorts because of Carole s presence.

We fished again on Saturday, this time with my friends, but at night we took Carole to the drive-in movie in nearby Rocky Point. She played in the playground before the movie and enjoyed the cartoons, but lay down on the rear seat under a small blanket once they had ended.

We took Carole with us to the Lutheran church with Mom s blessing then fished all Sunday afternoon. Blackfish are funny. Sometimes you can fish all day and catch nothing, not even getting a single bite. Other times you can t reel the fish in fast enough. The afternoon was a washout, but after dinner it was hotter than I d ever seen. I must have caught twenty fish and

The Freak: Part 4.

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Tue, 21 Jul 2026 22:36:00 +0000

The Freak: Part 4.

My day of revenge.

Based on a post by Senor Longo. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

THE FREAK; Part 4

That happened much earlier that I had thought. She and Mr. Gleason were at the house at eight the following morning, arriving just before my Aunt Debbie and Uncle Dave with my cousins. We left the house at 8:35 in three cars; Mr. and Mrs. Gleason with my parents and Angela, the cousins with Aunt Debbie and Uncle Dave, and my remaining two sisters with Barbara and me. Angela volunteered to get on line if necessary as we would be about ten minutes later due to picking up Eli.

Once down in the Village I turned right at the playground, the site of some really intense basketball games. So far as I knew, I was the only white guy to play there without hearing plenty of jibes and insults. Then again, there wasn t one other player who could keep up with me. After the playground I made another left and a right before pulling into Eli s driveway. Carole squeezed out from the back seat and sprinted up the sidewalk. The front door opened just as she arrived and Eli scooped her up into his arms.

Hey there, Big C; I hear you re in the wedding, too. Then he hugged her, giving her a big kiss. Carole loved when he called her Big C, especially because she was by far the smallest in our family. Eli greeted us as he pulled the seat forward for Carole and squeezed into the front passenger seat next to Barbara and me.

How s your back, Barbara? You really look beautiful; unfortunately, there s nothing special about you Freak. Did you comb that head with an egg beater this morning?

At least I never had the stupidity to get a Mohawk.

Ouch! That hurt! But it really is an honor to be with you this morning. I think all the guys and their girlfriends are going to be there, too.

Barbara leaned over to kiss Eli s cheek and laughed. Jack told me about the Mohawk. Wow, is your mother strict!

Yeah, but looking at how some of the other kids behave I m glad she is. They have no discipline; no self-control. I see nothing but trouble for most of them. It ll be too late by the time they finally grow up. Enough of this negativity; where are you going for your honeymoon?

We re leaving this afternoon for my parents bungalow. It s not much, but we ll have quiet and privacy.

More importantly, we ll have each other, Barbara said as she reached up to kiss my cheek. I turned left at the light onto White Plains Road and less than ten minutes later I was parking in the Town Hall lot. Angela was right there first in line with two couples behind her. We took her place with an apology to those behind us. They assured us it was not a problem and that Angela had told them that she was holding the spot for her brother. I gave her a hug as we took our place in line.

We hadn t been there five minutes when I heard a clamor behind us. All of my school friends and some of Barbara s; no doubt the work of Mrs. Gleason; walked in. I was proud when I saw that they were all in suits and dresses. I would have walked over to thank them, but the door opened at that very second. Barbara and I walked in with Eli and Carole right behind us. I showed our license and our judicial waiver, and paid the fee, handing Eli the rings before a quick request to the clerk and stepping forward to meet the Justice. I shook his hand, slipping him a twenty that he calmly slipped into his pocket. He did laugh when he saw the crowd, but took charge, telling everyone where to stand. My family and Mr. and Mrs. Gleason had prime locations. Eli stood to my right; Carole to Barbara s left.

I had worn my navy suit as stated, but I was surprised to find it newly pressed as was my shirt AND tie. Barbara was stunning in a silver-white short-sleeved dress that was mostly form-fitting with a loose matching vest /jacket that ended at her waist over the bodice. Her coordinating heels were a great match and her diamond and opal jewelry set went with the outfit perfectly, as well.

I listened carefully to every word the Justice said, repeating word-for-word the oath of love and loyalty, forsaking all others gladly and loudly, proclaiming my love for Barbara, followed immediately by Barbara proclaiming her undying love for me. Eli produced the rings on time and Carole smiled broadly through the entire brief ceremony. It ended to nobody s surprise with the command to kiss the bride. I had intended a quick relatively chaste kiss, but Barbara grabbed my head, pressed our lips together, and held it for more than ten seconds before pulling back to whisper, I love you more than I can ever say so I m going to show you every single moment of every single day. We turned and walked out, making room for the next group of four people even as I slipped the clerk another twenty in trade for a legal-sized envelope with the typed documents I had requested.

Once outside Dad startled me by inviting everyone back to the house. We ll have deli meats and bread and a host of salads. There s soda and beer and even the hard stuff and we re hoping you will all come.

When I reached home I learned that Mom had ordered everything including delivery yesterday while Barbara and I were getting our license. Two of our closest neighbors had taken the delivery and organized everything.

The house was jammed with people even though my parents house is large; not mansion large, but close. The living room alone is almost 600 square feet and when you add in the dining room, kitchen, breakfast nook, and my bedroom/family room at the rear the total was well over 1,000. I was standing with Eli, sipping a Coke, while Barbara spoke to a few of her friends from school. They told her that some absurd story had been created to explain her sudden departure. I overheard one of the girls refer to the nun as the troll. It must have been a commonly used name because the other three nodded their heads in agreement.

I would have laughed had Eli not spoken. You re a lucky guy, Freak. She is an incredible woman. She s beautiful, intelligent, has a killer body, and it s obvious that she is totally in love with you.

You re right, Eli. The day I met her was the luckiest day of my life; until today, anyway. There was no way I was going to let her get away from me. He clapped me on the back and left to tickle Big C before grabbing a sandwich from the dining room table. Angela started the phonograph and as soon as I heard Sea of Love I moved the latest Mrs. French to dance.

We held each other closely as I whispered, Come with me, my love; to the sea; the sea of love; I want to tell you how much I love you; . I was pleased when Barbara pulled me even closer to her body. The message was clear; I belong to you; everything; all of me.

I saw my sister Marie taking plenty of photos, spending Dad s money freely. I knew she was on at least her third roll of film. We ate and danced and received the well wishes of our friends and family, but at 1:45 we disappeared upstairs exactly as planned. Once in Carole s room we changed our clothes and I was especially keen to check on Barbara s back.

There were signs of healing, but it was all too clear that she still had a very long way to go.

Ten minutes later we strolled downstairs dressed in jeans, casual shirts, and light jackets. Our suitcases and toiletries had been packed into the trunk of the Olds earlier this morning. We said our good-byes quickly, taking extra time to thank my parents, Eli, and Big C then we were off to our abbreviated honeymoon. We were on the Hutchinson River Parkway toward the Whitestone Bridge, making sure that I had the change for the tolls. The traffic heading eastbound on Long Island s limited east-west highways was terrible during the afternoon rush hour and our goal was to reach Suffolk County by 3:00. We actually missed that by five minutes, but we clearly had avoided the bulk of the traffic and all of the delays one could expect.

We had been on the road talking and joking and looking forward to our life together when I asked her what she had been discussing with her friends. I told them how I had asked Sister Mary Patrick about my ring and how she had treated me and about my injuries. They weren t all that surprised. Elizabeth told me that she was beaten last year; not as many times as I was and for some minor transgression in class. She said that her parents were told that she d be kicked out of school and possibly excommunicated by Msgr. Moran if they complained so they said nothing.

I ll bet we can come up with lots of other girls just by talking to your friends and their friends and so forth. Mr. Silverman thinks we may be able to file a class action suit. That could involve hundreds of millions of dollars and I m sure it would get plenty of publicity. It s just like Moran to threaten the injured parties. Well, that won t happen to us, will it?

Barbara laughed. I loved hearing her laugh. No, it won t because we already quit, right?

Absolutely! Did I hear them call the nun a troll?

Yes, that s what we call her. She s short, maybe five feet two inches at most and she must weigh 250 pounds. Her breasts hang down to her navel and her nose is all misshapen and she has a beard. We know because one day in a weak moment she told us how hard it was for her to have to shave once a week. That was also the day that she condemned all men, telling us how the boys treated her when she was young. I gathered then that she hadn t changed much as she grew older. She s also one of the teachers you mentioned. She never attended college and she brags all the time about how that shows how smart she is. I thought about that, wondering whether that information might be of use to Lt. Flanagan.

We were about half an hour from the bungalow when a thought hit me. I had to laugh and I did until Barbara asked me why. I just realized something. Today is my re-birthday. With all the excitement I completely forgot. I was struck by lightning exactly ten years ago today. I guess that makes me doubly lucky today. Barbara laughed then, as I stopped at a light, she moved over to give me a long hot kiss. Several people honked their horns when the light had turned green and I hadn t moved an inch.

I drove up the lawn all the way to the back door of the bungalow. My dad had built most of it himself back in 1948. It was a simple rectangle with a galley kitchen right at the back door. I turned on the electricity right after carrying my kicking and laughing wife over the threshold. I left her to wander the house while I did the most objectionable job of opening the house; climbing headfirst into the crawlspace to turn the water on at the main. There were always plenty of spiders there and I had seen several black widows there over the years. That was why I ran a long stick around the opening and down the pit to where the valve was located. I also wore an old long-sleeved sweatshirt I had thrown into the trunk just for this purpose.

