Doomsday Trickery

Lauren found her roommate in front of her computer aghast at what she was seeing. On the screen some whackjob preacher was saying how the world was doomed to end in a week and a half. Lauren knew her roommate was a bit strange in the religion department, but she had no clue that she was this gullible.



"Oh no!" Christy said as she heard her friends footsteps behind her. "It's doomsday. Maybe the rapture. I don't know. But we're all done for."

"That's all nonesense Chris and you know it."

"No, it's real. This guy is a real bonafida prophet."

"He's never been wrong."

For an hour she tried to convince her friend that it was nonesense but after a while Christy started becoming truly offended at her attempts to dissuade her.



"Fine!" She finally declared in frustration. "The world is ending. So what?"

And then Christy started crying. Damn, what have I done now? Lauren thought to herself. She knew her friend was rather sensitive, even for a girly girl, but she could usually avoid hurting her feelings."

Playing up to the girl's beliefs she asked, "Why are you crying? Won't you be happy to go to heaven if it is the rapture?"

"It isn't that Lauren." She looked up at her with tears in her eyes.

"Well," Lauren said softly, "What is it then?"

"I had a life I wanted to live."

"Don't we all?" Lauren said somewhat regretfully casting a shamefaced glance down at Christy's alluring legs and then quickly back up before her friend noticed.

Christy stood and held her friend as if for dear life and cried on her shoulder.

"But, I didn't want the kind of life most people would expect from me. I'm dirty. Bad."

Now that was something Lauren had never heard from her before. You think you know someone, she thought to herself.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't."

"Can't what?"

"Tell you about it. I'm too ashamed."

"You know you can tell me anything right? We've been friends for four years now. If you don't know you can trust me by now, then I don't know what to say."

"It sin. It isn't trust. I can't say the words. I'm ashamed."

Her friend was so distraught she considered for a moment as the poor girl cried on her shoulder. What she really needed was to let go of her inhibitions. At least enough to confide in her. The only thing Lauren knew that worked and was readily available, was....

"Alcohol." She finished aloud.

"What?" Christy asked.

"I'm going to get you drunk my dear."

"Good Christian girls don't drink."

"I know. But the world is ending anyway, so might as well experience it at least once. Right?"

"Well," Christy started, "If I repent in the morning and ask for forgiveness I guess it will be alright. I mean, we're all going to be gone in a week and a half anyway. Right?"

"That's the spirit," Lauren told her, rolling her eyes at her friends weirdness. She grabbed Christy's hand and led her to the car."

This promised to be an interesting weekend she thought as they drove. Christy was absolutely silent during the drive and Lauren was completely flustered as to what to say to her friend. How could she cheer her up without offending her friends weird beliefs? She had been religious since they'd met. The first night they shared their appartment Christy had tried to convert her, bible in hand. It had been a bit awkward for a while, but Christy had apparently, eventually, decided to accept her status as a "sinner" who couldn't be saved, and Lauren chose to do the same for her. And they'd gotten along great ever since.

She often wondered if her friend were a closet lesbian. She didn't date men. Of course she had her religious reseason for saving herself for marriage, but Lauren was pretty sure a good Christian girl could at least date a man to find out if she wanted to marry him. Even if the date had to have a chaperone or something. But Christy never even mentioned guys. Maybe she plans on saving herself for Christ, she thought acidly, and with a tinge of regret.

Lauren was a lesbian. In the beginning that had been a big part of their conflict that made Lauren think she'd have to find a new roommate before Christy's sudden acceptance of the fact that she wasn't going to be converted. That had been a relief. But sometimes Lauren wished she and Christy had been unable to come to terms with each other. She found Christy very attractive and had often fantasized that the woman she was with on any given night was Christy. It was unfair to her lover of course, but she couldn't help it. It was almost always a test of her self control. It was why her lovemaking sessions were often rough. It was also why she had never gone on more than three or four dates with the same woman. At least not after the first year they had lived together. Despite the fact that Christy was such a weirdo when it came to religious belief, she was a good, kind, and caring friend. She did more than her share of the housework. She even cleaned Lauren's room for her once in a while though at first that was a bit weird. She defintely cooked more than her fair share as well. In some ways Christy was a bit disturbing. She had apparently fallen for the old religious beliefs about woman's place in life. What a waste it would be to have her friend marry some guy and live the life that religions like that map out for women.

In the liquor store she bought a couple of kinds of beer, some sweet wine, vodka, orange juice, tequila and seven up. The store clerk had someone help her load it into the car and Christy showed how naive she was about that sort of thing when she asked, " Will that be enough?"

Lauren laughed. "Sweetie, that could get an army of good Christian girls like you drunk."

Christy's eyes widened.

"I don't know what you'll like so I bought a wide variety."

"That must have cost a lot of money I'm sure Lauren, can I pitch in?"

Lauren knew Christy didn't make a lot of money at her job at the church. But she also knew that Christy was adamant about paying her fair share. She always paid her rent on time, and her share of the bills, even when it meant she had to walk to work instead of spending a little money on bus fair. So she told a little white lie.

"Of course you can dear, your share would come to twenty dollars."

"Exactly twenty?" Christy asked.

"Well, twenty and a bit of change, but what's a few cents between friends?"

Christy smiled and got twenty dollars out of her purse and handed it to Lauren.

Then she blushed and took out another quarter and set it in the change holder mounted in the dash. Lauren smiled and inwardly shook her head.

Once home the ladies took two trips to get it all inside.

"What do you want to try first?" Lauren asked her as her friend sat on the floor and leaned back against the sofa.

"I don't know. I've never even tasted that stuff."

"Ok, we'll try you on some beer first. It doesn't pack as much punch as some of the other stuff."

"Will it get me drunk? I mean, if I'm going to have to repent tomorrow, I want to have something to repent."

Christy looked a little shamefaced but eager. Lauren laughed.

Christy wasn't her only friend with weird religious beliefs. Her friend Mark was a druid apparently. He was also gay. That didn't matter to her of course as she had no attraction to him or him to her, but she often thought it was funny to think of a gay druid. Not that she knew why she found it funny. She loved him a great deal and valued his friendship. He had been the one she confided in of her pain regarding Christy. He sympathized, at least emotionally. He had told her he had once been in love with a straight guy. He had made the mistake of confiding his love to his beloved, and that was the end of the friendship.

Lauren grabbed them each a beer and handed one to Christy. "Shouldn't we get glasses?" Christy asked.

"Definitely not." Lauren said, "When you're having an end of the world party you absolutely have to drink from the can. It's an unwritten rule."

Christy laughed. Even she wasn't that naive. She pried open the top and started to lift it to her lips.

"Wait. We need a toast," Lauren said.

"Oh, let me, I've never toasted anything before. Well, aside from bread."

Lauren had to laugh at that. She nodded and waited while Christy seemed deep in thought. Apparently she wanted to make it a good one.

She stood and raised her can of beer and said, "To the end of the world, and the shedding of burdens, and the freeing of spirits to find heaven!"

Lauren suppressed a laugh. Her friend was dead serious. Oh well, she thought and smiled wistfully as she raised her can in reply and drank.

Christy downed half the can in one go. Lauren laughed and reached over and pulled the can down and said,"Whoa there girl, you're going to make yourself sick chugging like that."

"Oh. I thought that was how you were supposed to drink beer."

"Well, maybe the young men do that at frat parties, but anyone with any sense takes it a squitch slower than that."

"Oh."

"So how do you like beer?"

"It's, uhm, icky," Christy said, then burst out giggling.

"Oh. Ya well beer is an acquired taste. Let me get you some vodka. You like orange juice right?"

"Oh, I love orange juice. But I have to finish my beer. Waste not want not."

"Ok then," Lauren laughed. She had never seen her friend act this way. She was usually far more reserved. It worried her a little.

Lauren avoided asking any serious questions until Christy had drunk two full glasses of vodka and orange. She had of course finished the beer as promised even though she obviously dind't like it. She knew it was time to begin the conversation when she returned with a third glass of vodka and orange and her friend was absentmindedly staring at her feet as she approached. She was wearing black open toed sandals and nylon stockings and Christy smiled dreamily for a moment as Laurend reached down to hand her the glass.

"You have such pretty feet," Christy said, "And your nail polish is beautiful." And then she giggled.

"Ok, you're definitely getting drunk. I think it's time we talked about what you couldn't say earlier."

"I can't. I can't tell you." Christy said and Lauren started rolling her eyes. "I'm sorry, it's not in me to say the words. Not yet anyway."

"If you drink too much more my dear, you'll pass out and then you won't have said anything anyway."

"You're my friend. I care about you a great deal and I want you to be happy. Talk to me."

"I can't," Christy shuddered, but before Lauren could express her irritation Christy went on, "but... I can show you."

"Huh?" Lauren asked intelligently, as her irritation was replaced by surprise.

"Please come with me," Christy said and stood shakily. She wobbled a bit on her heels before regaining her balance.

"You should probably take your shoes off hon, you're going to fall on your head."

"Ok," Christy agreed readily and gingerly stepped out of them and then knelt and arranged them neatly by the front door. Christy was always a bit of a nut that way.

Finally she stood again and led Lauren to her bedroom.

She sat at her computer and warmed up. Thne she pulled up her internet browser and Lauren's eyes nearly popped out of her head when Christy pulled up a website full of erotic stories.

Christy was blushing beet red and couldn't look Lauren in the eyes, but she pulled up an author named 'boundinchains' and quietly asked Lauren to read this authors stories.



Lauren of course was staring at her puritan friend like she had lost her mind, or one of them had anyway, but she moved to the chair Christy vacated. Her friend was obviously in distress, and despite her own issues, she wanted to help. But the stories astounded her.

Christy went and got them both more alcohol as Lauren started reading.



The first story was a lesbian romance, with subtle hints of a controlling relationship that seemed to have a few religous undertones. It also had undertones of the BDSM lifestyle that Lauren had flirted with from time to time. There was nothing overtly kinky in the story, but the way the author wrote told her more than what was actually written.

She downed her drink to try to cool the fire that was spreading through her body at the thought of her beautiful and oh so puritan friend being turned on by this story. She looked over at Christy who was curled up on the bed with her eyes gazing off into space occasionally sipping her drink.

"This is uhm, different than what I'd expect to find you reading sweetie," Lauren started but Christy came out of her distracted state and said "Please read them all and then we can talk. I 'm too ashamed."

