© Copyright 2000 by artie@netgate.net

This work may not be reposted or redistributed without the prior express written permission of the author.

A work of fiction, meant for adults. Read something else if you are not an adult, or are offended by stories with sexual content. Then again, if all you’re looking for is in-out, in-out, in-out, you should probably read something else. I welcome constructive comments. Enjoy.

        I was half awake and half asleep, reclined in the first-class seat, blanket over me and eye shades still in place. I thought about looking at my watch to see how long it would be until we landed in San Francisco, but why bother. I listened to the hollow hissing of the air conditioning, and the dull thrum of the engines. First class was nice, but it wasn’t our bed.

        I felt a smile forming on my face as I recalled the wonderful time we’d had. I thought I heard Angelique’s voice from the other side of the cabin. What an incredible woman she was! Beauty, talent, grace -- I was glad that both she and Tom had befriended us. I felt they’d be good friends for some time to come. We definitely wanted them at the wedding.

        What now, though? What had happened to me, these last few months? I’m getting married again. Was it time? Why was I doing it? The accident which killed John and Janet, terrible as it was, left me single and financially secure -- free for the first time in my life, and for the rest of my life. I could go anywhere, do any damn thing I wanted. So what the hell did I do, but fall in love with the first person I met!

        I could still say no. We’re too different; we don’t know each other well enough. It’s too early -- let’s reconsider in a year or two. There’s no reason to marry -- certainly not money. We can still live together.

        But I don’t believe that. We are different, and that’s part of the grandness of it all. And we’re both the same -- we both need to be held, and need to hold someone. We both dislike waking up alone. We both love fast food. For all the great meals we’ve had, I think we’re both looking forward to a good grease burger.

        Am I ready to settle down? Again? I thought I’d done that a few years ago. There’s Angelique’s voice again. God, she’s hot. I’d love to get her in bed. We heard them enough on the barge, making love in the cabin next to ours. They heard us as well -- hell, the whole barge heard us, the four of us. I’d love to tie her to our big bed, on top of that sensuous bedspread, and dive down between her legs.

        That’s not fair. That’s not what our commitment is about. Why am I wearing this ring on my finger, even though we’re not married yet? It’s to remind me, remind both of us, of a commitment. Am I willing to make that commitment, with tasty tail like Angelique walking around? Fantasy. I need to take out my fantasies with the warm, considerate, caring, funny, and sometimes confused person next to me.

        But what about the future? What holds us together? What will hold us together? At first it was the trauma -- forcing us together, crying on each other on that ride to Tahoe, John and Janet killed in the car crash. Then it was the puzzles, and then as things seemed to settle down, we got another dose of trauma. Now what? Morris is sitting in a jail somewhere in Canada, fighting extradition last we heard. He’s busy for a while. The trauma hopefully is over. What holds us together? Planning for the wedding? How about the honeymoon?

        No. What held us together the last three weeks? Each other. Being together. Sharing, exploring. If nothing else, I’ll hold us together. I’ll make decisions. I’ve been playing second fiddle too long, catering to someone’s whims, being adaptable. If I’d not done that, months ago, a year ago, would things be different? That’s nuts -- it’s done and over with.

        Face it -- we’re both in love. We love each other. Each of us can choose anything we want. We chose each other.

        But, what next? It will be good to get back to the house. Thinking of the new kitchen, office, and space for books is exciting. But... It’s still John’s house. Even the beach house feels tainted -- first by John, now by Morris. Oh, some times I wish we didn’t have the beach house. We could go someplace and start fresh.

        What kind of hormone-induced nesting fantasy is that? Go build a new nest with my mate? We could do it. What’s stopping us? We could sell both houses. The beach house would sell in a snap. The big house? What does it matter? We could sell it for $5. Wouldn’t that be fun -- piss off a lot of real estate folks. Jill would probably object though -- some tax wrinkle.

        I felt a hand moving under my blanket, feeling gently. I turned and sat up, pulling off my eyeshades.

        Bill was smiling at me, a smile that told me he had something in mind.

        "I love you," I whispered, moving my hand to his and interlacing fingers. We kissed briefly.