Barbara met me in the living room. This is really nice, Jack

It s better now than it was when it was built. There were no ceilings then and early in the morning there were comic books thrown from room to room and you could get hit by someone s sneaker, too. In spite of that, there was almost a rebellion when Dad decided to add the ceilings. Also, originally there were no doors to the bedrooms; only cloth drapes. I don t think that Mom was too happy with that. They only lasted one summer.

Which is your bed?

I pointed to the bedroom on the far right. Over here on the right. I have the one by the wall and Carole has the one under the window. I ve been thinking of buying a lot or two somewhere around here. The beach is great. Some days you can sit there and not see another person for miles. I ll take you down there tomorrow. There are pebbles all along the north shore so walking barefoot is tough at first, but within a week or so your feet will get calloused and you ll be fine. Best of all is the water. It s great for kids because it s usually calm and clean so it s wonderful for swimming, snorkeling, and fishing. There s also a big rock about a quarter mile down the beach that s right at the edge of the water. You can walk down there at high tide and dive off and swim right back up the rock because of the way it s shaped. It s pretty neat. Of course we have names for all these rocks. I ll show you tomorrow.

But first, we have to check out the house. I ll give you the easy job. You can make the beds. We re using my parents room. While you re doing that I have to check for dead mice. The look on Barbara s face was priceless. We sometimes get field mice that come in during the winter. Every September we put out Mouse-not s; essentially strychnine poison; along with a small cup of water which activates the poison. That s the good part. The bad is that they often die here either in the storage compartment in the couch or behind it or under it.

I found the sheets for Barbara while I made my search. Sure enough I found two that had been dead for some time. I picked them up using a rag and placed them into a brown paper bag I would throw out later when we went out for dinner. It was almost that time now. We had eaten several times at the party so a big sit-down meal was out of the question, besides we wanted to have plenty of time to make love. We agreed on a pizza joint we had passed on the way.

We split a small sausage pizza and a large Pepsi then bought two Pepsi six packs at the local supermarket, but no food. We agreed that we d rather spend our time making love than cooking and cleaning.

It was when we had returned to the bungalow that I received the first shock of my married life. Rather than make the two beds in my parents bedroom, she had made mine; a simple twin. How much room have we needed the last two nights, Jack? Hmm? The only difference is that neither one of us is going to wear anything.

Nothing?

Well; I m going to be wearing you and you re going to be wearing me. We will have a blanket and a sheet. But I expect to feel you all night and when I feel that certain something special that I ve come to love; . I couldn t help but laugh. I wanted to take a shower, but Barbara was impatient. She stripped me in seconds then shed her clothes, as well. I did make her wait until I had checked her back. Almost all of her bleeding welts had scabbed over, but I would still have to apply the ointment and reapply the bandages before we retired. Otherwise I was afraid I would further injure my bride in my sleep.

Barbara pulled several dozen condoms from her purse. When I gave her a questioning look she laughed as she explained, Your mom is a really prepared woman. She bought them for us while you were in school then made sure they were in my purse. You know that guys never go into a girl s purse. Anyway, we have enough to get us through the weekend.

I shook my head in dismay, but thought this would be a good time for a discussion that would impact both of us. I explained how I had made some changes in my portfolio to buy Searles Pharmaceuticals because they had marketed the new birth control pill. We talked about the pros and cons, ultimately agreeing that she would try it. I explained further that the pill was a sign of progress; medically and sexually.

If we don t make some progress pretty soon; .. I could take the hint, lying back on the bed so Barbara could climb onto my body. Try touching my back, Jack.

I don t want to; .

I know, but we have to experiment a bit. Oh! I guess I m not ready yet. Barbara was kneeling between my legs, rubbing my cock with her nipples. Moving forward she gripped my organ and I began to worry those hard wrinkled nipples as our kiss began. After a shaky beginning I d learned to love Barbara s kisses. Just the touch of her lips to mine was enough to harden me to steel. She carefully tore through the wrapper and rolled the thin latex sheath down over the head and shaft. I could tell in an instant that she was more than ready, easily seeing the reflection of her nectar running down her thighs in the dim light as she gripped me and spread her legs to almost one hundred and eighty degrees. Seconds later we were in heaven, sharing our desire, our need, and mostly our love.

Barbara must have been practicing because she gave me some sensations I had never felt before, either that or she was saving something special for when we were married. Her cunny was vibrating around my cock, driving me crazy with lust. That, combined with her frenetic movements, brought us to a delightful, but unfortunately swift conclusion. I twisted her big clit as I drove into her with all my strength. Barbara screamed into the night as her body exploded with rapture. My orgasm was there, too. It took all my energy and determination not to reach around her to clutch her to my body.

Instead, I grabbed the muscular orbs of her ass, waiting for her convulsions to ebb. Finally, we settled together, a sweaty dirty mess. I pulled the condom off, resting it on a hanky that I used to wipe myself clean then I pulled the blanket over us. My final act of the best day of my life was to whisper, I love you, Mrs. French. Barbara kissed my cheek and we were gone.

We rose early, showered and I addressed her back s needs; applying ointment and bandages; then we dressed for breakfast; just jeans and sweatshirts and sneakers.

Breakfast out in this area meant going to a nearby deli for bacon and eggs on a roll. We also ordered sandwiches for our lunch. We were back to the bungalow in plenty of time for my phone calls first to Lt. Flanagan and second to Mr. Silverman. Lt. Flanagan told us that he had secured a warrant for both phone taps and for recording my conversations with the school principal and my least favorite monsignor. I made arrangements to meet with him at 8:00 Monday morning. I thought it would be the perfect opportunity; school would be closed, but the principal and staff were scheduled to work. I had no idea how he had learned that, but I agreed. I knew that I would have no trouble meeting with Msgr. Moran. All I had to do was tell him that I wanted to talk about my pledge for the Dunwoodie Chapel renovation. I did want to speak with him about it, but the conversation wasn t one he would enjoy. I was going to renege after seeing how Barbara had been so terribly mistreated.

Mr. Silverman told me that he had met with a judge early yesterday morning and had been given a writ requiring the Tuckahoe School District to enroll Barbara French, nee Millard, a transfer student from St. Claudia s in Yonkers. Also, a second writ required St. Claudia s to provide me with Barbara s records. That visit would give me a legitimate reason to visit the school. Finally, he told me that he had met with a local real estate agent yesterday afternoon in regard to a short-term rental. He said that my reputation in the community would probably help in that regard because everyone knew of my character. I rung off, telling him we d speak again Monday after my undercover work was done.

The whole purpose of using the bungalow was to give us some time to be alone together and, other than a few minutes spent with two of my friends on the beach, that was exactly what we had. If anything, our love for each other grew every time we made love that weekend and we made love often; a minimum of three times a day, taking time off only to rest, shower, eat, and walk on the beach. I had always loved the peace I had found on the beach and Barbara obviously agreed. We resolved to buy a lot in the area where we could spend our summers and odd weekends when not taking classes in Massachusetts.

Sunday was Easter and we agreed to attend some kind of church services. After reviewing the options we decided on the Lutheran church in nearby Rocky Point, mostly because there was a Lutheran church just two blocks from St. Catharine s in Pelham. We closed up the bungalow after the enjoyable service, ate lunch at a restaurant on the way home and arrived at my parents home around three that afternoon.

Of course, they wanted to know how Barbara was feeling. To that she only had a huge smile which made my mother laugh and my father red-faced. My back still hurts, but someone is spoiling me rotten and he s always putting that stuff on me and bandaging my boo-boo s. That was directed at Carole who laughed hysterically. She ran to Barbara and would have hugged her under other circumstances. Instead, Barbara hugged her, kissing her cheek. Then she whispered, just loud enough for all of us to hear, I m so glad you re my sister now. I neve

The Freak: Part 3.

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Mon, 20 Jul 2026 22:34:00 +0000

The Freak: Part 3.

Trouble in Paradise before I take revenge.

Based on a post by Senor Longo. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

THE FREAK; Part 3 of 5

What happened to your face, Jack?

You did, I replied with a little chuckle.

Oh, no! Did I pee on you? I m so sorry.

No; no; it s not urine. Did you have seven orgasms?

I don t know. I kind of lost track. I don t know what you did to me, but it was incredible. I came quickly and then I kept on cumming and cumming. I didn t think it was ever going to stop.

Well, every time you came I got flooded. I don t know what it was, but I m glad I was able to do it for you.

She moved up a bit to look me straight in my eyes. Me, too, she whispered just before pressing those sweet plump lips into mine once again. I checked out the dashboard clock and pointed at it; 3:26, time to head on home.

Everyone was asleep when we walked through the back door. We turned left so Barbara could take a quick shower. She had left her night gown and robe here in anticipation. I closed the bathroom door and began to turn the couch into my bed when I felt a hand on my arm. Barbara was standing there naked. Damn, but she was a beautiful woman. Come and join me, she whispered.

I laughed. Funny! You have got to be kidding. There is no way that two of us will fit in there. It s all I can do on my own. Thanks for the offer, though; maybe someday, but not tonight. I gave her a quick kiss and she returned to the bathroom, a pout on her face. Ten minutes later she came out, kissed me quickly and walked to the living room. I followed so I could turn the stairway lights on for her and off once she was safely upstairs. I showered quickly, mostly to wash my groin and my face, knowing what my parents would think if they saw me covered with Barbara s juice. It was almost four by the time I crawled under the covers.