Christy stood up and said, "We need more alcohol."



Lauren handed her friend her glass and then returned to reading. The next story was more overtly kinky. The religious undertones were still there, but the lesbian relationship was definitely more in line with the 'I say, you do' style of the kinky lifestyle. Lauren's mind was exploding and she harboured lustful thoughts about her oh so pretty roommate.

Christy brought her glass back full and she hardly noticed.

Another story later, when Christy brought yet another drink she realized she hadn't even drunk the last one, though she thought Christy had drunk hers. Christy seemed quite tipsy. Lauren wanted to keep her head, and she didn't want Christy to pass out before they had their chat so she said, "Quit it with the alcohol for now. We'll have more later. Ok?"

"Ok," Christy said quietly and put her glass down next to Laurens two full ones and lay back down on her bed.

Lauren was becoming hotter and hotter as she read. The stories, and there were five of them, were a bit immature in that it was obviously someone inexperienced writing them, but they were imaginative, and they became hotter and hotter and more and more overtly kinky. And they were all lesbian. The last one was all lifestyle all the way through. The relationship between a slave and her beautiful owner. But there was a constant thread of love all through them all. Despite some of the humiliating acts that the Dominant woman made her slave do in the last story.

Her juices flowed and her panties were wet enough that she worried for a moment that she'd leak through her skirt onto her roommates chair. But as she finished the last story she turned toward her friend and saw that Christy had her hand down her own skirt, but when she saw Lauren turn toward her she pulled it out and acted as if nothing had happened. Lauren for her part, pretended not to have seen though that stunned her just as much as the stories.



"Ok Christy," she started, "I've read them all. And I have to say that I feel it's very unkind of you. I haven't been with anyone in a while and stories like this can be frustrating if you're alone."

"I'm sorry, Lauren," Christy said in a quiet voice as she got off the bed and came close to Lauren. She knelt down in front of her friend and looked at the floor

"What are you doing reading this kind of stuff anyway? It's very unlike you. Or is that the problem?"

"I didn't just read them," she replied, and her voice went down to a whisper. "I wrote them."



Lauren couldn't believe her ears, but Christy went on. "I imagine the characters in the story are you and me." She hiccupped as that last part came out.

Lauren felt the world shifting under her feet. "What? Did you want to dominate me then?"

"No. I want you to dominate me. I want you to own me. I want to be your slave. I want to be your toy. Your possession. Your property. I want you to use me, and punish me, and reward me, and love me....At least until the world ends."

Desperate to find some sense Lauren asked, "I thought this was against your religion?"

"If I'm your slave then it's ok. My pastor told me that as property slaves weren't responsible for anything except in how they served their owners and that they are still honoured in heaven after they die."

"Well slavery is illegal now dear."

"But I have a contract we can sign. And according to the bible if you agree to something, then it's binding."

Lauren felt like she had drunk far more than she had. The world was spinning around her. She figured one of them must have gone crazy and it was probably her. So she decided she had to talk to someone who was always, well, almost always, sane.

"You stay right there," she said, letting some of her bewilderment out as anger.

She ran out of the room and put in a quick call to her friend Mark.

Luckily he wasn't out or otherwise occupied. At first he asked her "Have you been drinking." She replied. "Yes, with Christy!"

"With Christy?" He asked, "What is going on? Did hell freeze over?" Then he had to get her to slow down. She took a deep breath and she told him everything that had happened. His laughter came over the phone very clearly.

"Why are you laughing?" She demanded. "This is serious."

"Oh, why am I not surprised," He mused. "It's always the ones you least expect," and he laughed for a few moments longer until Laurens irritation peaked and she said, "Well what the hell am I supposed to do with her?"

He laughed harder and asked, "Why are you asking me? I've never been with a woman before."

"I mean in the long term you idiot!. She's only doing this cause she thinks the world is ending. Her religion has her so messed up that she'll believe any old thing she see's on youtube. What happens if I take her up on this and when she wakes up after the world was supposed to end and finds herself between my legs?"



He said, "The world's got to end sometime."



Then he laughed even harder. Then he got very serious for a moment. "Listen love, she obviously needs this. She has rationalized it with her religious beliefs which are very strong according to what you've told me about her, into something she can accept so that she can be happy. It's something we humans are rather good at. That sort of thing is inevitable. We always do it when needed. Or we break apart into a million pieces. She will in fact find an answer to this need of hers one way or another. Either with you, or eventually, with some stranger who may or may not care for her as much as you do." He paused and went on, "You do still care for her don't you?"

"You know I do."

"Well, so what is the problem? Haven't you told me of your domination fantasies?"

"Well, I don't know if I'm as serious about it as her stories are," she stopped herself, "that's not the point you idiot. This will ruin our friendship!"

He replied, "I think Christy just took you way out past it and your treatment of her at this point could in fact ruin your friendship. But if you take her up on her offer I'm sure that if you love each other you could come to some balance that pleased you both."

"She's drunk, and she's crazy. Or I am. I don't know which anymore."

Mark laughed again and she could tell he thought this was all very funny.

He said, "This is the funniest thing I've heard in months. The woman you have secretly lusted for, for the last couple of years, has offered you everything you could ever want from her and you're talking to me on the phone."

She wanted to bitch at him more but she started to see his point.

He paused in his laughter to quietly ask, "Where is she now?"

"She was kneeling on the floor and I told her to stay put so I could come find some sanity, but I haven't found any here you jerk!'

"You left her drunk and alone kneeling on the floor to stir in her own fear, doubt, shame, and misery, and I'm the jerk?" He asked quietly.

Maintenance

Sammy sat in semi darkness, staring at the introductory video. It was the first of three days of the orientation at the hospital and all new hires were required to attend. Barely an hour since she had returned from her lunch break, the young intern was bored. The room had 6 conference tables in neat lines, new employees of various departments all facing the front of the room. A group of scrub clad nurses huddled around one table, not so quietly whispering about clinic hours. They seemed to know each other. She wished she had known she could wear scrubs. Assuming the orientation was more a part of the interview process, she had opted for a tasteful skirt and boots and a simple cowl neck sweater. With very few exceptions, most everyone else was wearing what they would normally wear to work.

She looked at the older man next to her. He was wearing a blue utilitarian jumpsuit with "maintenance" stenciled across the left chest. He looked to be in his 50's, his elegant skin the color of a latte.

He was tipped back in his chair and looked equally as bored. Sammy wondered if what they said about black men was true and stole a glance at his crotch. She could see the faint outline of something resting along the inside of his thigh. "Really?" she thought, "down to the middle of his thigh?" Sammy felt a rush a heat run through her body and she squeezed her thighs together. The maintenance worker followed her gaze and a grin spread across his face. He dropped his chair back down on all four legs with a thud and gave her a wink.

Sammy immediately looked down, crossed her arms under her full breasts and allowed her long brown ponytail to cover her face. His eye contact and wink had sent a shockwave right to her middle and she could feel herself getting wet. She tried to focus on the screen, but couldn't get that man's huge member out of her mind. It was the longest thing she's ever seen and although it was hard to tell through his clothes, appeared to be pretty thick as well. She was afraid to look up, but could feel his gaze on her. As he reached across her to retrieve a pamphlet from the stack on front of her, he brushed his arm across her breasts, lingering long enough to make her wonder if it wasn't intentional. Sammy's nipples instinctively tightened and became visible through her sweater. The man stared down at them for a long moment before returning his eyes to the screen at the front of the room. Sammy was on fire. This was insane. This man was a stranger to her and probably twice her age.

Sammy shifted her weight and allowed their thighs to barely touch. The man applied slightly more pressure to their bond. Sammy felt a blush run up the inside of her legs and settle in her clit. Becoming increasingly warm, Sammy took a chance and placed her hand over the man's. He stroked the side of her thumb with his. Sammy started to squirm. The man grabbed her hand and pulled it into his lap. Shielded by the table, Sammy zeroed in on the object of her arousal. She let go of the man's hand and softly ran her hand over his crotch. She traced the outline of his cock from his crotch about mid-thigh. She wrapped her hand around it the best she could through his jumpsuit and felt it twitch and grow.

He laid his hand over hers and squeezed. His dick was exquisite; long and hard and about as thick as her wrist. Sammy's panties were getting wetter by the second and she felt her clit start to grow. She reluctantly let go of his cock and pulled his hand between her legs. His rough hands caught on her silky underwear and he ran his finger down her slit. Feeling the dampness of her panties, he pushed them into her clit and rubbed in small circles. Sammy drew in a quick breath and started to grind into his finger. He moved her panties to the side and dipped into her wetness.

Sammy glanced around the room and was satisfied to see that everyone else seemed to be busy doing their own thing; reading from folders or quietly talking. The man's finger pressed into her steaming center and penetrated her. He moved it in and out several times before pulling out and discretely holding it to his nose. He inhaled deeply, and then quietly popped the finger in his mouth. Sammy was delirious with the rush of it all and her dripping pussy was screaming for more. The man wrote something down, then stood up and left the room. Sammy glanced at the paper.

It read, "Wait 5 minutes, then meet me outside."

Was she really going to do this? Her pussy was on fire and she desperately wanted to feel that huge cock fill her up. Sammy glanced at her watch. Her panties were still bunched to one side and the air on her over heated pussy felt dirty and erotic. She gyrated her hips subtly to increase the wind and was rewarded by a gush of wetness, a tiny drop of which she felt dripping down the inside of her thigh. Five minutes felt like an eternity. Finally the time was up and she silently made her way to the door in the back of the conference room.

As soon as she closed the door behind her, the man grabbed her hand and pulled her toward a janitorial closet. He opened the door and flipped the light on. The room was full of cleaning supplies with a bar height shelf across the back. After he locked the door behind him, the man approached Sammy.

He stood in front of her for a moment and looked her up and down. He lifted his hands and took her hard nipples between his fingers, rolling them roughly. Sammy threw her head back in ecstasy. His rough hands grabbed the neck of her sweater and pulled it down under her breasts. Reaching into her black, lacy bra, he lifted each breast out leaving her tits exposed. He roughly squeezed them with both hands. He leaned in close and whispered, "You're just a dirty slut, aren't you? I saw you looking at my cock. You want to know what it feels like to be fucked by a huge, black cock, don't you."