        "We’ve got enough time before we land," he said suggestively, moving a hand to my waist. I laughed. He was jealous of Tom and Angelique -- they’d joined the Mile High Club on the flight to Paris -- causing a minor incident in the process.

        I could tell by the grin on his face that logic wasn’t going to work. I gave him a frown and he grinned all the more.

        "I’ll be right back," I told him, giving him a kiss on the nose.

        Tom and Angelique were sitting across the cabin from us. I leaned over to them and asked, "Arrange a diversion for us?"

        Angelique nodded. Tom said, "Or we’ll bail you out."

        I laughed a little as I stood, turning and giving Bill a raised eyebrow as I walked to the first class lavatories.

        Actually, now that I was up, I needed to go. I checked the pocket of my sweats to be sure I had what I needed. Bill followed me into the lavatory, and as he locked the door, I pulled down my sweats and underwear and sat on the toilet. I closed my eyes for a moment in blessed relief.

        When I opened them I was looking at my future husband’s very erect cock, his sweats and underwear down around his ankles. I smiled and reached out -- solve two problems at once here.

        He is so strong, or likes to think he is, and yet all it takes is a my finger tips in the right place to have him do what I want. And I wanted him in my mouth.

        I closed my eyes as I took him in, enjoying the sensations. He was warm, a little sweaty, a little sticky. The scent coming off his public hair and balls was so ... him. I moved him with the fingertips of one hand, caressing the base of his shaft with the other as I devoured him.

        I could tell by the way he was moving, and the way he was tensing up that he wasn’t going to last long -- I’d taken him by surprise. Good. That increased my abandon as I sucked, tasted, and devoured as much of him as I could, breathing in his scent as I did. His body was mine once more as he moved to my touch.

        Over the hissing and dull roar of the plane, I thought I heard him moan. Then I felt that tensing in him, and that opening of his hips -- almost there. I slid him almost out and concentrated on his head, and the delicate spot on his underside, then took him in to me as I felt him and caressed between his legs behind his balls.

        And I got my reward. Oh, I love how he tastes. That first contraction, especially if I’ve surprised him, has a bit of a tang to it. The rest is pure, warm love. I used both hands, cradling his balls and caressing him now, milking him for all I could get, hungry for every last drop. I love the way he tastes.

        I’d gotten as much as I was going to get, for now at least. I felt him shrinking again. That’s what happens when I surprise him. I swallowed the last bit and swirled my tongue around his tip again, feeling him writhe in my hands. I love to do that to him, make his body respond to me. And he’s gotten so good at letting go and enjoying it, letting himself respond.

        I sat back a bit and he leaned back against the door. His eyes were glassy. I laughed and smiled at him, licking my lips. He shook his head, dazed.

        "Wow," was all he could say.

        I reached in my sweat pants pocket and pulled out a fresh tampon. He gave me a look of concern.

        I smiled and ran fingertips over his inner thigh, making his eyes close momentarily.

        "Remember that mad dash to the bathroom when we got to the airport?" I asked him.

        He nodded, smiling.

        "That was my period starting."

        He nodded again, and leaned forward to kiss the top of my head. "I love you," he said.

        I switched tampons, flushed, and stood up to hold him. We kissed, and I put my tongue into his mouth. He accepted it eagerly, sharing the taste. I love kissing him after he’s eaten me, and am glad he doesn’t mind reciprocating.

        I tidied myself up a bit as he used the toilet. He still looked dazed. I laughed and mussed up his hair. We kissed and held each other some more when he stood up.

        There was a gentle knocking on the door, and a voice in French offered us our clothes. I accepted graciously, and moved Bill out of the way a little to open the door and accept them.

        Even though that lavatory is the larger one, with the changing table, it’s still damn small, and it took me a while to get back into my skirt, blouse, and hose -- especially with his help. Some times I think he has more than two hands. Of course I do love it when he sucks on my nipples, even though they’re more sensitive during my period. And if he gets too eager, all I have to do is put a hand behind his head and hold him to me, cradling him and squeezing the back of his head, and he relaxes so well, melting in my arms.