We slept in New Year s Day and I would have stayed in bed after 10:00 had I not been invaded by an eight year-old monster named Carole. C mon, J.J., get up so we can play. Did I mention that she was jumping on my chest at the time?

What time did you go to bed last night?

Mom and Dad let me stay up until 10:00.

That s great! I stayed up until four. Let me see; ten is bigger than four so you must have been up later than me.

She responded with a scowl. Even I know that s not true. You need to get up. Barbara s already up and dressed. C mon!

Ugh! It s a good thing that I love you. I growled and Carole scampered away screaming down the hallway. Thank God I wasn t a drinker. J didn t know how I could handle a hangover considering how tired I was. I struggled out of bed to shave, run a comb through my generally unruly short hair, and brush my teeth, dressing in a Harvard sweatshirt, jeans, and slippers. Then I made my bed, turning it back into a couch before yawning my way to the kitchen.

Barbara was there getting a cup of coffee. I wrapped my arm around her waist and she moved up for a quick kiss. That was accompanied by a giggle from the breakfast nook. Knowing that Carole was watching, I moved in for a real kiss. Mom and Dad already knew of my intentions even if Barbara didn t so I wasn t worried that they d say anything. Of course, the giggling was non-stop through the entire kiss. I broke it and jumped into the nook, grabbing Carole and swinging her around while I hugged and kissed her. Her giggling turned to loud laughter which stopped only when Dad complained of an after New Year s headache. I felt real sympathy, knowing how I felt without one.

Barbara and I had only a light breakfast of pastries and doughnuts from the bakery. I broiled hot dogs for lunch then we retired to the living room for the traditional football games. Barbara sat on the couch where she had been on Christmas and I sat on the floor at her feet. She rubbed my neck and ran her fingers through my hair for most of the afternoon. Around three she moved to the kitchen to help Mom with the dinner. Carole and I helped by setting the table.

We ate dinner as one big and happy family before I walked outside with Barbara to drive her home. Tomorrow was Sunday so I d see her early for Mass, knowing that we d spend the entire day and much of the night together. Somehow, my need for seven days of basketball a week had ebbed, replaced by a greater need; a need to love and be loved and to be with that one special person. I let Barbara take the Olds home with her Sunday night so we could spend time together after Tuesday s game.

January and February are the months when the basketball season kicks into high gear. Every game is a league game and every game counts toward that elusive league championship. Well, it was elusive if you played at a school other than ours over the past four years. There was pressure though; the pressure of being ranked number one; the pressure of having a target on your back every time you stepped onto the court. Despite the pressure we ran the table, winning every game by a wide margin.

I had expected to play against every junk defense in the book; box and one, triangle and two, and every variant that was ever devised. There were two big problems with this approach. The first was that I never cared how many points I scored; doubling me had to leave someone else open and my teammates were all very good players in their own right. Doubling me led to more open layups for them than I could count. The other problem was that the smaller guards couldn t leap with me and the bigger layers were just too slow. You re not supposed to be able to drive through a zone, but I drove for layup after layup most games. When I couldn t score I gladly passed to a cutting teammate. Could I make All-American playing this way? Who cared? All that mattered was that we won.

There are four classes of schools in New York; A, B, C, and D; based on school enrollment. Tuckahoe was in Class D. Our success over the past four years meant that we could go anywhere we wanted to in the tourney to play against any class of opponent. Some of us wanted to go into Class A. Most of our opponents had been in Class B or higher, but I argued for us to stay in Class D. Let the bigger schools beat each other up. Guys will get hurt. Guys will get tired. We ll meet the best in the inter-class finals just as we have in the past.

That was what we did and, sure enough, New Rochelle faltered in the A semis and so did Mount Vernon, another highly ranked school from our area. One of the lesser schools won the A competition and the same thing happened in the Class B finals. We blew the Class C champs out of the gym and the following night we whipped the A Champs. They were exhausted from their game against the B winners. Our starters had only played about half of our game the previous night. I won the center jump, one of the few that were actually contested and scored on our much practiced opening play, rubbing my man off on Eli s strong broad body for a crashing dunk. We pressed full court and ran at every opportunity. For all purposes, the game was over at the half when we had built a twenty point lead. Instead of relaxing we shifted into overdrive and, once again, the basket looked to be as big as the ocean. I couldn t and didn t miss and neither did my teammates. We had our fifth consecutive state championship. Three of us made the all-tournament team; three out of ten. Our win streak was at 129 when the season ended.

Best of all; Barbara was there with me every step of the way, even staying overnight in a room with my sisters during the two finals weekends. She was one of many who stormed the court first when we won the Class D State Championship and, finally, when we won the whole shebang. She was the only one of that horde, however, to greet me with a searing kiss.

It was the last week in March and I had just driven to our favorite parking place after an early night of bowling. Soon the outdoor movies would open and we could look forward to an entire night of making out. So far Barbara and I had done everything sexually other than fucking. I loved her enough that I wasn t going to push it. We were sitting together holding each other knowing that we had plenty of time for sexual activities later. Barbara broke our kiss and looked up at me, her pleading voice just above a whisper. Jack, what s going to happen to us once we graduate?

I think we re going to stay together. We will if I have anything to say about it.

But how? You re going to Harvard and I m staying here to attend St. Elizabeth Seton. We won t see each other for months.

No; you need to come to Massachusetts with me.

How can I do that? Where would I live?

I could see that Barbara was almost in tears and I would never want that. I leaned down to kiss her then opened my door to get out. Do me a favor and scoot over here a bit. Please? I gave her a quick peck and got out, walking around the back of the car and getting back in on the passenger side. My right knee was on the car floor and my left foot was on the asphalt as I reached into the glove box to get a plain brown paper lunch bag. Mom had hundreds of them for Carole and even Marie on occasion.

Taking her hands in mine I began to speak. Barbara, you know that I dated quite a few girls before you, but I ve never once told a girl that I loved her, not until this very second. Barbara, I think I fell in love with you even before I caught you in front of St. Catharine s. I am so totally in love with you that it s scary. I told you about the flash where I saw you fall, but I never told you about the other flash that day nor about the hundreds I ve had since then; flashes about our love and life with each other.

I could see her start to understand and she smiled broadly as I continued. Barbara, I hate being away from you for even a single night now so I can t imagine what being away from you for months would be like. Actually, I can; it would be the closest thing to hell for me. What I m doing here in case you haven t figured it out yet is asking you to marry me. I promise that I will love and cherish and protect you forever, maybe even longer.

I reached into the bag to retrieve the small blue velvet box from Harry Winston. Barbara hadn t said a word, but she did push her finger out to me. There were tears in her eyes as I slipped the ring onto her finger. Once it was on she pulled me to her for the hottest kiss of my life. Then she whispered in my ear. Jack. I have loved you for so long; as long as I ve known you. I want more than anything to make love with you. I ve wanted that for quite a while, too. I want to feel you inside me. I only wish I could feel you spurt into my womb, but that will have to wait; for a while, anyway. Can we get into the back seat?

After a tight hug and a tender kiss I replied, I think you deserve a real bed for our first time. You want to drive?

No, I want to cuddle up next to you and look at my ring. Was it expensive? I ll bet it was! She leaned forward again to kiss me then shooed me out the door. I drove us to Nepperhan Avenue, one of the main drags in Yonkers where I had seen some old fashioned motels; the kind that are a bunch of individual small cabins; on our way to an away game. We were there in less than thirty minutes. I handed Barbara a pocketful of change, telling her, Why don t you phone Mrs. Gleason and tell her you ll be late. Be sure you tell her why; the engagement why not the making love why. Barbara laughed then hugged and kissed me before slipping into the phone booth. (Remember! This was 1961 when such things were commonplace.) I walked into the motel office to register.

I d like to rent a room, please.

He looked me over closely before responding. Are you actually old enough?

My attorney tells me that one must be eighteen to legally sign a contract so the answer is yes. I have my passport in my pocket if you like. He responded by holding his hand out and I passed it to him. He spent more than a minute checking the photo and my date of birth before returning it to me.

I suppose the woman outside is your wife.

Not yet, but we just became engaged tonight. She wants to make love and I thought her first time should be in a real bed as opposed to my back seat.

First time? Yes, I guess I can see why you d like that to be special. Fifteen bucks and I don t expect to have any trouble.

There won t be any. I have too much to lose; a full ride to Harvard being at the top of the list.

Wow, he said as he made change and passed me the key to number seven. You re a big kid. Ever play any kind of ball?

I couldn t help but smile. Yeah; a five year starter in basketball and baseball and a four-year starter in football.

I recognize you now. Tuckahoe, right? I nodded. He laughed as he said, Nobody is happier than I am that you re graduating. My son played JV basketball and will be a junior at Gorton next year.

My smile vanished. Too bad about Jimmy Albin. He nodded. Jimmy s situation was sad. He d been found dead just after the end of the season, a hypodermic needle jutting from his arm. All of my teammates and I attended his wake and funeral. Barbara was there, too, never leaving my side. I put my smile back on my face as I walked out, but there was no fooling my love.

What s wrong, Jack?

Nothing really; his son played JV at Gorton. He knew Jimmy.