Sammy's breath became ragged as she hissed out, "Yesssssssss."

"Then get on your knees and grab your heels."

Sammy obediently dropped to her knees and reached behind her to grab the heels on her boots, a vulnerable position that had the bonus side effect of thrusting her full breasts forward. The man unzipped his jumpsuit and pulled out his enormous, engorged cock. Sammy's eye bulged and her clit grew. It was even bigger than she imagined. His big strong hands barely reached around it's girth. He held it in one hand and slapped it against her chin. "Suck my cock, bitch." He breathed. " Open your fucking mouth."

Sammy opened her mouth as wide as she could. He set the head of his dick just inside her mouth and she sucked it hungrily. Without warning, the man grabbed the back of head with both hands and rammed his huge cock down her throat. She gagged hard, and she felt her lips stretching but he didn't let up. He continued to ram his dick in and out of her throat. Just when she thought she would pass out from lack of air, he pulled out. She finally got a good look at it from this angle and reveled in its massiveness. It was rock hard and stood proudly dripping with her saliva. She let go of her heels and took it in her hand. "You like that cock?"

"God, yes. I want it inside me. I want it in my pussy."

He grabbed a handful of her hair. "Stand up."

She rose to her feet and he pushed her over to the counter. Still holding her hair in his fist, he pushed her face into the counter. "Grab that counter and put your ass in the air."

Sammy did what she was told. He pushed her skirt up around her waist and jerked her panties down around her ankles. Sammy quickly stepped out of them and spread her legs wide. She felt the man poke her with the head of his cock a few times before he slapped her ass hard, two, three times. Her skinned burned and she felt like she could still feel the shape of his hand. The man rubbed his huge cock up and down her slit. "Christ, you're wet. You are just a little whore aren't you? You want this fucking black cock, don't you? Don't you?!"

"Yes! Please put it in my pussy. Please!" She felt the walls of her pussy stretch as he pushed the head inside her. "Oh, God! You're so fucking huge!"

"You got a tight little pussy! God you're so tight!"

"Push it in. Please! I can't take anymore. I need you to fuck me!" Sammy was breathless and wild with desire. She was so ready. She needed his cock.

"tell me you're a whore."

"Oh, God, I'm a whore. I'm such a dirty fucking whore. Fuck me. Please fuck me."

The man pushed hard and rammed into her balls deep. She let out a sharp yelp and moaned loudly. He backed out and thrust all the way in again. He bent over her and whispered, "Can you take it? Is it stretching your little tight pussy?" He thrust again. Sammy continued to moan, nearly unconscious with pleasure. Her pussy was stretched to the max and she could feel him hitting the back of her hole with each thrust. She felt so full and so fucking dirty. She wanted more.

"So good...so good." Was all she could mutter between gasps. The man grabbed a fist full of hair again and starting fucking her hard and fast. He started grunting like an animal, the sound mingling with her moans.

"Take it! Take it! God you're such a fucking tight slut!" he hissed as he continued to pump into her roughly. He let go of her hair and reached around with both hands to hold on to her tits. He squeezed them hard and he rammed into her, his heavy balls slapping into her swollen clit with every plunge.

Suddenly Sammy gasped and began to shudder. Her orgasm ripped through her like a tidal wave and she squeezed the huge cock even harder.

"Did you just fucking come on my cock? Goddamn, you just came on my cock!"

"Yesssss." was all Sammy could muster as her pussy clamped down hard and her whole body began to shake.

The man began to grunt louder, and his strokes became faster and harder. He growled, "I'm gonna fucking cum in you. I'm gonna fill you with my fucking cum because you're such a nasty whore."

His words triggered another powerful climax and Sammy squeezed his cock even harder. With a final, primal grunt the man emptied his sperm into her dripping cunt. She felt it fill her pussy and begin to drip out onto the concrete floor. The man collapsed over her back, panting. He pulled out of her with a "pop," and more of his cum dripped down her leg onto the floor. He pushed her hair off her neck and bit firmly into her shoulder and pulled on her nipples. Sammy shuddered with pleasure. The man released her and reached over her head to grab a roll of paper towels, which he handed to her before stepping away. When she turned around to face him, he pushed her up against the counter and rammed two fingers into her cunt. "You were a hell of a fuck."

"Yeah. You too." Sammy was panting and she felt dizzy.

He pulled his fingers out of her pussy, wiped his hands on a paper towel, zipped up his jumpsuit and walked out of the closet.

Down by the Riverside

Down by the riverside....

We head off into the bush. Having finished a nice coffee at a country cafe we have driven into the foothills and are parked off the road near my secret spot. You have often heard me speak of my 'secret spot' and mocked me and questions of its' actual existence are often raised. The way my eyes gloss over when ever I bring it up and the dreamy expressions I use. I think that my wistful looks point to it's mythical qualities – you say 'I look stoned'.

The fact that I have never taken anyone there and consequently have no witnesses to it at all, leads you to believe I have imagined some paradise into substance, perhaps only within my mind.

I have never taken anyone there because I haven't wanted to share it and risk them leaking the wonders of this place to others and having to share with throngs who would, without doubt, visit it regularly and do so to it's ultimate detriment.

I have grown to trust you so much so that today is the day you will attend natures pleasure mecca with me. We have had such honest, wicked fun and seem so compatible that I feel I could trust you with anything.... Needless to say, you have been sworn to secrecy in a fun mock ceremony I made up, involving among other things, handcuffs, body oil and some begging behavior on your part. It was silly but fun and we both, as always enjoyed each others minds and bodies to a large degree that night!

I have a light back pack on, jeans and a thick sweatshirt. Though the day is overcast and cool, it is very still. A nice winter's day. You have been asked to wear a dress and have complied, knowing how I like this one in particular. You are surprised at our parking place however and aren't really aware that this is the time that my 'secret spot' will be revealed. The ceremony the few nights previous gave no time or indication as to where the spot might be. I had only said "we should head out for a coffee, or something?" and you had agreed, happy to take some time away from the paper work you had brought home.

The dress request made you raise an eyebrow and smile at me though. I just brushed it off with a smile of my own and vague comment on "how you know I love your legs, and it's only fair the rest of the male public get a peek once in a while to brighten their winter," or some such vague complement. I am sure you weren't convinced but nodded and played along nicely.

When we pulled up on an obscure corner in the foothills that bared no noticeable difference to any of the last 40 corners on our slow, enjoyable drive in the country I could tell you were a little surprised though and I was glad. We were just chatting, about life, colleagues, friends etc and having a laugh at life's simple pleasures. It was really comfortable as always when I just pulled over and stopped.

Before you had to much time to think about it I said "please follow me" and got out of the car, around to your door to open it.

Your look of "what the fuck?" is priceless and I can feel real stirrings in my groin, motivated by you and my anticipation for the time ahead.

While talking, I had been concentrating on things fairly hard and knew exactly where we were. The nondescript piece of bush was the entrance to my 'secret spot' and I had big plans for it (and you).

Fortunately you had chosen to wear flat but nice shoes. We wandered to the edge of the bush and skirted around the first few large trees and were faced with a fairly dense section of scrub and shrubbery. I led you to the foliage and by holding thin branches down we were able to make slow progress into its embrace. After a few minutes of gentle bush bashing and smartass comments like "what kind of bloody abduction is this?" from your cheeky self, we reach a small clearing.

I break into it and turn to face you as you follow me through. I take you in from top to bottom as you walk toward me. I hold out my hands which you take and I pull you in. We have a very tender and gentle kiss which gradually grows in passion as it goes on. I break lightly from your lips and tell you that "before we go any further I will have to remove your underwear. The secret spot is an underwear free zone"

As I return to kiss you, I begin the task of bunching and sliding your dress gradually up and over your hips. The process is a very slow and enjoyable one for us both.

I am delighted to note you have worn a very sleek, white pair of my favorites and I tell you so.

You giggle and reply "if I had known we were going to the 'secret spot' and its harsh rules, I wouldn't have worn any." We both laugh but know it is true.

The day is still but coldish and I don't want you getting too uncomfortable so I slickly slide your panties down your thighs, over your knees and to your ankles, your dress ruled by gravity, sadly falls and re covers your much commented on, assets. You step out of your panties and I make a small show of neatly folding them and admiring them before placing them in my back pack.

"Ok, come on," I offer, trying to break away from another sensational kiss. I could stand there and kiss you all day but it isn't helping complete the mission - Secret Spot.

"Wait a sec" you say "I need to check something" As you close in to kiss me again I feel your cold hand snake its way into the gap at the back of my pants. I push in toward you as your hand rummages around my bare bum crack and ass cheeks. The warmth of your lips is an interesting contrast to the cool of your hand and very exciting. You eventually lean back with a huge grin and say "just checking, we can't have you breaking your own, 'no underwear' rules now can we?"

I laugh at you and am happy that I wore no briefs to avoid getting a 'hypocritical' label from you. Though the feeling of just denim can be a bit rough, I knew it wouldn't be for much longer and so many factors were making me hard now.

I take your hand again and lead you across the thirty meters or so to the other side of the clearing. The other side looks like any other piece of wild New Zealand with a variety of native plants struggling for supremacy with introduced specimens and all, battling for the best light, soil, and water conditions. It looks no different to any where else we have been since entering the greenery so you are a little surprised when I say..."are you ready for paradise?"

You resist mocking me for stupidity and are resigned to a pleasurable romp in a clearing (which wouldn't be too bad after all) and quizzically reply. "I suppose so."

We are no more than 200 meters from the road but you would not know there was another human in existence from where we were. The birds and density of the bush blocks any sound from rare passing cars and no other forms of modern life are evident.

Your expression of semi disappointment makes me chuckle as I walk past you to the stand of huge fern bushes at the clearing edge. I raise a large fern frond and beckon for you to please lead the way. Your expression changes as you can see that by ducking there is a discrete and dark, walk able tunnel through the bush. I admire your body as I follow you into the last part of bush. After only a few meters you can hear a slight hissing which grows into the bubbling of water over rocks as we continue. Ahead the light is better and though it isn't just easy street walking to get there your pace increases in obvious eagerness to see what lies ahead.

As the bush eases it's hold on us, we exit into another clearing and I walk up beside you to catch your expression. Your face is pure gold in astonishment and wonder and I am so happy that you like the place. Now you understand my glossy eyes etc whenever I speak of it.