        We finally got dressed, and with our sweats folded up, we exited the lavatory. Coming back into the forward cabin, we were greeted by Tom and Angelique, our steward, and a stewardess, who handed us two glasses of champagne. Tom and Angelique already had theirs. We laughed a bit and had a toast. The older man in the seat next to us looked up over his reading glasses and frowned. I laughed and leaned over to Angelique, whispering, "I bet I could put a smile on his face." She laughed, then looked down, giving him a look of lust. He shook his head and returned to his book with a frown. I shook my head, as did Angelique. We finished our bubbly and sat down again.

        We had a light meal before landing.

        We got off the plane and headed down to Customs, waiting for our bags to arrive. We won at luggage roulette once more -- everything arrived. We made it through the Customs line right behind Tom and Angelique.

        I was surprised when Jill, our attorney, met us; I’d been expecting her private investigator, Karen. We hugged, and introduced Tom and Angelique. They had a limo already arranged to take them to their place in San Francisco. We’d see them again on Saturday at our place. We separated with more hugs. We were close friends already.

        "You look like you had a great time," Jill said as we walked to the parking structure.

        Bill laughed a little. "It was quite a trip, in every sense of the word."

        "What’s new with you? What’s been happening?" I asked her.

        Jill smiled, but I thought I saw an edge. "We can talk about that tomorrow morning at my office. Call before you head over. All those things can wait."

        We got to Bill’s Jeep and loaded things in. Jill drove. Both of us were spaced out from the flight.

        We did learn that the construction had gone smoothly, and Jill had made appointments for Friday with two wedding planners -- one would be at the house at ten, the other at one. The third gal I’d been interested in was already booked for our date.

        The house didn’t look any different as we drove up. Outside lights came on as we pulled into the driveway -- that was new. Jill told us the new alarm code, and gave us our keys with the new house keys on them. Detailed write-ups on what had changed were in the house for us.

        We pulled into the garage. I expected her to offer to help with the bags, but Bill said, "I’ll get the bags in a few minutes. I want to look around first. Thanks again, Jill."

        We hugged again. Jill waved, said, "See you in the morning," got in her car, and drove off.

        I could tell by the look on Bill’s face that something was up as he led me to the door. He unlocked the deadbolt, then the door, and stepped inside to clear the alarm. He picked me up in his arms and carried me into the house.

        The lights were on dim, and before we got through the short passageway of the laundry room and into the house proper, I could smell them.

        "I love you," I whispered. My arms were around his neck and I held him as he carried me. Being in his arms, smelling those roses, sent such a tingle through me.

        He put me down as we stepped into the main part of the house. Roses were everywhere. The drapes were back. The cabinets looked beautiful, and empty.

        He started walking to the kitchen, but I held him back, put my arms around him, and kissed him. As I let him hold me, resting my head on his shoulder, he whispered, "Welcome home, darling."

        I laughed and took his hand, going to the kitchen. It looked beautiful. The glass doors on the upper cabinets reflected a lavender hue from the roses. Things had been unpacked! I opened a couple lower cabinets, and saw that our things had been unpacked and moved in. I was giddy and laughing.

        I pulled him to the family room. The cabinet work there was gorgeous, and there were roses everywhere. Downstairs was next. The office was very impressive. The computers, or confusers as Bill likes to call them, were set up on the desk, with more roses.

        In the massage room, most of the boxes were gone. The massage table was still folded up, and there were only about half a dozen roses in the room.

        I ran upstairs. We had new doors to the master suite. They were heavy, but moved easily. The view inside was just as breathtaking as it had been that afternoon I’d come home to find the house filled with flowers. The scent was so thick and dreamy. We had new cabinets. The drapes were hung and looked new. Our closet was full again. The bed and the spread looked delicious. We hugged and kissed again. He started backing me to the bed.

        "Wait -- let’s go get the bags, or they’ll be there until the morning," I told him.

        "So?" he said, kissing my neck and running his hands over me.

        So indeed -- what did we need from our bags? I was just about to give in, as he squeezed my waist and nibbled my neck when he pulled back.

        "Okay, I’ll go bring them up," he said.

        I laughed, and walked down with him. It took us two trips, but we had the bags upstairs and the downstairs secured once again. We left the suitcase with all the dirty clothes downstairs.