She reached up to stroke my cheek. You tried to warn him, Jack. He didn t listen. A lot of kids think they know everything. Oh; Mrs. Gleason is thrilled. She didn t seem to be too surprised. She took my hand and we walked together to our room. She showed me a handful of condoms from the glove box.

You trying to kill me before we re even married?

No, but I like to be prepared. I smiled; prepared is good. I opened the door and turned on the light. I expected the room to be worn and it was, but it appeared to be clean although it was cold. I found the heater and adjusted the control. I was pleased when the machine responded immediately.

Now that we were here we were both nervous and hesitant. Eventually, we started to giggle and that developed into full laughter. We came together for a long kiss. Don t you think you should undress me now, Barbara whispered. I kissed her again, moving my hands to her tiny buttons while she began to work on mine. My hands are big and powerful, but they weren t made for this kind of work. She had me practically naked by the time I had half of her buttons opened.

Here, silly, let me help you. She pulled the blouse up and over her head, turning around so I could handle her bra. I leaned forward to nuzzle her neck and cup her beautiful breasts in my hands. Barbara reached behind her to lower my slacks and my briefs. Luckily I had worn my loafers so I was able to step out of my shoes. I placed all of the clothes on a chair while Barbara lowered the blanket and sheet. I think I need to practice some sexy poses for you; something that will help you get turned on.

You haven t needed anything so far. Just one glance at your beautiful face and your incredible body and look at me. I looked down at my cock which stood at attention, as hard as granite and already leaking pre-cum. I kneeled on the bed and lay next to my goddess to caress and experience her fantastic body from head to toe; her soft smooth skin, her glimmering hair, her perfect conical breasts topped with sensitive and responsive nipples and areolas. I kissed each of those nipples, licking and suckling like an infant. My hand rubbed her labia until she was panting and squirming with desire.

It s time, darling. Make love to me. I want it. Damn, I need it. She pulled a condom from the night table and with practiced precision unrolled it down my shaft as I moved between her legs.

I know it s going to hurt at first. Am I going to bleed? I hesitated a second then jumped up to the bathroom, returning with a thin bath towel. Barbara raised her hips to accommodate me then spread her legs wide. I rubbed myself up and down her slit several times before gently pushing home. I was going slowly for two reasons. First, Barbara was a virgin, unused to having anything anywhere near as thick as my cock in her tunnel. Second, I didn t want her to hurt any more than necessary. Apparently, she had other ideas as she thrust her hips upward several inches, ripping her hymen in a flash.

She cried out, several tears streaming from her face, but when I looked at her all I could see was her love. I kissed those tears away as Barbara began to smile. She relaxed as I pushed further into her. We began a rhythm, moving together; slowly at first; Barbara s legs wrapped tightly around my waist. Oh, Jack! She was moaning continuously now. I raised my body up onto my elbows so I could worry her sensitive nipples with my fingers. I could tell from her movements that she was rubbing her clit; her big hard clit loaded with sensitive nerve endings; into my pubic bone.

She was working as hard as I was, driving her hips into me with every thrust. Her face was a mask of love and lust. Her love for me was evident, but just as obvious was her lust; her desire and need to fuck and be fucked; to cum and cum hard.

Our pace increased until we were fucking like animals then; suddenly and without warning; she froze, grabbed me by the hair and pulled me down for a kiss that showed her passion and her love and her lust. Then, just as suddenly, she lost it. Her body shook in three or four directions at once as her powerful orgasm claimed reign over her body. Even my weight wasn t enough to keep her in the center of the bed. She was just coming down when my orgasm hit. She knew by now what to expect. Six straight times my hips drove forward, a fountain of semen erupting from my hard hot tool. I tried to move off her, but she would hear nothing of it. Please, Jack; stay where you are. I love having you in me.

There s nothing I d like more, but, if I do, there s a good chance that the condom will leak. That would never do. I kissed her again, a relatively chaste one, and slid off to her side, the condom, loaded with my seed, dangling from my shrinking cock. I trotted to the bathroom to flush it away and wash my organ thoroughly. I knew that Barbara wanted to play and the last thing we needed was for some stray sperm to find its way into the wrong place.

Barbara was grinning like the Cheshire cat when I returned. I lay next to her, kissing her cheek and hair and rubbing her back and ass. Why the silly grin, I asked.

I was just remembering something you said. Remember when you told me that making love was the most fun thing you ever did? I agree completely. It really was the best thing I ve ever done. Can we do it again?

We can, but we ll need to rest and wait a bit. Men aren t built like women. She began to laugh and I joined her. That s not what I meant. Women can make love time after time as long as their vaginas are lubricated, but a man has to recover. I think it s called refractory period. I should be okay to go again in about thirty or forty minutes. Then if you want to do it again it ll take me a bit longer.

She pouted until she smiled, calling me a spoil sport. I just shrugged my shoulders as I pulled her to me again. We talked about our plans. I wanted us to marry as soon as possible. I also wanted Barbara to accompany me to Cambridge the week after Easter so we could look to rent an apartment or house. I thought that she could apply to local universities for admission in January. She had good grades and there were plenty of universities in the Boston area so I was sure she would be successful. I d rent two motel rooms for appearance sake, but after tonight there would be no reason to use both. If we could marry at the end of the school year we could move to Massachusetts the following week.

Barbara had been playing with my cock, something she had done often; almost every night we spent down past the apartments and, sure enough, thirty-five minutes later she rolled another condom down my shaft. Why don t you take the top this time? I think you ll like it, maybe even better. You ll have complete freedom of movement and I ll be able to play with these babies. I was already massaging her gorgeous breasts.

It could be better? Her tone was incredulous, but she climbed over me to straddle my hips. I took my cock and helped her to line up her cunny with my organ. She had her eyes closed, her face showing total contentment as I stretched her vaginal wal

The Freak: Part 2.

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Sun, 19 Jul 2026 22:33:00 +0000

The Freak: Part 2.

I learn to love my Catholic School girl.

Based on a post by Senor Longo. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

THE FREAK; Part 2

We were in my car and on our way when Barbara asked, Would you really have fought with that guy?

No; I knew he d back off. He was all mouth. If he really wanted to hurt me he and his buddies would have jumped me without any warning. How about we get some seafood tonight? I know of a good restaurant just down the road in Bronxville. Barbara agreed and ten minutes later we were seated at a table, menus in our hands.

I ordered a pitcher of Coke as we checked the menu. I had to laugh when I showed one item on the menu to Barbara. No, thanks, she said with a smile to my offer of garlic bread. I passed on it, too. I decided on the seafood alfredo and a tossed salad with bleu cheese dressing. Not surprisingly, Barbara ordered the same.

She started the conversation by telling me how much she liked my family. Your mom and dad are so nice and so are your sisters although I barely know Angela because she s always cheering at the games. I especially like your little sister, Carole. It s so obvious how much she loves you.

She always has nice things to say about you, too. Say, I just had a thought. Want to come to Tuesday s game? It s at home against Gorton. That s another high school in Yonkers. They ve always played pretty well against us.

I d love to, but how will I get there? You ll be at school and your parents will probably get there long before I can get to Chester Heights.

You have a driver s license, don t you?

Yes, but; .

I ll pick you up for church Sunday and after breakfast I ll let you drive to your school then back to mine so you ll know how to get there. I ll draw you a map, too.

You re going to trust me with your new car?

Yeah; aren t you trustworthy? Is there a place you can keep it at your apartment?

There s some parking in a fenced lot behind the building and I ll make sure to lock it, too.

Oh, Jack; you re the best. I thought she was going to continue to tell me that she loved me, but then I realized that it was too soon.

Our salads were delicious and very fresh, which I found surprising considering that it was mid-December. We ate in comfortable silence. Every once in a while I d look at Barbara and I always found that she was looking at me at the same time. We just smiled at each other and returned to eating.

The alfredo was a great choice. The shrimp and scallops were tender and delicious and the sauce had obviously been freshly made. It really was a great meal. We left a bit after eleven, driving to my favorite parking spot at the end of the apartment complex, only two blocks from my home. I moved to the center of the seat, telling Barbara that we d have more room that way.
We began kissing, lips locked together and tongues dancing in desire. The windows were steaming up when Barbara moved to straddle me. We never broke our kiss when she began to dry hump my thigh. Seeing this as a signal that she wanted to go a bit further I lightly brushed her nipples with the back of my hand. Her moan of pleasure died in my mouth so I did it again, this time a little harder. She responded by spreading her legs and grinding her cunny into my leg.

I opened her blouse and snaked my hands around her to remove her bra. A second later her glorious breasts were in my hands. I wasn t someone who thought that playing with a girl s breasts was all about some kind of stupid conquest for me. This was about making her feel good; maximizing the pleasure she was experiencing. I rolled her sensitive nipples in my fingers, being careful not to pinch or hurt her. We continued like this until she threw her head back, groaning in her ecstasy. Jack! Oh God, Jack; that feels so good. Then looking into my eyes she whispered, I m a virgin, Jack.

And you will be until you decide otherwise. Barbara; will you ; will you touch me? She looked confused so I continued. I mean here. Taking her hand, I placed it lightly on my rock hard cock.

Looking straight into my eyes she began to rub me through my slacks. What do you want me to do, Jack? Please tell me.