The scene in front of you is just natures' untouched visual glory. A perfect melt of bush meets pool and trickling stream. Across from us is a thick seemingly impenetrable stand of native bush and trees. Between this wall and the water is a little green belt of pure foot long un trampled grass which in turn simply changes into a small stretch of flat river sand. The creek water laps at the edge there before deepening into a black, still looking pool which stretches over to the rocks on our side. At the high end of the stream the water enters the pool over a small water fall of mossy rocks and at the lower end, then trickles away over glassy looking rocks and around the corner into the bush. To cap off the beauty of the place there is a large fallen log which extends right over the heart of the pool from one rocky side to the sandy and grassed side on the other.

I have been so looking forward to bringing you here and the look on your face is payment enough for sharing its hidden mysteries with you (though I would never tell you that).

"It's, it's beautiful" you finally stammer and add "everything you said and more." Looking at you "I'm glad you like it" I say flatly and obviously but with a huge grin on my face....."but you know what" I add bringing you into a light embrace and looking into your eyes more closely..... "There's more!"

You feel my arousal through my denim and the cotton of your dress and smile, raising an eyebrow realizing that the real fun will start very soon. We kiss again and I feel I am starting to drink in your body and lips physically while we kiss and your firm, yearning body is very, very inviting.

After a few moments of enjoying our physical closeness and the wondrous kissing in this special place I lean away smiling and say "Take me to the beach baby" and point at the other side of the river.

You laugh and take my hand leading me toward the up turned roots of the log which lays across the river. You delicately climb the slippery, gnarled steps of tree root, upward. I watch your sexy ass as the muscles carefully, delicately work you to the top.

I can't help myself and run my hand up your leg from the ankle. The mysteries contained under your skirts never lose their appeal and the raw energy I feel. Just as the cave men did thousands of years ago, you make me want to unceremoniously tear the fabric from your body and fuck you against the log right there. I somehow resist and for the meantime and satisfy my self with a drunken smile and a long stroke smoothly up the inside of your leg before you glide out of reach.

I quickly follow you, scrambling up the log and again watch your sexy, well balanced ass as you guide yourself to the middle of the log, over the deepest part of the water hole.

I summon the most commanding tone I can manage, knowing part of the success of the rest of the day depends on it. "Stop!" is all I say.

Your steady travel across the log titters to a halt at a the skinniest and slippery part of the fallen tree trunk. "Wait there and don't move" I continue, hoping you can manage it.

I make my way toward you as you teeter there in a slightly ungainly but still somehow sexy and vulnerable looking way. Your arms are spread out and I approach you slowly from behind. There is a more level platform right behind you which I know will provide a steadier footing for me. When right behind you I lightly kiss your nape and whisper so as to be barely audible...."thank you for stopping."

"What are you doing?" you say nervously as the cold looking waters below offer little chance to take comfort from my attentions. I love it though as I crouch and begin to lift your hems up. Moving as slowly as I can to help maintain your balance and make the exposing of your body last as long as I possibly can, I raise your dress up. The view of your calves give way to the backs of your knees, then thighs and the crease of your ass appears in front of me. You can feel the tide of your moving fabric revealing yourself to me and the forest. You wouldn't change a thing about anything in this moment and nor would I.

I am very content as I crouch behind your bum and lift the dress further. The gap between your legs is now showing and the bulge in my jeans strains very hard for me, representing the fondness I have for what is in the other side of your shapely buns.... Your pussy.

I hold the dress with only my left hand as my right cups and runs over your beautiful butt. I move closer and again kiss your neck while my fingers gently explore under your crack.... for the sensitive regions. You lightly moan your approval at the attention and wobble a little as your focus switches between your balance and seeking pleasure.

As my exploring continues on your tentatively willing body, I mention that "I would like you to turn and face me...."

You tremble, "I don't think I can" is your response as you consider the difficult log and the mossy slippery state of it, combined with your growing arousal.

"Please, try" I reply with and "I want to see your face as I play with you."

Very nervously, and with your arms wide out for steadying you start to move. The actions are very tricky and you consider the consequences making you excited anxiety high. I continue to hold your dress but my hands follow your rotating form, offering little support. But the areas I am touching please us both. Your butt cheek gives way to your pelvic wing and then....

My hand feels the territory change. My palm loses touch with the point of your pelvis and my fingers, instinctively (I'm sure of it) angle inward and down.... The magnetic pull of your sexual allure draws my fingers toward your center. Ever so lightly and as your eyes turn and lock with mine..... my longest finger meets and brushes your lips.

Your intake of breathe and slight wobble make your feelings at the contact, fairly obvious. The corners of my mouth turn up at this and you meet my smile with your own. You complete your turn and we are square – facing each other.

I know you want to part your legs for access and improving the sensations down below but the sheer exercise of staying on the log prevents much other movement. From my more stable position I begin to run my thumb and forefinger along the length of your peach crease. You moan a little, the tips of my fingers feel fiction less against your wet arousal, there already. Only slight variations in the terrain of your puss let me know I am in contact with you at all. Up and down slowly, my fingers pinch and slide along your lips. Frustrated at the lack of movement you have, you bring your hands to my shoulders and neck for balance and ease your thighs slightly apart. The movement is subtle and slight but almost immediately my fingers slide to a new and pleasing depth for us both. "Hmmmm, that's a bit better" I comment quietly. You just smile and rock in the tiniest motion, in rhythm with my fingers.

I lean in and kiss you but I can tell we only have moments before we/ or one of us loses our balance through a lack of concentration or distraction. I let both hands stray from the present tasks and your dress tumbles down your legs as my wet fingers ease away from your puss, my other hand releases its grip on the revealing state of your dress. Your disappointment is quickly eased as I pull your body against mine and kiss you with a combination of gratitude, for being with me and in my secret spot and the intensity of feelings. I am passing on my horniness through my lips and my bulging denim crotch.

Feeling more comfortable in balance and despite losing the sensations of having, knowing fingers against your slit and lips, you close your eyes drink in the kiss. I feel your contentment but also know this is the moment to seize.

While your guard is at its most trusting, I recognize the moment to move things along in the manner I hoped to use in my initial plan. I delicately hold your two hands in my right and stare at your tranquil and happy face as we part from our kiss.

Before I convince myself that this is a bad idea I act upon my plan. You feel my left hand on your hip. The slight pressure is fine initially but the weight against you gains as I initiate a push. As I gaze at you your eyes open in alarm. I know I have done enough though and you bend at the waist, trying to regain the neutral standing position. In a split second, you know that there will be no recovery and you will be toppling off the log into the water.

The look of horror as, thoughts whirl into your head contemplating the impending cold winter shot is not very nice. For me losing your trust and our bond is a not a nice risk and the feelings portrayed in your look are worrying . I know things will be ok (am very confident anyway) but having betrayed your trust and our very comfortable situation only moments ago doesn't content me.

Though the whole fall takes less than two seconds, the whirling of your arms and the look of "why" and "what the fuck are you doing?" in your eyes makes the scenario seem to last a day. For a moment I feel sick.....

Then you hit the water, clothed. In a smooth graceful, straight entrance – your stunned eyes locked on mine. The water, I know from experience, is about two meters deep and swallows you whole. Your dress balloons instantly out, like a huge iris shown the light and I immediately think of your smooth legs, torso and puss surging downward. (I am a male after all and your parts often distract me from situations we are in... no matter how extreme)

You stay under and I know the rest of the afternoon depends on your expression when your face emerges from the water.... What seems like an age passes before the crown of your head emerges so slowly. My thoughts change from your glorious body under the water privileging any trout or eels etc with glimpses of it's appeal to thoughts, strangely of "The lady of the lake" in King Arthur and that famous story. Your face tilts toward me and you open your eyes.

If I thought you were amazed when you laid eyes upon the 'secret spot' then your expression reaches whole knew levels of incredulation and delight. You are glowing.

The most amazing thing about this place is the temperature of the water. Only a matter of meters around the corner, just above the water fall and hidden behind the thick band of trees is a geothermal outlet. The water is extremely hot and steam and mud are at temperatures just too hot to bare for anyone.... As the water travels into the pool over the rocks, the air and ground contact cool it to what I consider a perfect soaking temp..... not quite as hot as a new bath but very, very nice none the less. What I think is best about the place is that only 150 meters down stream the water disappears underground and becomes a spring somewhere along way away. All this takes place under the cover of the bush so unless you are aware of the pool itself, there are no other places to enjoy the delights.

I was surprised that you didn't notice the warmth rising from the water as we hovered above it, but in fairness...you were distracted. I stare at you and take in the intriguing impression of your attractive face frame by the circling and billowing, drenched dress.

"You bastard!" is your first utterance through a clenched smile which soon becomes a fully blown grin and laugh......

"You...this is incredible!"

"I'm glad you like it" I comment downward.

The Great Flood

I drove into town to be met by a wall of hostility, not the usual hostility associated with a stranger taking up residence in a smallish country town, which I was, but the hostility towards a man taking the place of a beloved citizen, which I also was. I was because I was guilty of buying up the beloved citizen's property in a mortgagee sale.

What the hostile residents of Woods Ford didn't realise was that I had lived here before, albeit briefly, and that there was a certain amount of revenge involved in my return. I was born here but left when I was a few months old, because my mother, Barbara Lloyd, was hounded out of this righteous community because she had the temerity to fall pregnant while she was a single girl, girl being the operative word. She was just eighteen at the time. She refused to identify the father of her child and, although she had been going with Edward Woods at the time, he denied the possibility that he could be the father and, because of this denial she was branded a 'fallen woman' even before she became a woman.

Her father, Herbert Lloyd, who was the local parson, turned his back on her, so she packed up her meagre belongings and headed into the city to try to make a new life for herself and her newborn son, James Parsons, me. I was christened James after her father and she chose to change her name to Parsons by deed poll, in an ironic reference to the man who turned his back on her, and on his chance to fully and openly display his Christian love to her.

She went to live with her mother's sister who had agreed to help her in any way that she could, looking after me when she found work in an office as a typist, taking me to and from school until I went to high school when it was decided that I could get myself to and from school. The whole time my mother and I had been accepted into the family and both of us received an abundance of love and affection from Aunt Cecily and Uncle Ben and Cousins Pete and Rhonda. My Grand-mother visited from time to time to bring us all up to date about Woods Ford and its inhabitants. My mother cried herself to sleep on the night that she heard that Edward Woods had married Jane Thomas, and she smiled to herself when she heard that Jane was divorcing Edward because of his affair with Nancy Brewster.