        I went to the bathroom -- I needed to go. The bathroom door was now a very heavy, solid feeling door. Other than that’ the bathroom looked the same. As Bill joined me, he swung the door back and forth a little. He closed the door. There was extra hardware on the back of the door. He hit a button or something with his hand, and there was a loud "thunk!" that startled me.

        Bill nodded and smiled. "Extra bolts to secure the door." He reached up and pulled a couple knobs, sliding them in to the middle of the door. "Nice -- spring loaded. Whack this," he hit a knob or button a few inches above the doorknob, giving us that thunk again, "and this door isn’t going to open easily." He tapped the wall with the side of his hand. It sounded solid.

        I wiped, flushed, and stood up, sweeping him into my arms, kissing him again.

        We stripped and got into the shower. It felt so good to be in our shower again, with plenty of hot water and room for both of us. The bathroom on the barge had been so comically small -- I could sit on the toilet and put my feet in the shower pan.

        We washed our hair, then soaped each other down, getting rid of the last of the Parisian tobacco smoke. As we rinsed, Bill went down and took a nipple in his mouth, and moved a hand to my clit. Oh, he is getting so good at that! I helped him find the rhythm as I held him to me, feeling the warm water cascading down us. Even though we’d made love last night in Paris -- whenever that was -- I needed it, and soon came, my knees starting to buckle as I held on to him and leaned against the shower wall.

        We kissed again, enjoying the water. We turned it off, dried off, and got out. He dried quickly, and started to "help."

        "Brush your teeth and go get in bed!" I told him.

        He gave me his mock pout, then that mischievous little boy grin. As I was taking care of my hair, he brushed his teeth, and ran his electric shaver over his face, smiling at me. As I was brushing out my hair, he leaned over and kissed a nipple, then scooted out of the bathroom.

        I finished up shortly, and put on fresh perfume, turned off the light, and went into our bedroom.

        Oh, our bed is so heavenly! Especially with him in it. He’s so warm, radiating heat. I snuggled up to him and pulled him to me. That sensation when our bodies touch is so fulfilling. I’ll never get used to it. I guided his mouth to a breast, and held him to me, rocking him gently, and went to sleep holding him.

        I awoke some time while it was still dark -- wide awake. I went to the bathroom, and back in the bedroom, went over to the drapes and sliding glass doors. I held the drapes open a bit and looked out at the valley. I watched the twinkle of the lights, listening to his soft breathing. What should we do? What should I do first? There was still so much to do for the wedding -- I’d barely started. I looked at the clock -- a little after three. I walked to the nearest vase of roses, and buried my head in the soft scented blooms. They are so delicious -- and he got them for me. I crawled back into bed, and curled up next to him, putting my head on his shoulder. Without waking, he put an arm around me. I could feel and hear his breathing and his heartbeat. That was all I needed to do for now -- the rest could wait.

        I felt the bed move some time later, and reached for him. He kissed me on the forehead and whispered, "I love you." I rolled over.

        I blinked and was wide awake. I was hungry. I also needed to go to the bathroom again. It was still dark out. Bill wasn’t in bed. As I went to the bathroom, I saw it was about five thirty. What was that Paris time? Didn’t matter, I was awake now. I took care of m business, then brushed my teeth and washed up a bit. I gathered our dirty clothes from last night. Phew -- some of them still smelled of tobacco smoke. I wrapped them in a towel. I put on my soft robe and headed downstairs, closing the bedroom doors behind us.

        Standing at the top of the stairs, the view was so pretty. The lights were on dim, and the roses gave everything a soft lavender look, and a wonderful scent. The drapes were open, and I could see out into the valley, lights still twinkling in the darkness.

        I carried the clothes down to the laundry area; I’d sort things for wash and dry cleaning later. I smiled as I stepped into the garage -- we’d both kept Jill busy with secret errands. The shelves and work bench were quite nice. I opened the refrigerator, and got the bacon, eggs, and bread Jill had obtained for me. I’d be able to give Bill his second favorite breakfast.

        I carried things into the kitchen and looked around. It was very nice. I liked the cabinets and layout much better. The smaller dishwasher was just the right size for us. Some things were loaded into the new refrigerator. I got out the coffee and started a pot brewing for me.