Undo my belt and open my pants then pull down my zipper. I continued to massage her breasts then when my briefs were exposed I used both hands to move my cock and balls through the leg hole. I had tried boxers a year ago when I received several pair at Christmas, but I didn t like the feeling of no support so I threw them out and went back to the briefs. Barbara took me in hand and began to slowly stroke me. Her touch was like velvet, exactly what I imagined her cunny to be as her slender delicate hands moved up and down my thick shaft.

I probably could have made my penis as big as a horse s, but I never saw the appeal. A really long cock would mean either having several inches out in the breeze while fucking or driving into her sensitive cervix with every thrust. I was perfectly satisfied with my seven and a half inches. Yes; I had measured it one night way back in junior high. Now I was being stroked by an absolute goddess. She must have enjoyed it because she gripped me tighter with every stroke and what had begun as slow gentle rubbing was now approaching a feverish pace.

Barbara! Please! If you continue like that, there s going to be a terrible mess. I can t send you home with semen on your clothes and in your hair.

It would squirt that far?

I m afraid so. What you re doing to me is heavenly, but; .

What if we used one of those things? Those condoms?

Yeah; that would work. Barbara leaned forward again to kiss me then she turned to open the glove box. A minute later she had rolled the thin latex sheath over my organ, taking care as I had instructed to pinch the nipple tightly to keep air from intruding the space between my skin and the lubricated rubber.

Stating slowly again, she ran her fingers up and down, squeezing tighter and tighter and, once again, building her pace until she was in full masturbation mode. I usually had good orgasm control, but tonight I d had plenty of sexual stimulation from Barbara s sweet lips and her hard sensitive nipples. She hadn t been at me for even two minutes when my hips thrust up violently and long thick ropes of slick sperm-laden semen erupted into the tip. It was more than full by the time I finished more than thirty seconds later, sinking back into the seat in exhaustion.

My breathing was deep, slow, and labored as I began the trek back from the abyss of my orgasm. I could see from the alarm on Barbara s face that she d never experienced anything close to what had just happened. Are you okay, Jack?

I know that appearances can be deceiving, but; yeah, I m more than okay. That was great, better than great. It was incredible. Just let me get rid of this and clean myself up then I ll gladly take care of you.

Me? How? I leaned forward to kiss her, whispering my thanks into her ear then I rolled down the window and eased the condom off my shrinking penis. After tying it into a knot I tossed it through the window, closing it quickly once that was done. Reaching over the seat I pulled my gym bag up, unzipped, and pulled out my still damp towel. Then it was a breeze to clean myself and dress.

Once that was done I took Barbara into my arms again. I hope that didn t scare you. Orgasms can be pretty intense. That one sure was.

I have to admit; that was my first male one.

I looked at her and we began to giggle. I didn t realize that this was confession time. Do I get to give you penance now? For penance give me a long deep and juicy kiss.

Penance isn t usually fun at least it s not supposed to be. She leaned forward and we kissed as I moved her down to the seat, her head near the steering wheel. My hands found the button and zipper on her slacks then she lifted her hips to help me get them off her slender body. I folded them carefully over the seat back. I couldn t send her home with slacks that we d stepped all over. That would never do. Her cotton panties were next. I felt the moisture in the crotch and I could easily smell her arousal. I began by kissing her lightly then my kisses went to her ear and then her neck. I followed by kissing each areola and suckling each nipple. By now Barbara was a panting wreck, tremors coursing through her body.

They only got worse when I plunged my tongue into her navel, licking clockwise then changing to the opposite. Finally, I moved between her legs and attacked her quivering cunny with the broad of my tongue. Starting at the bottom of her slit I moved forward slowly, teasing her terribly. I continued for more than five minutes, my strokes getting lighter and more teasing every time. Barbara was shaking uncontrollably when my tongue penetrated where nothing had ever been before. She responded by wrapping her shapely silken thighs around my head and humping my face with incredible vigor.

The dashboard clock told me I had to hurry. It was almost time to take her home. I spread her legs wide, moving her hard bud out from its hood then I sucked it between my teeth and gnawed for almost a minute. Barbara s shaking turned into thrashing that ended with a mighty convulsion from which her body was lifted almost a foot above the seat before it collapsed with a mighty exhalation onto the firm leather almost totally out of it.

I pulled her up into a sitting position then struggled to return her panties to her body. Her slacks followed and finally I clasped her bra and buttoned her blouse. I backed out the door and helped her to stand so I could tuck her blouse into the slacks and help her back into her coat. We left then, driving to Pelham where we kissed goodnight just outside the apartment door. She turned as I descended the stairs, blowing a kiss. I smiled then turned and walked out into the cold clear night.

I picked Barbara up at seven the following night for bowling. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Gleason commented on Barbara s condition last night so I assumed that they had been in bed when she walked in to the apartment. Barbara confirmed that once we were in the car.

I drove to Mount Vernon, parking in the small lot that was used primarily during the morning for the commercial bakery that occupied the building s first floor. It was a long climb up the stairs, a bowling bag in each hand and Barbara hanging onto my arm. Tell me again why you have two balls. Then she began to laugh before continuing, Er; bowling balls.

I just shook my head. Holding up my right hand I explained, This one is my strike ball. It s the one I always use to start a frame. If I miss the strike I use the other ball for the spare. Lots of bowlers use more than one ball. I ll show you how they work once we re inside. I leaned over for a second and Barbara, apparently reading my mind brought her lips up to mine for a brief kiss. I opened the door by tucking one bag under my arm and pulling it so Barbara could walk in before me. I led her up to the counter where I was greeted by the owner.

Hi. J.J; .haven t seen you for a while. Taking a look at your friend here I can understand why.

Hi, Stan; this is Barbara. She ll need a pair of shoes. Barbara, trade him yours for a pair of his then you ll trade back once we re done.

She removed her shoes, telling Stan, Size six, please. A minute later we were walking to lane 12 with a large score sheet in Barbara s hands. We laced up our shoes and I placed my balls on the rack then accompanied Barbara to find her a ball. Stan had come around the counter once he had looked at her hands to show us where to look among the sixteen racks, each of which had at least two dozen balls of various weights. It took us a while, but with Stan s help we found a 12-pound ball that fit her well.

Want a couple of practice throws. I asked. Stan will turn the machine off for what is called shadow bowling. It s a good way to warm up and get your timing set. I waved to Stan and he returned the gesture, knowing immediately what I wanted. Then I showed Barbara how to coordinate her approach. I used a four-step approach and suggested that to her. Just relax and don t worry about the score.

Don t you think I can beat you? She sounded serious, but I knew she was only teasing. I m a very good bowler. I d bowled in an A-level league for the past two years with my Dad and would do so again once the basketball season was concluded. We d won the league championship last year with me bowling in the anchor position. I had averaged 203.6, one of the top averages in the league. We spent about ten minutes practicing until I waved at Stan again. The lights went on and we did it for real. I tried to show Barbara that timing and coordination were more important than sheer brute force. In fact, I showed her that brute force was almost always the cause of a split or worse.

We had a great time, just as we did with everything we had done although Barbara did accuse me of cheating when I scored a difficult spare; the 6,7,10 split; left handed. Barbara did well, breaking 100 in each of the three games we bowled. I bowled 177, 184, and 223, my first two games showing the rust from not having thrown a ball in several months. We finished and exited the lanes around nine when I drove us to a nearby Carvel for ice cream sundaes. We were at the end of the apartment complex by 10:15. Barbara seemed pleased at that.

She waited until I had moved over to the center position then rose to straddle my lap once again. She locked those sweet plump lips onto mine in only a second. We went from zero to one hundred; full make-out mode; in less than a second. It was the most passionate kissing I had ever experienced and, knowing of Barbara s limited experience, I was sure it was for her, also. We were only into it a few minutes when she removed her coat and threw it into the rear seat. Back to kissing, she led my hands to her blouse s buttons. Please, Jack. I need your hands on me. Please massage my breasts and do that thing you did last night with my nipples.

She pressed those hot lips into mine with a ferocity I d never seen or experienced before. My huge hands pulled her to me, almost crushing her in my embrace and in my passion. Slowly, I moved those powerful hands to the buttons on the front of her blouse. It found a place on the back seat a moment later. Like most guys I struggled with the clasp on her bra until finally freeing up her pert breasts. She brought my hands to them even as the bra flew behind me.

I was deeply engaged in our kiss, massaging her flesh and rolling her nipples between my fingers when she pushed my jacket off my body and began to open the buttons on my shirt. She was efficient; less than two minutes later our upper bodies were naked. I love the feeling of your skin; your hard strong muscles; against mine, Jack, she whispered just loud enough that I could hear her over the strains of the radio.

I have to agree. Your skin is so smooth and soft. It s like velvet.

Can I open your pants, Jack? Yeah, like I d complain about having my cock stroked by a hot woman I was rapidly learning to love. She was anything but tentative as her fingers tore at my belt and opened my pants. She reached into my briefs, pulling my manhood; my hard pulsing manhood; out into the cool December air.

Her hand wrapped around me to begin a gentle stroking rhythm. You know, Jack, people send their daughters to Catholic school for more than one reason. Some want their girls to get a strong religious education.

And the others?

Well; mostly they want to keep them away from boys.

Does that actually work?

Sometimes, I guess, but other times I don t think so. If a girl wants to get involved with a boy there isn t much the parents can do.

So, which one are you?

I could see Barbara s wry smile in the dashboard light. I d say the first kind until I met you. Now, I don t think anyone could keep me away from you. I leaned forward and we kissed again then I leaned down to suckle at her breasts. Suckling, I pulled her hard sensitive nipple between my teeth causing Barbara to gasp audibly and arch her back in an expression of her ecstasy.