I graduated high school with good grades, enough to get into Engineering, and I later graduated with an honours degree. This I followed with a post graduate doctorate in Civil Engineering with a focus on dam construction. In this country there is a demand for a regular and consistent water supply for both rural and city use, so my qualifications were very much in demand and I worked on several large catchment dams as well as smaller flood mitigation dams. It was a flood mitigation project that first got me interested in Woods Ford.

The town was situated just downstream from the confluence of two streams, that every ten years or so, flooded, causing significant damage to Woods Ford. Most of the townspeople saw the need for this mitigation project but, first Henry Woods and then his son Edward when he took control of the family hardware and building supply store, resisted the move. Henry Woods was a long time Shire President and was able to convince enough council members to support him in his efforts to defer construction approval.

Those residents that were in favour of the proposal were hopeful when Henry retired that Edward would see the merits of the project and support it. They were to be disappointed when he decided that the financial benefits to the family business from the regular flood repairs far outweighed that of stopping the flooding.

It was when I mentioned to my mother that I was being sent by the State Water Authority to Woods Ford to research the feasibility of the project that she told me of my connection to the place. This got me interested in the history and politics of Woods Ford, in particular the Woods family.

Josiah Woods was the first to settle this district and because of this he chose the best land, it was highly productive alluvial soil, full of nutrients deposited on the flood plain during the occasional floods. As more settlers moved in a small village was built up around the river crossing. This was a ford because at most times there was very little water running over the road. At first the road was consolidated with gravel from a local quarry that Josiah Woods had established further up the side of the valley, but it was later decided to build a more permanent and flood-proof crossing. A substantial stone arch bridge was built using stone from the quarry and cement supplied by Josiah from his newly established store.

The store and the Woods family flourished on a base of being the sole supplier of building materials and hardware within a fifty mile radius and, in the days of horse and cart transport, this was a major undertaking. The Woods Ford population just accepted the fact that they had to pay a premium on supplies from Woods Hardware and Building Supplies.

The Woods family ruled the district with a form of benevolent despotism. As long as you didn't buck the status quo life was easy for you, but any opposition was met with force. Josiah Woods established a Methodist chapel so that the spiritual needs of the inhabitants could be met. While attendance at this church was not mandatory, those who missed the occasional Sunday service had to show cause and pay their usual financial contribution to the church, while those who chose not to attend found themselves 'sent to Coventry', that is shunned by Josiah, and ultimately the rest of the population. If they chose to return to the fold they were accepted, but only after serving a probationary period. Attendance at the church was always strong.

The men of the district were dour hard working folk, used to putting in a ten hour day tilling the soil or felling and milling timber. A co-operative abattoir and dairy was set up to process meat and dairy for those who didn't have the facility to process their own, so apart from those products such a plates and pots and pans that could not be made locally, the district was largely self-sufficient.

The Woods men had the pick of the crop when it came to women to marry, usually the daughter of a family in favour with the patriarch. The chosen one had to have certain qualities, good looks and poise, a compliant manner and a genetically superior bloodline. This is where my mother failed the test. She was certainly pretty enough having been taught grace and deportment from an early age, her bloodline was considered by the Woods to be, while not considered 'superior', good enough. Where she failed to pass muster was that she was less than compliant, there was a rebellious streak in her make-up that just wasn't acceptable. She suffered fools lightly and considered most of the Woods Ford boys to fit into that category. Except for Edward that is, it was he of all the local boys who she found to be of a similar disposition to herself. Henry Woods forbade Edward from seeing young Barbara because of her rebellious streak that saw her spending more time with boys than she did with the girls of the town. While people didn't actually come out and accuse her of having loose morals, it was rumoured that she was free and easy with her affections. These rumours were only partly true for, while she was no longer a virgin before the end of her eighteenth year, she had made love to only one boy. Edward considered himself to be privileged that she had allowed him to move beyond first base and had visions of an interesting life with the tempestuous young Parson's daughter, but that was until the night that she told him the she had fallen pregnant and that he was the father.

Edward was at first devastated with this news, he was not prepared for the change in his circumstances that parenthood would bring. He decided that denial was the best course of action and circulated a rumour that, while she was pregnant, he was not the child's father. He even went as far as coercing some of his friends into accusing Barbara of having sex with them. From being a well thought of young lady to slut was a short ride, she was shunned by the other girls who would look and talk openly behind their hands about which boy she had been seen having sex with. That none of these rumours were true mattered little to the gossip-mongers. Barbara added fuel to the rumours by openly displaying her pregnancy for all to see. Her father tried to get her to display some remorse in her condition but she refused. "It takes two people to make a baby, I am proud of this achievement, and if the father does not share that pride then he is not the man I thought him to be."

In the month that followed my birth my mother would openly walk down Main Street with me in a pram. No-one stopped to coo over the cute little baby, choosing instead to ignore 'the hussy and her bastard' as they passed, nose held high. My Grand-mother, Rebecca, spoke to her sister Cecily, and it was decided that Barbara and I should go and live with her and her family. The childhood I had was by far better than I would have had in Wood Ford, even if my mother and Edward Woods had married. The marriage would not have survived Edward's philandering ways, loyalty was one of her strongest character traits and one of his weakest.

The house that I had bought had belonged to Robert Burroughs whose Grand-father had settled not long after Josiah Woods and while Woods branched out into business, Burroughs remained firmly entrenched in farming the rich alluvial soils. Each year crops were planted and harvested and sold within the district. As the years went by the Burroughs expanded their operations and introduced new and improved crops and methods until they were shipping produce to markets far afield. The Burroughs family were philanthropic, giving produce to the needy and following the floods would open their storerooms and provide for those who had lost all.

Unfortunately times change, crops that fetched good prices in years past no longer showed a profit as the supermarket chains screwed the producers. This combined with cheaper imports from other districts where economies of scale and mechanical harvesting technology resulted in much lower production costs, led to the downfall of the Burroughs dynasty. Those people who had been helped in years gone by did not find it in their hearts to help support the Burroughs in their time of need. The current Robert Burroughs had borrowed heavily from the banks who considered their loyalty to their shareholders to be far greater than their loyalty to their customer. They foreclosed on the mortgage and placed the property on the market. It was sold it to me at a fraction of its worth, because the banks were interested only in recouping their loss, not in selling at a market price that would have resulted in a return to the Burroughs.

This contributed to the feeling of hatred that confronted my arrival to Woods Ford. I had expected some animosity, but was un-prepared for the level that was directed at me. I soon found myself labelled a 'trouble-maker' because I had approached the Shire Council about my plans to survey the valley above Woods Ford with the view to the construction of a flood mitigation dam. Because there had not been a flood for some years the Council stated that one was not needed. Of course Edward Woods being the current Shire President had nothing to do with that decision!

I was still able to carry out survey work on a proposed site for a dam because I now owned the land, something that hadn't escaped the notice of Edward Woods, a fact that he pointed out to me when he threatened me. I spent much of my time at the local library going over old newspaper records of previous floods. These records brought to light some interesting facts, like Burroughs donated food to families affected by the floods and extended interest free loans to those who needed a financial leg up to get back on their feet. The beneficiaries of this generosity showed their thanks by actually voluntarily paying standard bank interest on the loans. Meanwhile Woods Hardware and Building Supplies not only did not give essential materials to effect temporary repairs to make homes liveable, but charged higher than normal interest on loans that people had to take out to buy these materials. Woods Hardware and Building Supplies did very nicely out of the floods.

I also took core samples from either side of the valley at its narrowest point and these showed me that this was the optimal site for a dam.

Another point that came of my research was the fact that the insurance companies did not do the right thing by these families that were hit by the floods. For years they hid behind what was known as the 'Act of God Clause'. This allowed them to refuse payment on claims as the floods were deemed to be an Act of God, not that the good folk of Woods Ford did anything that bad it could bring down the wrath of the Almighty. Then, following a landmark court decision that effectively wiped out this clause, the insurance companies responded by hiking up the flood cover premiums to the point that most of the affected residents could not afford such cover.

I had gathered a pile of clippings that I needed copied so I took them over to the information desk. "Excuse me, do you have a photocopier?" I asked the young lady who was sorting through file records on her computer.

"Yes we do."

"May I use it to copy these clippings?"

"Sure, I'll just fire it up for you, it'll take a little while to warm up, we don't use it often enough to keep it running all the time. You're the man that bought the Burroughs place aren't you?"

"Yes, I hope that you're not going to heap a load of abuse onto me for doing that, are you?"

"No, in fact I want to say thank you for buying it."

"Why would you want to do that? Everyone else hates me for it."

"They don't know the full story."

"Which is?" I was curious, here was someone who didn't hate me on sight.

"Woods wanted that land, but had offered the banks a price lower than what the banks needed to cover the mortgages and then you came along and offered a higher price. You still managed to get it at a price considerably lower than what it was worth. I can't blame you for doing that, I blame the banks, they could have placed a more realistic valuation on it."

"That would be the case if I intended to farm all of the property, but I'm not, so I won't be able to get the full value from the land that I would if I farmed it."

"If you're not going to farm it, what will you do?"

"I intend to have a flood mitigation dam built on my land. I will provide the site and the Government has indicated that it will cover the construction costs. I will find myself with a lake that I can stock with fish and people will be able to fish there."

"And I suppose that you will charge them for the privilege?"

"No, there will be no charge, access will be free, and the initial stocking of the dam will be at my expense. I would hope that subsequent fish stocks will be financed by the users."

"That seems fair enough. Woods won't like that one little bit, he bought Burroughs store and has already started to raise his prices, you providing free fish will cut into that part of his market. You really do know how to make enemies, don't you?"

"I haven't even tried yet, wait until I do."

"Do you want an ally, someone to lend a hand from time to time?"

"Are you volunteering?"

"Yes. I'm Tanya Burroughs."

"I'm pleased to meet you Tanya Burroughs. I'm James Parsons and I'm new in town."

"You don't say, I'd never have guessed it seeing as how I know just about everyone in this place. Okay, let's get these copies for you." She picked them clippings and carried them to the copier. "Why are you interested in the insurance companies and the floods?"

"It's part of an argument that I will put forward to the State Water Authority when I apply to them to over-rule the Council's refusal to grant me permission to build, which I know they will, this dam on my own property."

"Edward Woods will be out rallying support as soon as he hears about this."

"That's why I'm gathering all the ammunition I can find."

"I'm going to offer my support as a Research Assistant if you need me."

"I need you, this will cut my preparation time down quite significantly, thank you."

"I think that I'm going to enjoy this, the current young Edward Woods has been a pain in the arse these past couple of years because I won't go out with him. This will help me because he won't dare ask me now because Daddy will tell him no to, and he always does what Daddy tells him to."

"The acorn doesn't fall far from the tree then."

"Why would you say that?"

"I understand that Edward Senior is now enjoying his third wife, a newer model than the older discarded model. I understand that there was a bit of a scandal involved in that divorce."

"You could say that, he was having it off with the new and improved model and the old model threatened to divorce him, so he spread rumours around that she had been free and easy with her affections and he launched a pre-emptive strike and with his legal team going at it full on, simply blew her out of the water. Poor woman never stood a chance."

"Not a lot has changed then."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'll tell you some time, but not just yet, I want it to be a surprise when I drop it on him from a great height. I've just had a thought, have you had your lunch yet?"

"No, but I've brought a sandwich with me."

"I can do better than a sandwich, join me, please?" I put on my very best pleading look.

"Very well, but not at any of the eateries around town, the people aren't ready to see the two of us together just yet. Having discounted local hotels and snack bars, do you have any bright ideas?"

I took a pen and piece of paper from her desk and wrote my address on it. "Be there in half an hour, and that will give me time to fix something special and to think of a justification for you to call in to my place."

She screwed up the paper and threw it into the bin. "I don't need your address, don't forget I used to live there."

"Sorry about that, my bad, I sort of forgot about that."

"That's okay, I'll see you."

I left to prepare a feast for us. Not really, I just threw together a platter with sliced meats and salad type things to stuff into a half battard (a cross between a small baguette and a Vienna loaf) along with a range of dressings.

"This is nice." Tanya said as she wiped the blob of honey mustard dressing from the corners of her mouth. "It sure as hell beats my humble egg and lettuce sandwich."

"Thank you. Now what would you like, tea, coffee or something else?" I said as I gathered up the plates and headed for the kitchen.

"Coffee sounds good," she said as she followed me into the kitchen, "I'll give you a hand." She looked around the room. "I notice that you've hung onto the slow combustion stove."

The Babaysitter

Alissa has been babysitting for the Ross family for about a year. She is a senior in college, and babysits to earn extra money for books and other things she needed.

She is a very attractive 23 year old, with sexy blue eyes and short blonde hair. Mrs. Ross, and her husband Tom had called Alissa to babysit for them Saturday night.

She told Alissa she could use the guest bedroom, because they probably wouldn't be home until the wee hours of the morning. Alissa told her,

"No problem...have fun."

At around eleven Alissa grew tired of studying and watching TV. Rather than sit up and do nothing Alissa decided it was time to go up to bed. Unfortunately her mind was still active from studying, and she couldn't get to sleep no matter how hard she tried.

After tossing and turning for almost an hour, Alissa decided that maybe a little self pleasure would help her relax. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath as she started caressing her breasts concentrating on how good it felt.

Good-bye

Nothing feels as bad as not really knowing that something is coming and then finally getting the answer that you didn't want to hear but that you knew you would. I had that happen, and reading the words "I want to be friends, nothing more, nothing less" hit me like a ton of bricks. In his defense, I'm sure I deserved to hear them more than I thought I did... I did take things more seriously than I should have. So, in an attempt to finalize things and maybe get them back to the way they were I asked for one more meeting to get a few things back that I had given to him when all this started a couple years ago. Things didn't go exactly how I planned it but in my life, nothing has ever gone the way I planned!!

Rob showed up at the hotel, he didn't seem to be as happy to see me as I would have wanted but he was bringing me what I had asked him for and that supposed to be the only reason he came. I asked him to come in and he slowly walked through the door. The lights in the room weren't on and the curtain in the window was only pulled half way open. He turned and handed me all of what I had asked for without saying a word. I took it, said thank you and put it down not taking my eyes off him. I had so many things I wanted to say but I knew I didn't want to fight with him and I didn't want him to walk away right then so I just asked how he was doing.

He smiled... it was that smile, the one that said everything should be ok and told me he was fine. The silence seemed to drag on and Rob was looking a bit uncomfortable as we stood there. There was a part of me that wanted to yell, scream and cry and ask why things turned out the way they did but I knew I shouldn't say anything.

I broke the silence,

"I guess this is it then?", "Yes" he said as he started heading toward the door.

I reached out and grabbed his arm and he turned and looked at me "Jennifer, I don't want to do this, let me go." "No!" The anger in my voice was startling to even me. I decided I wasn't going to let him leave without some answers, I felt I deserved them. I knew this wasn't going to go well but I had to know.

"What the hell happened to us?" I asked, tears beginning to fill my eyes.

"Jenn I told you, you took things too far, I wanted it but you were too much too quick. You caused me more problems and even when I asked you to back off, you didn't."

The room was spinning and I wasn't sure if I even wanted to continue with the conversation but I knew I needed to say some things.

"I loved you, I still love you and I think you need to know just how serious I was and still am about us." Putting his hand up he tried to cut me off. "Rob please, just let me say this and then you are free to go and if it's what you want, I won't bother you again. I know I was pushy and overbearing and I know that I caused you a lot of unnecessary drama and I am sorry for that but in my defense, I never lied to you, I told you how I was feeling from the beginning and you didn't. You said that you loved me, we sexted, met up and had some fun but the one thing you never did was actually let me know how you really felt about me."

The tears were now streaming down my face and I could see the anger and frustration in his eyes. I knew I was pushing him and I knew he was getting ready to leave. I couldn't think fast enough, Rob was going to leave and there was nothing I could do to stop him. He stared at me, his eyes burning with anger and hurt and I could see that he was over this conversation. Looking down he took a step forward and I stepped in front of him so he couldn't get to the door. "Move please" he asked.

"Why, why can't you just talk to me?"

"Get out of the way I told you I am not and I will NOT do this!"

I watched as Rob placed his head in his hand, took and deep breathe and looked at me again. He was angry, I knew he would be and right then I didn't care as long as I could keep him with me.

"Jenn listen to me, I thought we could be together, I was wrong. Now, let me go before this gets worse!"

I put my hands on his chest and started to yell at him, my anger just overflowed and he was going to hear what I had to say.

"Dammit Rob, just tell me how you feel about me, don't lie and don't be nice just to spare my feelings! I want to know what's really going on in your mind!"

He grabbed my wrists, stepped toward me and said "you really want to know, you think you can handle really knowing?"

"Yes!" I said and he shoved me back into the door. I could feel his breath on my face and before I knew it he was kissing me. His lips pressing into mine as his hands pulled mine behind my back. Our bodies were pressed together against the door with nowhere to go. He grabbed both of my hands in one of his and his other hand slid up my body and grabbed me around the neck as he continued to kiss me. I felt his tongue press into my lips and they parted to let him in. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to pull in him, to taste him and desire filled me. Finally he backed away just a little and asked me if I finally understood.

"No" I said breathlessly "You still didn't tell me anything, but I don't mind when you show me". He began running his thumb up and down my cheek, brushing away the tears that had been falling. "Rob, I don't know how much more of this I can take. I want you, I want to be with you and this isn't helping how I am feeling right now."

"Jenn, just shut up! I can't explain but I want to show you."

"Ok."

He let go of my hands, placed his hands on the side of my face and pulled me into him. I could feel his breath, his cheek brushing against mine and across the end of my nose. I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy being with him and then I had a startling revelation, this wasn't going to last and I began to push him away. Trying to move he kept pulling me closer and I finally pushed hard enough to look at him.

"Rob why are you doing this me, don't you understand what this is doing to me?"

Once again the tears began to fall and I couldn't stop them, as much as tried to keep them from falling there was nothing I could do about it. I could see the frustration in his eyes as he looked down and then looked back at me.

"I'm tired of talking about this! Just stop talking or I'm leaving... and right now Jenn, I don't want too!"

He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into the room backing me into the bed and shoving me down. I wasn't sure what he was planning but I wasn't about to say anything. Taking his shirt off he lay down on the bed next to me and pulled me over to him. As I opened my mouth to say something Rob leaned into me and kissed me hard, shoving his tongue in my mouth and sucking on my bottom lip. It was like nothing I had felt from him in a long time and I leaned into it giving him as much of me as he wanted. I could feel him pulling on my shirt until he had pulled it out of my pants and then his hands were touching my stomach. He was hot and his hands were scratchy, the way they are when you work a tough manual job. I pulled away from him so that he had access to get into my shirt with ease but he grabbed me again and pulled me close so that he could continue to kiss me. I felt his fingers brush against my nipple and I jumped from the static I could feel. I was getting a tingling sensation in my breasts and I wanted him to touch me, skin to skin. He must have understood the feelings I was having as he pulled on the top of my bra, yanking it down under my breast so that he could rub it and pinch and pull on my nipple. Our breathing became labored as the sexual tension was growing between us.

I pulled away from him and pushed him onto his back and sat on him, sliding my shirt slowly up my body and over my head. Taking his hands in mine I ran them up my body to my breasts now partially covered. Rob rubbed them one in and one out of the bra and moved them around and then moved his hands toward my back and unhooked my bra, slowly letting it slide off my shoulders and down my arms. He grabbed it and threw it onto the floor and leaned up into me, his face pressing into my chest. I could feel his breath as his hands pulled my breast up into mouth, his tongue flicking the nipple while his other hand rubbed and pulled on the other breast.

"Jesus Christ, I love your breasts! I have always loved them and always wanted them." Rob said as he literally made love to my breasts. He was pinching, pulling, sucking and loving each breast equally as if he would never get a chance to do this again.