Suddenly, she stood up as well as one can in the front seat of a car and slid her slacks down her legs, her panties following seconds later. I hope the cops don t show up, I laughed.

Me, too, she replied. Maybe we should lie down or, even better, why don t you lie down. I want to be here. She knelt then on the floor while she pushed my head toward the driver s seat. You know, Jack; what do you think girls in a school without boys talk about?

Boys, of course.

You re right, and mostly they talk about the things they ve done with boys. They talk a lot about them fondling their breasts and their pus; er, vaginas; jerking boys off and doing this. I looked down just as she opened her mouth to lick around my cock s head. She went around twice then tested her tongue in my pee hole. Is this where your stuff came from?

Yes. You probably know that women have two separate channels; the urethra for urine and the vagina for fun.

She looked up, shaking her head and laughing. You re terrible! Is it really that much fun?

No; it s a hell of a lot more. It s the most fun thing I ve ever done, but more than that is the intimacy; the sharing between two people. Of course, not everyone makes love. Some people just; .

Fuck?

Yeah, but what makes it special is when two people really care for each other.

You sound as though you ve had that kind of relationship.

I did; last year, but her dad got transferred to Seattle and that was the end of that. We liked each other a lot, but I don t know if it would have become love.

I m sorry.

I looked straight into her eyes as I whispered, I m not. If I was still with her it s likely I would never have met you. I was silent then, but it was enough. Barbara knew how I felt about her and I knew how she felt about me.

Her hand was slowing, making its way up and down my shaft the entire time, until she stopped suddenly. You know, Jack, this is nothing like I imagined. The skin here is so soft and smooth and it s loose so when I stroke you it moves with my hand.

I think that s to prevent friction burns on the skin although that doesn t always work.

Hmmm; maybe, but up here on the head it s so spongy. Why?

Truthfully, I have no idea. Maybe so when I push into you it doesn t hurt your cervix too badly. I understand that can be painful.

Barbara laughed. I wouldn t know. Maybe someday, but not tonight; I m sorry.

Don t be. I don t think either of us is quite ready for that; not if we want a real meaningful relationship. We can take care of each other much like we did last night. I leaned forward to kiss her again as her stroking resumed. I slid into the passenger seat and pulled her up to sit at my left. Her hand had never left my cock as she moved and now she was in perfect position. My left hand around her neck and shoulders attended to her nipples; it was large enough to cover both at the same time while my right attended to business between Barbara s legs.

My hands are huge and powerful, but I could and would be gentle and loving as I began to lightly rub her labia. I stayed there for more than five minutes while Barbara and I kissed, swapping spit and wrestling with our tongues. I must have been getting to Barbara because she slid forward on the seat, spreading her legs even wider to increase my access to her core. I responded by slowly pushing my finger into her tunnel. Knowing that she was a virgin I moved with the utmost care.

Now, I ve fingered roughly a dozen girls, but none of them had been as responsive as Barbara was. She moaned in rapture the second that my finger entered her and then she began to move on my finger, essentially fucking herself on my digit. My thumb moved naturally up to her clit and I was momentarily shocked. I had licked her last night, but my tongue; other than taste; is hardly the most discerning part of my body. Now that I was feeling her clit I realized that it was much bigger than I had thought. It felt as though it was at least an inch long and roughly half as wide as it protruded from its protective hood

I rolled it as I did her nipples. She came immediately, her left hand tightly gripping my head as her rig

The Freak: Part 1.

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Sat, 18 Jul 2026 22:32:00 +0000

The Freak: Part 1.

The man with two birthdays.

Based on a post by Senor Longo. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

PROLOGUE.

My legal name is John; John Joseph French, but nobody who knows me; not even a single teacher; calls me by my legal name. My family calls me Jack or JJ. All my friends call me Freak. It s not an insult. It s a term of endearment. After all, how many people do you know who celebrate two birthdays? I have my original one; November 12, 1942; and I have my Re-birthday ; March 27, 1951. It was the day I almost died. It was the day I was reborn. It was the day my life changed forever.

December, 1960.

My story doesn t start here, but this is where I ve decided to begin; in church. It was the first week in December and a surprise blizzard had dumped almost ten inches of wet sloppy snow overnight. Luckily, I had a 4-wheel drive Jeep with big knobby tires that were great for snow or for driving on the beach, something I did occasionally in the summer at my parents bungalow on Long Island. It was slow going over the eight miles from my home to St. Catharine s, but I still arrived in plenty of time to get a seat on the end of the pew.

I had been there maybe fifteen minutes when I stood for the start of the Mass. I couldn t help but notice the striking young woman standing just behind me along the wall. Looking down I could see from the puddles at her feet that her shoes were soaked through. She had walked a long way in the snow. I m a gentleman so I exited the row and pointed her to my seat. Thank you, she whispered with a smile.

I tried to pay attention to the priest, but, truthfully, I found the girl much more interesting. As I concentrated on her I realized that this was her lucky day, but I had to be in the right place at the right time. Just before the service ended I walked quickly to the stairs at the main entrance where I pulled two carefully folded objects from my coat pocket. They were Korkers; rubber soles that strap to one s special shoes or boots with numerous sharp metal studs that give incredible traction on the slickest surfaces. Once they were in place I stepped to the icy sidewalk and waited.

It was some five minutes before she appeared with the throng of worshipers who signaled that Mass had ended. I stepped in closely behind her, grabbing her firmly under her arms even before her shoes slipped on a small patch of ice and she fell backwards. Had I not been here she would have landed on her back, smashing the rear of her skull onto the sharp-edged concrete below. She would have died from a brain hemorrhage long before any emergency services would be able to reach her. Instead, I helped her to her feet and suggested she take my arm.

I noticed your shoes were wet in church. Once you came out into the freezing temperature those wet soles turned to ice. You re lucky I m an observant person. You might have been badly hurt. We had walked almost half a block before I spoke again. How far do you have to walk?
Just to the other side of Lincoln Avenue.

Okay; that s more than a mile. I think I d better give you a ride. You ll be a lot safer in my Jeep than on these sidewalks. I m sure that a lot of them aren t shoveled yet.

You re right. I wish I d worn my boots, but I was almost halfway here when I realized how wet my feet were becoming. I would have been really late if I had returned to my home. I don t know you. I don t even know your name.

I ll tell you everything at the diner. I m sure you re hungry. You received communion so you haven t eaten anything since last night. I ll give you a dime so you can phone your family as soon as we arrive. Incidentally, if I hadn t caught you when you fell you would have hit your head on the concrete and died. I ll explain how I know that, too. Okay, there s my Jeep; that green monstrosity at the corner. I don t think you ll be able to get in on the other side because of the snow, so. I bent over, lifted her legs with my left arm and placed her gently onto the passenger seat.
I was in my seat when I pointed to the shoulder/lap belt. You might want to use the seatbelt. They ll be mandatory in another twenty years. It will protect you if we have an accident. I m a safe and careful driver, but I can t account for others, especially in snow and ice. I pulled the Jeep out, driving slowly and turning right at the corner. Three minutes later I pulled into the diner s parking lot. We had just stepped into the restaurant when the waitress directed us to a booth.

Here s the dime I promised you, but before you go I want to show you something. Are you having coffee? I continued when she nodded. Then you ll probably want some sugar. I held my hand on the table and a second later the sugar dispenser slid into it.

How; how did you do that?

Make your call. I ll explain everything while we wait for our breakfast; or lunch if you prefer. She was shaking her head in dismay as she walked to the phone booth. I watched her dial and speak briefly before returning to the seat facing me. She sat quietly as I began my tale.

It happened while I was on vacation with my family in Florida. I was in third grade and playing hide and seek with my two cousins and my two sisters. I was it and had my head resting against a palm tree while I counted to 100. A storm blew in from the ocean; lightning struck the tree running through my brain and down my arm to my elbow. I opened my collar and turned around so she could see the inch-wide burn scar. That runs all the way to my elbow. It used to be on top of my head, too, but I took care of it so I d at least look normal.

But, you re not, are you?

No, I am definitely not. The waitress gave us menus and we ordered omelets with coffee for her and hot chocolate for me. I woke up a day later in the hospital. I m sure you ve heard that opposite charges attract and like charges repel. Well, for a split fraction of a second that tree and I had incredible negative charges. Being lighter and not stuck in the ground I was repelled; forty feet, I was told; into the side of a pickup truck.

When I woke up I still had my eyes closed and when I tried to figure out what was wrong with me I got the shock of my life. Starting at my head I could essentially see inside my body. I actually saw the two cracked ribs, broken bone in my forearm, and broken shin in addition to a load of bruises and cuts on my head, body, and legs. Once I knew that I wondered if I could also make my body and bones heal faster than they would normally.
I ll bet you could.

Yeah, I could and I did. I ve read recently that human beings only use about ten percent of their brain s capacity. I should have been killed, but instead, something happened when I was struck that changed my brain. I had a high IQ before, but I ve been tested more than a dozen times since and my score is always off the chart. Of course, that alone is no sure sign of success. That takes a lot more like motivation and willingness to work hard.

Oh; I m so sorry. I just realized that I never introduced myself; I m John; John Joseph French, but please call me Jack. I live in Chester Heights; know where that is? I continued when she nodded. I go to Tuckahoe High School. I m a senior there, just turned eighteen three weeks ago.