I slide my hands down his shoulders and across his chest. My fingers gently rubbing over his nipples and I moved down his body. Reaching down between my legs I found his cock through his pants and I could feel that he was beginning to get hard. I rubbed him through his pants, he closed his eyes and leaned back to give me better access as I rubbed up and down his ever hardening cock. He too began to run his hand down my body until he found my pussy through my pants that were now damp from the excitement I had already been experiencing. He pulled me off to the side of him and we lay on the bed facing each other, our hands exploring each other through our pants and we began to kiss and play. I felt his hand begin to pull at the button on my pants and then my zipper was being pulled down as well and I felt his hand slide into my pants. His fingers began to explore and move inside of my panties and I could feel him touching the skin above my pussy. I thrust my pelvis into his hand and felt his fingers begin to slide down through my soaking wet slit, willing his finger to touch me. Slowly he slid over my clit causing me to moan and pull on the button and zipper of his pants until they were open enough I could slide my hand inside and touch his cock. I wrapped my hand around him and began to rub up and down his cock, squeezing and pulling as he was beginning to rub my clit. We were moaning together, enjoying the sensation of feeling each other.

Desire was building strong and intense between us and we both knew that we wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. I pulled my hand from his pants and lay on my back pushing my pants down my legs and kicking them off onto the floor. Rob, seeing what I was doing did the same and then rolled over onto me and pinned my arms to bed. He leaned down and began to kiss my body, not allowing me to touch him. His leg draped across mine and I moved my leg to rub his cock as he kissed and sucked on my breasts slowly moving down my body, licking and biting as he traveled down my stomach toward my pussy, now aching for his touch.

"Rob, please touch me, I need to feel you on my pussy and deep inside me"

"Patience Jennifer, all in good time"

It was all I could do to hold on as he reached my pussy and his tongue slid out of mouth and began to move around my clit. I could feel his hand sliding off my arm and down my body to my pussy. I was shaved and I could feel everything with a heightened sensation as he licked my wet slit and with pressure slide his tongue up to my clit. My body jerked with pleasure and all I wanted was to feel him inside me. His finger began working its way into my pussy as he sucked and licked my clit. His tongue was being replaced with his thumb that was now dancing around on top my clit as he slid his finger deeper inside me. I wanted more of him as once again it was like he was reading my mind. He slid another and another finger inside me until he was feeling me from deep inside and my body began to tingle and I could feel myself getting ready to cum. My pussy was squeezing his fingers and I began to cum hard and fast. The flood of juices began to run out of me as his fingers kept moving deep inside me.

"Let it go Jennifer, this is what you want and I will give you more, just let it all go"

My cries were met with a release that I had not felt in a very long time. As I caught my breath as he pulled his fingers out of me and sat up and pushed him onto his back, looked into his eyes I said...

"Now it's my turn"

Rob's eyes sparkled with excitement from not knowing what was about to happen but I knew what I wanted and it was more than I was able to do any other time we had been together. It was painfully obvious that this would be the last time we would be together and I wasn't going to miss an opportunity to show him just what he would be missing. I began to run my hands over his body, gently brushing his skin with my fingertips letting them slide over his stomach and chest up and down his body. I began to kiss and lick his chest, his nipples, down his stomach until I reached his ever growing cock. Wrapping my hand around him I pulled him into my mouth and began to suck his hardening cock. Rob leaned his head back and moaned as I sucked him, rolling my tongue across the slit and tasting the small amount of cum that had begun to seep from the head. He reached up and ran his hands up my arms, across my shoulders and then reached behind my head to pull me into him. This was not what I expected. Quickly I pulled off, grabbed his hands and held them down on the bed over his head.

"No touching! This is what I want, not what you want! IF you are going to say goodbye and leave me again with a broken heart, I get to say goodbye my way."



Shock crossed his face but he allowed me to continue without touching me. I climbed on top on him slowly letting my body caress his and I slid up and down his body letting my breasts touch him every so lightly. This was my opportunity to do what I had been fantasizing about for years and I wasn't letting it go. Feeling the warmth coming off his body helped to make what I was doing more exciting. His cock was hard and I could feel it as I slowly let my pussy, now wet and dripping, slide over him, not allowing him to enter me. Rob held his breath as I ran my hands over his body and my pussy over his cock. Pressing upward he tried to enter me but I moved so that he would only be able to feel as the head of his cock entered me. He moaned as the wetness and warmth began to wrap itself around him. Stopping him before he could get further into me I looked into his eyes...

"Rob, tell me what you want... tell me everything you want, how you feel, what you like, what you want to feel"

A smile crossed his lips

"You, right now I just want you! I want to feel you touching me, kissing me, licking me. I want to be inside you, deep inside you. I want you to make love to me, show me what you have always wanted to do to me and do with me."

With that being said I slowly lowered myself onto his cock taking him into me little by little until I was full and feeling him deep within me. His cock slid into me easily from the juices that had been flowing from me. I began to move on top of him, letting his cock move around inside me as I squeezed him with my pussy that was already beginning to tingle and I knew it would not be long before I had another orgasm. For the first time in a long time I felt that I was connecting with the person that I had known and loved for years and the feeling was overwhelming and I began to move faster and faster sliding up and down his cock, taking as much of him as I could with each movement. I knew that I was close and I could see it in his face that he was just as close as I was and I let myself go as the orgasm swept over me and I exploded all over him, juices flowed freely from inside me and with a sharp intake of breath Rob let go and I could feel him exploding inside me.

"Yesssss!" I cried out

"Fuck!" Was all I heard from Rob

Quickly I climbed off him and slid between his legs sucking him into my mouth, tasting him and myself and sucked hard. Pulling him into my mouth and working his cock until I could feel it getting harder again. Rob reached out for me again and I quickly slapped his hands back. Once he was ready I slipped off him.

"Get up, I want you to make love to me, make me believe that you actually loved me once and then fuck me hard like we will never see each other again!"

Happily Rob complied with my wishes. He laid me down and climbed on top of me, rubbing down my body, kissing and licking me, tasting the sweat that was forming on my breasts and nipples. His cock slowly sliding in and out of my pussy and then he grabbed my hips and pulled me hard into him while he began to pound his cock in and out of my pussy, bring us both to orgasm together. Rob collapsed on top of me, both of us catching our breath.

The Damp Spot, Again

Rachel stood in the middle of her living room, large eyes surveyed the furniture in a sweeping arc, taking in the expensive carpet, the beige leather sofa, coffee table with its customary one or two magazines carelessly strewn on the polished ash effect top.

Jim's television sat brooding and silent in the far corner, silently observing her return to her home after so long. Her reflection dimly mirrored her image in the black glass. A still, thin figure, dressed in jeans and a shirt as it surveyed the room. The television was Jim's, he bought it on a whim, not discussing it with her, just rubbing his hands together like Uriah Heap in anticipation of the delivery truck. Rachel hated it. For one thing, it was way too big for the room and dominated more than the corner it had been banished to. The remote was also on the coffee table, partially hidden by one of her magazines.

She continued her sweeping survey. Seeing the familiar, but feeling like an intruder on a past life.

And then, her hand flew to her mouth in an effort to stifle it before it escaped from her mouth, between her teeth to rattle around the room and bounce of the walls. Either her hand wasn't quick enough or the gaps between her fingers allowed the sob to pass. It was only the one, heaving sob, short, but full of sorrow and a lonely anguish. It came from the heart, a place she had hoped her extended stay away had capped off, but returning home had reopened the wound.

The memories of Jim, lying on the sofa, watching the figures on his prized possession, yelling at the team or the referee or contestants in a game show, were so stark. The time since his death had not diminished the expectancy of him. Painfully close was his voice, his space, even the smell of him.

Rachel stood; eyes closed and relived snippets of conversation, demands for food, tea, to get out of the way. The cadences of his voice so familiar, the way he growled as he snoozed in his favourite place. And then there was his smell, ingrained in the cushions on the settee, absorbed in the leather and permeated into every surface. The polish that had been used by the cleaners did not have a strong enough scent to mask Jim's musk. A smell that she missed now and in a heart aching moment of remembrance, craved in the basest sense.

It was more than she could take in. Rachel almost bolted. She even felt her feet shuffle in readiness to fly from the house, slam the front door and just keep on running until she fell off the edge of the world.

Her six months away had not been enough. The wound was still too raw for her to return to London and try to pick up her life, sans Jim.

She didn't bolt from the house though. Instead, she stood in the middle of the front room, her face in her hands as she soaked up the misery until it spilled over and she sobbed in wracking heaves.

Jim being taken from her so violently was not how it was supposed to be. Being a victim in a road traffic accident was not part of the plan. He was standing in a queue for a bus when the drunk driver mowed him and two others down. It was not fair and was cut short, all too soon, their plans for the future. Marriage, kids and a long happy life had all been extinguished in a fraction of a second. Being told he would not have known much about it didn't help. She knew he would have looked to see what it was hurtling towards him, bouncing off of a brick wall. She knew he would have seen it coming and that was the real horror Rachel could not cope with.

For six months, spent at her parent's home in Surrey, she had sobbed, had grieved and tried to overcome the heart break. Dad had been especially supportive, silently grasping her and holding her head against his chest while she cried her anguish out. He rarely said anything as she broke down. He was just there. He had been her rock and steadying post. Then, when he judged the time to be right they talked and talked, far into the night and early morning. It was the point in which Rachel decided to take control of her life again; return to the house and become Rachel; on her own two feet, ready to face the world again.

Her resolve had been solid and even she had begun to believe in it, but then, here she was, in pieces and totally undone.

Her grief exhausted her. Rachel was bone weary again, a condition she thought was better, until her return to the house. Perhaps it was too soon. Perhaps it might never be right. She was too tired to think about the immediate future. She went to bed, not even taking her clothes off and slept a fitful night, full of dreams and memories that hurt.

The sound of cheering woke her the next morning. At first, she could not work out where it was coming from, but then, as her sense came back to her, she realised the sounds were coming from downstairs. The television was on with the sound far too high. A football match was playing, a re-run from the weekend she guessed. Rachel hit the remote and turned the sound down and spun on her heel to admonish Jim.

He wasn't there. How could he be? Jim was dead. In that brief moment, she had fully expected to see him slouched across the settee in his boxers. It was a shock that he wasn't and then a deeper shock when she remembered why he couldn't be.

She picked up the remote and pressed the power switch and wondered how the set had come on without her pressing buttons. Perhaps it had a timer or switched on when certain programs were scheduled. The screen went black and reflected her dim outline. Suddenly, the silence of the room was oppressive, enough to drive her out and into the shower.