Her name was Barbara; Barbara Millard She was an orphan; her parents killed in an auto accident when she was three; and she had lived with the same foster parents, the Gleason s, ever since. She was also eighteen; roughly a month older than me and a senior at a Catholic girls school run by the Archdiocese of New York in nearby Yonkers.

Okay, there s a lot more to tell so I d better get back to it. I had been in the hospital about three weeks. My dad had driven my sisters back to New York while my mom stayed in Florida with me. That was when I told the doctor that I was completely healed and I wanted the casts removed. Of course, he scoffed so I suggested a deal. If he would have my ribs x-rayed and they weren t healed I d stay in the casts. But, if they were healed I wanted x-rays of my arm and leg. You already know what happened. I was completely healed although the doctor was mystified. I couldn t tell him how it had occurred. He would never have believed me.

I love to read the newspaper, especially the sports section. I noticed almost immediately that certain teams seemed to jump off the page. Then my parents told us that they were going to Yonkers Raceway on Friday night. They did that at least once a year with their group of friends. Monday night I looked at the newspaper s racing form and five of the horse names stood out. The following day I checked and they all had won.

You could make a fortune with that.

Yeah, I chuckled, my thinking exactly. I paused while our eggs and sides of bacon were served. On Wednesday night I gave my father a sealed envelope and asked him to sign his name across the seals then I put it onto the refrigerator door. The following afternoon I brought in the racing results and opened the envelope in my parents presence. They were shocked that all of my predictions were correct. Then I gave them my predictions for Friday when they were going to the track along with two dollars from my allowance and directions for placing two bets for me.

The first was a horse in the third race with high odds. It went off at 18 to 1 and paid $38.20. The second bet was a parlay; the entire thirty-eight bucks; on the Perfecta in the ninth race where the odds would be roughly 4500 to 1. I also gave them three other races in between. I explained that I did this so they would trust my predictions. I know my dad; he d go to the track and not bet for me, telling me he forgot if I didn t prove that I knew what I was doing. I thought it was funny at the time that I couldn t see the results of every race and that s never changed. I can usually see five or six out of the total. The same is true with baseball or football schedules.

Long story short, everyone bet on my choices, but fortunately not so much as to create suspicion. My mom and dad and all of their friends bet ten bucks on the perfecta, winning almost $46,000 and I won almost four times as much. I took half knowing that my parents would have to pay income tax on their winnings and placed $10,000 into a bank account for college then invested the rest through a friend s father who is a stockbroker.

Did that work with stocks, too? My smile answered the question for her.
Needless to say, my parents went to the track more often and my personal money has grown into a fortune. My friend s father no longer charges for my purchases and sales, but he does use the information with his other clients so he makes plenty that way. Then again, so do all of the brokers at Merrill Lynch. I actually have a contract that they have to make my trades first; before releasing the information to the other brokers.

When all this happened I was a tall skinny and bookish kid, but I loved sports even though I was terrible so I wondered if I could make myself into an athlete. For me the obvious place to do that was the public library where I could learn all about the traits and skills that great athletes have. I was able to make myself strong, fast, and quick. I love basketball so I became ambidextrous and grew my hands and feet and body to what I thought would be perfect for playing and I developed excellent depth perception. Then one day I found a set of New York State law books in the library s research section. That s where I learned that eighth graders could play high school sports with the principal s permission. I was in sixth grade then so I had time to gradually improve my body and my skills. I can dribble, shoot, and even write with both hands. I can run like the wind and jump like you wouldn t believe.

I think I would believe even though what you ve told me is unbelievable.

Everyone in school thought I was crazy for trying out in eighth grade, but I made the team. Our first games were on a Friday night; junior varsity at six and varsity at eight. I didn t start the JV game, but I went in midway through the second quarter and played very well so the coach told me that he wanted me to suit up for the varsity game. I had to throw my sweaty uniform back on and run out to the gym to tell my parents.

I did get to play when our first two centers got into foul trouble and again I played well, but we lost the game. The following Tuesday I played more and we won. The next day I was promoted to first team. I ve been there ever since and we never lost again, winning four straight state championships.

Did you win any awards? Is that what they re called?

I smiled. Yeah; awards is good. I made second team all-league in eighth, first team all-league and all-county ever since and last year I was All-State and All-American, too. I m sorry, I ve monopolized the conversation.

Don t apologize. It s been fascinating. You probably should have been killed, but you weren t and what s happened to you has been a miracle.

I guess it has. Are you in any school activities?

Barbara laughed. I have a bunch of nuns for teachers. What do you think? Besides, I have to take three buses just to get to school. That takes me more than an hour each way. I ride the red bus to Chester Heights then the blue bus to Bronxville and then transfer again to Yonkers.

I can empathize. My dad told me I could try out for sports, but I d have to walk home every day. It s about three and a half miles and after running my ass off for two hours it s a long walk, especially in the winter when it s dark and cold. Sometimes I walked across the Siwanoy golf course and the parkway. It s shorter that way, but last year I got my senior license and now I can drive which is good because I play football and baseball, too, and the baseball field is down in the Village of Tuckahoe. There s a bus back to school, but it takes almost half an hour to get there.

You know, I ve never even been to a high school game of any kind.

Would you like to come with me Friday night? It s going to be a big game. Tuckahoe is a really small school and we re going to play New Rochelle. My mom went there and she told me that they had more than 3,000 students then. I think they still have that or more. They ll be a real challenge. They want to break our win streak. It s up to 105 now; a state record.

I d love to go. What time?

I d have to pick you up at about 5:45 so have a bite to eat first. I ll take you out for pizza after if you like.

That sounds great. What should I wear?

Jeans or slacks and a blouse, but nothing too heavy because the gym is always jammed and it gets hot. She nodded her agreement and we rose from the booth. I paid the bill, tipped the waitress and led Barbara back to my Jeep. I drove her around the block where she showed me to the entrance to her apartment. She lived on the second floor above a number of retail stores; a far cry from where I lived in a big house on a big lot on a quiet street.

I phoned Barbara on Wednesday evening as we had agreed. She had read about our Tuesday game against Concordia, a Lutheran private school only about two miles from mine. We destroyed them, 96 to 40. We had an outstanding group of seniors. Any one of the five of us could score double figures at any time and we all did in this game and we also had two skilled subs with good experience. I d had 40 and I only played three quarters. Our point guard, Tony, had twenty-two assists, but there was nothing unusual about that.

We spoke for almost an hour and I did get to speak briefly with her foster mother, Mrs. Gleason, who told me that Barbara was really looking forward to our date on Friday. I was looking forward to it, too. Most girls were dwarfed by my six feet six inch, two hundred and twenty pound frame and Barbara was no exception. I estimated her height at five feet nine inches and she was slender with medium-sized breasts and shapely hips. Her face was absolutely beautiful in my opinion; perfectly oval and symmetrical with sparkling blue eyes and a small nose; nicely framed by shoulder-length lustrous reddish brown hair. I was sure that I had a good hundred pounds on her. Looking back, I was sure I d fallen in love at first sight.

The weather was cold and clear Friday night when I rang the bell at her apartment. An elderly woman I correctly assumed was Mrs. Gleason opened the door on the second floor. She greeted me warmly and smiled when I gave her the bouquet of flowers I had bought for her. I was met by Mr. Gleason just inside the living room where he thanked me for stopping Barbara from falling. I m a bank guard now so I don t make a lot of money and Barbara doesn t have great health insurance from Social Services so any kind of injury would have been a burden on us. Of course, her welfare always comes first. I realized then that Barbara hadn t told them much about our lengthy conversation.

She appeared from a door across the living room and I could tell she was shocked by my attire. I was wearing a blue sports jacket with a white button-down shirt and a blue and gold striped tie with charcoal gray slacks and cordovan loafers. I laughed as she approached. You re probably wondering why I m all dressed up when I told you to dress casually. I have to dress up for games. It s a team rule, but I have some casual clothes in my car. We said good night to the Gleason s and walked quickly down the stairs to the street where I led her not to my Jeep, but to my 61 Olds Starfire convertible.

Where s the Jeep? You have two cars?

Yeah, I rent a garage a couple of blocks from my home and keep one of my cars there. The Jeep is great in bad weather, but the ride is really harsh and the heater stinks. I held the door for her then sat behind the wheel and started the Olds powerful V8 engine. Two minutes later we were on the parkway on our way to my school.

I need to warn you; well, maybe not warn you, but I do need to tell you what will happen when we get there. The gym will be packed; it always is. The school is old; built in the early 1930 s; and the gym is small. They probably violate every fire regulation ever created by packing people in at every game. They even have a TV camera that broadcasts to the cafeteria just downstairs to accommodate all of the people. I ll introduce you to my family; my mom and dad and my two youngest sisters. I have three, all younger than me, but Angela who s in tenth grade is a cheerleader. Mom and Dad are saving a seat for you. There are four men who always sit behind them. They ll get up when we walk in so I can lie down and meditate. I clear my mind of everything and go into a kind of trance until the end of the third quarter of the JV game when I wake up and go into the locker room to dress for the game. I always hug and kiss my mom and dad and my sisters and I ll do the same with you if that s okay. I ve asked my mom to speak with you once I m in the locker room.

Why? What about?