Rachel dressed and realised she was hungry.

A little while later, after a bacon sandwich and a large mug of tea in the local cafe, she felt much better and began to think about the practicalities of her immediate future.

One; she would need to go shopping. There was little food in the house, so that was a priority.

Two; she would need to speak to her boss. The company had given her compassionate leave, but that had expired two months ago. She had maintained contact with the HR department. Chances were that she could get her job back. There are not that many experienced legal secretaries.

Three; She would need to re-acquaint herself with her circle of friends. Rachel thought that it would be difficult at first, where sympathy would adjust their interactions. But, she hoped, in time, things would settle down as they became used to the fact that she was alone now.

Four; she would need to sort her finances out. The pay out from the insurance company, although substantial, would not last forever. It would be a good idea to invest what was left and keep it as a stand by.

Armed with her new resolutions, Rachel toured the local supermarket and realised, suddenly, that they are geared up for families and definitely not for single people, unless they could happily survive on ready-made meals. Everything came in packs of two or more. It would mean separating and re-bagging for the freezer.

The television was on again with a game of rugby blaring out from the sound system as she struggled into the living room, laden with her shopping.

"This is weirding me out." Rachel said aloud to herself. She dropped the bags and hit the remote power switch and then, unplugged the set from the wall.

All hell broke loose. The moment she pulled the plug, the sidelights flicked on, as did the radio and the small fan heater. She jumped at the sudden cacophony of sound and light then realised that, judging by the noises coming from the kitchen, all the appliances had come on.

One by one, she turned things off. The lights and radio and then in the kitchen, the mixer, cooker alarm, kettle and so on until all were either switched off or unplugged. In her haste to regain control of her home, she didn't have time to feel frightened or wonder what was going on other than to assume it had been a power surge caused by her unplugging the television.

But, then, as she returned to the living room, she could hear something rattling upstairs. All of the lights were on, stairs, landing and her bedroom. The noise was coming from the other side of the bedroom door. Now she was getting worried and gingerly pushed the door with her foot, leaning backwards, ready for flight.

Her bedside alarm clock had fallen off the dressing table, the rattling was the vibration of the clock bouncing on the laminate flooring where alarm and vibrate were both working. She picked it up and flicked the switch across to silence the clock with its red led lights showing the time in numerals.

She could hear her rabbit vibrator buzzing in the drawer and as she turned that off too, realised that it was not plugged into the mains. How had a surge in the electrics started that off?

Rachel, not usually given over to panic, suddenly felt fearful, bordering on panic. This was too weird. She felt quite vulnerable and terribly alone. It felt like the walls were crowding in on her and the house had become sullen, malevolent, even.

It took her quite some time to settle down during which she plugged the kettle back in and made herself a cup of tea. Irrationally, she checked the fuse cupboard to make sure all was as it should be. Her knowledge of electrics was sufficiently poor that she would not have recognised a problem if there were one, unless there were scorch marks.

She stored the groceries in the fridge and kitchen cabinets. The mundane action helped to soothe her.

At last, exhausted, she reconnected the television and settled into the cushions to watch the giant screen and anything to take her mind off of recent events. She reaffirmed that the screen was too big for the room as contestants in a banal game show seemed to be almost life size. It boggled her eyes a bit and the resolution of the screen allowed for every facial blemish to be shown in perfect clarity. The television would have to go, she decided.

Wishing to avoid a headache, she hit the power button of the remote and saw the screen go black. Her reflection shone back at her, mirror imaging the room and her slouched position on the settee. And then, she saw a movement in the reflection. Some dark shadow appeared to have passed behind her, near the door to the kitchen.

She spun around, but saw nothing. The fright she had felt came back as sharp and consuming as it had been earlier. She shivered and wanted to run from the room, from the house that suddenly, did not feel to be the safe haven it used to be.

"Jim, if you're fucking about. Stop it!" Rachel did not believe in an afterlife and did not expect that she would get an answer, but it felt good to stamp her authority, even if it was on someone departed. She had to be in control of her environment and was not going to be frightened out of the house. It was hers, her property. Nothing happened except that she felt better in having said it and perhaps, stamped her authority.

She dreamed that night, reliving some of the best times with Jim. Remembering sunny days in the country, walking for miles and miles, aimlessly and then finding a secluded place. Their love making, slow and sensuous, always culminated in a climactic finish with both of them breathing hard and quivering from the joy of each other's bodies and the harmony of their respective orgasms. Jim had really been the perfect lover. He had his faults, but when it came to sex, his consideration and natural athleticism provided her with a partner second to none.

She woke in the morning to sunlight streaming into the room from between the curtains that had a small gap where they were not quite pulled together. The alarm clock was blank. She hadn't put the plug in. Rachel stretched and threw back the covers. The bed was soaked with a circular stain that was familiar. Always I get the damp spot she thought to herself and then giggled. She felt the way she normally did after a good session; Invigorated, alive and happy and very much in need of a shower.

She was sore she discovered. Her sex was tender to the touch of her bath sponge as if she had been on the nest all night. It brought back happy memories.

"I must have frigged myself stupid last night." She said out loud and then told herself off for talking to herself.

She was famished; another of those, morning after rituals when the local café did a brisk business in feeding the two of them following a night of passion. Usually, they were red-eyed and almost incoherent with exhaustion, but managed to convey the need for food and steaming mugs of tea.

Rachel dressed and entered the café, feeling much happier than she had in too long a time.

She called her previous employers who said they would be happy to have her back. A meeting was set up for the following Monday to discuss terms and her role. Even the law does not stand still, there were new elements of the job that she would need to be trained in. It was a positive call and fed into her feeling of wellbeing. Even the sun shone on this crisp early spring day.

The shopping centre was as busy as ever. Rachel didn't like crowds, but would put up with the discomfort when searching for clothes.

A few hours later, she stepped out of the mini-cab and unlocked the front door. The television was again, paying to itself with the sound turned up to a pitch far too high. For a moment, she didn't know quite what to do. But, then decided to leave it on, not wanting to cause the pandemonium of yesterday. It still weirded her out, but she felt some acceptance.

She placed her carrier bags in the bedroom with the contents to be sorted and hung later. Then made a cup of tea, which she took into the living room.

Rachel sat on the settee at the opposite end the where Jim would have been while watching sports. She sipped her tea and stared warily at the space he used to occupy. She could see nothing nor sense anything, just the vacancy of the three-seater sofa.

It was cricket. The game on the television showed the bowler running up to the crease to deliver a fastball at the batter. Hang on, she thought to herself, Jim doesn't like cricket. Correction, didn't like cricket. The screen went blank suddenly and she couldn't help but to smile. A small victory, she thought. If the television is going to turn it's self on, then it should be for something worth watching.

Much later, she zapped a ready-meal in the microwave and opened a bottle of wine. She found a detective program, set in wartime and settled to eat her meal. The food was less than inspiring, looking like a conglomeration of component parts, all mashed together and then far too much salt added. The wine helped to wash it down and fill the space her stomach craved.

The second glass of wine relaxed her even more. Rachel lay back and watched the conclusion of Foyle's war. As usual, he figured out who did it and solved the case. It was as the credits were beginning to role and the announcer was advising of future programs that she noticed two of the buttons of her blouse had inexplicably become undone, showing her cleavage to full effect. She had no recollection of undoing them. Then a third button parted as she watched. Then a fourth button became detached from the buttonhole, further parting the garment. Transfixed, Rachel watched as the two parts of her blouse were gradually parted to expose her bra-covered breasts.

Somewhere between fascination and fear had her spell bound, unable to move, completely devoid of volition, her blouse was slowly pulled out from under the waistband of her jeans.

Unseen, but distinctly felt hands were moulding her breasts. She could she the indentation of her bra as fingers manipulated, squeezed and fondled her. She didn't know how to respond. The ministrations were mildly erotic, but it was way too weird. At last, she regained some control and tried to get up. It was as if she had collided with invisible marshmallow. A gentle force across her chest, pushed her back down to a prone position.

The cups of her bra were yanked down and she could feel two sets of fingers easing out her tits from the confines of the lacy material. Suddenly, her nipples were pulled insistently, reshaping her breast into conical mounds with an acute point where her nipples had been puled upwards. In normal circumstances, Rachel would be writhing in pleasure about now. She actually liked her breast to be treated quite roughly. It was a sure fire trigger to get her aroused.

"Okay buster, that's far enough." She said, using as stern a voice as possible. She tried to rise up again, but was pushed back by the invisible force.

The button of her jeans flew open and her blouse was pulled down, trapping her arms. She felt a hand reach behind her neck to pull her up. The collar of the blouse was yanked down to below her elbows, which were now quite effectively tied behind her back. The front clasp of her bra sprung apart and the garment added to the restriction, further trapping her.

Rachel had enjoyed the mild S&M she had shared with Jim. Nothing too elaborate, just the occasional tying up and blind folding. She got off on that a few times, but this was far too weird for her neural receptors to react in a pleasurable way.

A sudden yank on her jeans waistband hand them halfway down her legs. The force of the sudden pull had shifted her down the settee. She scooted back up so that the cushions supported her. A second pull had her jeans around her ankles. The forces being used to disrobe her were irresistible, she couldn't fight against something she couldn't see and besides, her blouse was far too efficient as a tie.

Then, softly, she felt a delicate touch to the skin of her leg, just above her knee. It lingered for a minute or so before beginning in an upward sensation towards her mons, still covered by her panties. It was the merest of touches, light almost butterfly like, but insistently travelling up from her knee. The unseen finger touched her sex through the fabric of her panties. It was as if an electrical current had been passed through her body. Rachel gasped at the contact and the gentle pressure, pushing the gusset into the crack of her labia. Suddenly, her body became switched on. Her legs began to part to allow for access. The pressure left her and she felt two hands push her legs together. An involuntary Oh escaped from between her lips at the loss of the touch.

If this is imagination, she thought, then bring it on. Who needs a rabbit if this is what her mind can conjure up.

Nothing happened for a few seconds. The time seemed to have stood still. It felt like long minutes passed until the band of her pants lifted as if a finger had been hooked under the band where it touched her hip. Another hooked under the band on the other hip and between the unseen fingers began to work her pants down her thighs. Rachel lifted her arse to make it an easier transition. Her panties soon joined her jeans, wrapped around her ankles.