I ll let her tell you. It s nothing bad. Okay, that s the school just ahead. I pulled into the parking lot and found a place to park, grabbing my bag and locking the car before walking Barbara to the entry. I had timed our arrival well. The first half of the JV game had just ended. The teams were just walking off the floor when everyone stood and began screaming, FREAK! FREAK! FREAK! I waved my acknowledgment and turned to Barbara. Sorry, I forgot to warn you about that. They get a little carried away. That s what all the kids call me; kind of like a nickname.

We walked along the end of the court as I pointed to the four state championship banners hanging from the wall at the other end. Behind us was another with my name and number. What s that, Barbara asked.

The school board retired my number last year which is really strange. They usually wait until a person has graduated before doing that. I introduced her to my parents and to my sisters; Marie and Carole. The four men greeted me then rose and stood while I laid my coat and sports jacket on the bleacher. A minute later I was in a deep trance, one that wiped my brain clean of any extraneous thoughts. When I roused myself there was only the game on my mind. I stood and, after thanking the men again, I hugged and kissed my dad and mom then my sisters and finally Barbara who surprised me by turning her head so my lips fell on hers. She broke it with a smile as I walked down the court to our locker room.

Jack had just entered the locker room when I turned to speak with Barbara. Did Jack tell you that

Never Have I Ever.

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Dawkins Blog) — Sat, 18 Jul 2026 01:15:00 +0000

Never Have I Ever.

Cass finds the stud in her buddy Andrew.

Based on a post by SmallTownPrincess. Listen to the Podcast at My first Time.

Cassie gasped, jumping in her seat as the clap of thunder and splitting bolt of lightning across the screen lit the theater like daylight for an instant. In her momentary panic, she grabbed at the armrest, the fingers of her left hand finding instead the warm forearm of her fellow movie-goer and best friend, Andrew.

Their met eyes for a moment, hers still wide with residual surprise and his glittering with amusement. With a blush for her silly panic and for the unexpected touch, she took her hand away, crossing her arms across her stomach and turning her face back to the screen.

Recently, for reasons she couldn't entirely understand, Cassie had begun to feel awkward around Andrew.

Too often she found herself blushing for small things, or giggling nervously, or losing the courage to do things like brush a hand through his hair or jump on his back for a piggy-back ride; things that a few months earlier she would have done without thinking.

It was their stupid friend Margaret who'd started it, with her talk of "friends with benefits." Cassie had never considered the idea that her tall, gangly Andy could be, as Margaret had put it, "a certified hottie." They'd been friends for so long that she could no longer hold herself far enough away from him to be able to see him with an objective, appraising eye.

Andrew's lips suddenly brushed her ear as he leaned over close to whisper to her, and she nearly jumped again. "The scary part's coming," he murmured, offering his shoulder as a place for her to hide her eyes.

Ah, this was why she loved him so. Who else would understand how much she loved horror films; and how deeply they terrified her? Who would take the time to go to these films first without her, then come back to see them a second time, ready to point out all the really horrific scenes so that she could hide her face and not be scarred beyond belief?

No doubt he would also stay with her after the movie tonight, curled in an uncomfortable ball on the floor next to her bed to act as her protector. He snored and drooled and would probably sleep through the apocalypse, but somehow having him there still made her feel better.

When the film ended, the heroine narrowly escaping by boat as the only survivor, Cassie and Andrew filed out into the chilly, early autumn night. Cassie shivered, and Andrew dropped a friendly arm around her shoulders.

"Did you like it?" Cassie asked.

"It was alright. Definitely better this time than when I watched it by myself. Your reactions are priceless," Andrew said with a laugh.

"I can't help it! I jump at the jumps, I'm scared of the scary parts; that's what's supposed to happen when you go see a horror movie!"

"I wasn't complaining. I'm amused."

"Hey, I saw you jump a little when he came out from under the shed to grab that girl's ankles."

"Strictly for your benefit. I am never scared."

"Oh? Well, good. You can stay up and keep watch tonight. Make sure no creepers come in my house in the middle of the night to chop me up for their stew."

Andrew stifled a yawn, shaking his head. "An all-night vigil? Fat chance of that. You'd have to stay up with me."

Immediately, Cassie began to think of ways she might keep him awake, each a little more risqué than the last, and she blushed again. What was it about him tonight that made her think such silly thoughts? He was joking with her, being her almost-brotherly friend as he always had been. The flirtatious edge was something she was imagining, she knew.

"Whatever you want, just keep the monsters away from me!" Cassie cried with a melodramatic wave of her arms. She ducked out from under his arm, darted the last few feet to the door of his car and leapt inside.

The drive to her house was quiet, each of them thinking their own private thoughts in companionable silence. Once they got to the house, Cassie began to feel again a twinge of that fear she had experienced in the theater. The darkness, the quiet, the sense of waiting, it unnerved her enough that she let Andrew lead the way through the front door, clinging to his arm as if that would save her if some slasher movie antagonist were waiting on the other side.

"I don't want to go to sleep yet," Cassie said as they marched to her room, Andrew turning on lights as they went. "I'm all antsy. Let's play a game or something, huh?"

Cassie had a grand total of three board games, one of which was nothing more than a sticky Candy Land board, devoid of any cards or playing pieces; there was little there with which to while away the evening hours.

"Let's play Never Have I Ever," Cassie suggested, and Andrew shrugged, his preferred signal of acquiescence.

They sat on either end of her bed, both cross-legged, facing each other and hugging pillows in their laps. Each of them held up all ten fingers, ready to play.

"Never have I ever...read Hamlet," Andrew said by way of starting. Cassie shook her head.

"No, that's boring!"

"What? We always do stuff like that."

Lady Mary. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Chapter 1

I grew up in a very conservative family. My father was the boss in the family business, which was created by his father, which was my grandfather. My mother took care of the house and the children, whatever else she wanted to do the approval had to be given by my father. A wife was to be her husband's adornment and calling card; I, my sisters and brothers were brought up with this motto.

Cecily? Father is calling you. I was pulled out of the activity by the voice of one of the brothers, Arthur.

I am on my way. I nod as I put my knitting aside. I run it over the fabric of my blue dress a few times to smooth it out and present myself impeccably in front of my father.

My father was a traditionalist. Together with our mother they took care of our impeccable dress. Especially the girls. Our dresses, because that was all we could wear, usually reached our ankles or mid-calf. Anything shorter was inappropriate. Tights were also compulsory. My family believed that ladies from good homes should always have them.

I nod in respect as I enter my father's study. He sits in his swivel leather-covered chair, looking as perfect as ever in his suit trousers and white shirt, ironed by my mother.

He said in a cordial tone, indicating a chair for me to sit down, then said; Mother praises you immensely, you have become a great help to her. I am extremely pleased about that.

Thank you, Father. Praise always makes me happy. I said with a smile.

Therefore, Father puts the stack of papers aside. I thought you were mature enough to think about your household .

My household? I repeated in surprise. I felt my face turn white.

This is what awaits every woman. I thought my mother and I had instilled this in you all. The man walks around the desk and sits on its edge almost beside me so that he can brush his fingertips against my cheeks. You are our great pride. You will be the same for your husband. Lucky him.

So... who will it be? I ask timidly.

You will find out in time. You will like it. Of that I am certain. Father blinks one eyelid at me. First the engagement and a few... procedures involved.

Procedures? I asked.

Your mother will prepare you. You have nothing to fear. Well... That is all. You may return to your duties, my child.

Thank you, father. I bow my head before I leave my father's office.

My preparations for the nuptials began almost immediately... although I did not know to whom I would be married. I also still didn't know anything about the procedures I was to go through and my father had mentioned them.

The doctor will be with you shortly, lie still, my lady. The maid instructed me.

In fact, there was nothing wrong with me, but it was necessary for the engagement to be announced. That is what mother and one of my brothers said.

So I was fulfilling a commitment. I lay in my huge bed, dressed in something like a nightdress, but much shorter than a standard one, for here the linen material ended above my knee.

I didn't wait too long as the door to my room soon opened. I saw a man with blonde hair and at first sight he was two heads taller than me.

He placed his brown leather bag on the table that was next to the bed.

Lady Cecily? I'm doctor Mason. I am here to confirm your readiness for the sacrament of marriage. I understand that this is your first examination of this kind, but I assure you that you have nothing to fear. The young doctor sent me a weak smile. At first, I ask you to move down toward the base of the bed and spread your legs.

What? I could not believe what I had just heard. Red was on my cheeks almost immediately.

Lady Cecily. It would be far better for yourself to do it voluntarily. Neither of us wants it to be unpleasant, do we? he warned.

I obediently move down and spread my thighs. I seek solace in looking at the ceiling of my bedroom. It was decorated with hierubines that were supposed to watch over the cleanliness and good conduct of the girls.

Wider. Lady Cecily, I will have to say a word to your father and husband-to-be. None of them will be pleased.

Excuse me... I never... I'm at a loss for words, but I spread my legs as he asks me. This contributes to the material of the garment falling up over my stomach and the man can now see my femininity.

It's very nice... I feel the touch of a stranger's single fingers on me. In a place so carefully hidden. The blonde man takes a seat on the stool between my legs. I can see the hymen. It is not too thin That's good. Your spouse will be pleased with this gift. Are you sinning?

Am I sinning? I ask almost in a whisper.

Have you ever touched yourself in a sinful way? In places... that you shouldn't have? Don't lie. I'm a representative of the church. God listens and can punish.