        Walking to the office downstairs, I paused at each vase to smell the roses. As I started down the first of the steps, I rearranged my robe a bit, showing my breasts a little more. Then I smiled and turned, heading upstairs to my bedroom. We’d had duplicate bottles of a number of perfumes, between this house and the passion pit. I got the bottle of Shalimar from the drawer, put some on the tops of my breasts, and then headed back downstairs. I put the extra bottle of perfume in the downstairs bath.

        He was sitting in the chair at the desk, naked as the day he was born, smiling and looking at the computer screen. From the sounds the speakers were making, I guessed he was looking at videos of our balloon ride. That had been a lot of fun -- Tom, Angelique, Bill, the pilot and I.

        I walked up behind him and put my hands on his shoulders.

        "Good morning," I said, "ready for some breakfast?"

        He turned in the chair and smiled, and reached for my robe. He pulled it open a little more, and I stepped forward. He seems to like my left breast better. I wonder why?

        Oh, that electric feeling as his lips touch my nipple -- I held his head to me gently as his arms went around my waist. I held him and rocked him, letting my eyes close. Some times he surprises me, but other times he’s so predictable.

        I led him gently to the futon; I’m glad we kept it in the room. I put him on his back and partially covered him. I put a hand behind his head, and as I lowered myself to him, I saw that look on his face. He looked so peaceful and relaxed -- all the tension was gone from his face. Yet as my nipple approached, I could see the hunger fill him. I settled on him, pulling him back to my nipple as his arms went around my waist once more.

        Oh! He was so hungry! "Gentle, darling," I whispered, as I squeezed the back of his head and neck a little. He moaned some and melted in my arms. I held him to me, feeling him suck gently, filling me with such warmth and satisfaction.

        I can tell how much he loves being held like that. I hope he can tell how much I enjoy it too. But after a few minutes, I felt something else stirring. I almost laughed. If I hold him to me when he’s tired, or almost asleep, he relaxes more and drifts off. But if I start out with him awake, oh he relaxes, but then he gets very aroused, and I could feel him pressing up against me, against the soft fabric of my robe.

        What the hell, I thought. I moved my hips gently as I pulled his head in a little closer. He moaned, and I felt his hips start to move against me. I let him set the rhythm, following it, and slowing it a little to prolong things.

        I held his head, pulling it to me just a little at the right point on the wave our bodies were making. I whispered to him to relax, and told him I loved him. Our bodies were moving in waves, and I could tell by the way his arms held me loosely that he was pretty far gone. I moved a little and got my right hand between my legs. Grabbing folds of my robe, I started pumping his cock, wrapped in the soft fabric.

        He moaned, and I held his head tighter with my left hand. "Relax, relax," I told him softly, as I moved my body on top of his. Soon I felt him stiffen more, then he moaned, and I felt him coming. I pumped him gently until his hips stopped moving. Then I pulled my hand away gently and let my weight down on top of him more, as I moved his head around on my breast. He clutched at me weakly with his arms.

        I rocked him gently and told him to relax repeatedly. His sucking slowed over a couple minutes, then stopped. I held him. I put my head down, resting somewhat on my shoulder, and on the futon. I should keep a couple cushions here -- something washable.

        I zoned out as well for a few minutes, and woke up to strong arms around my waist, and a more insistent mouth at my breast. I laughed a little, and pushed myself up on my elbows.

        "Ready for some breakfast?" I asked him.

        He gave me such a look of wonder. "I love you," he said.

        I squeezed him to me again, holding his head between my breasts. As I let go and pushed up again, he said, "What did you do to me?"

        I pulled up on my knees, and wiped up our fun with my robe.

        "Didn’t you like that?" I asked, looking in his eyes.

        He closed his eyes briefly and sighed. "Nancy... I was so lost again, so lost in you."

        Hearing that gave me a warm feeling. I leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "Good. All you have to do is relax, and let me take you there."

        He sighed again and I stood up. I peeled off the robe and balled it up, putting it under my arm. I held out my other hand and helped him stand. "Let’s go get dressed, then I’ll fix you some breakfast."

        We kissed, then headed back to the bedroom.

        It felt good to get back into West Coast casual clothes. We’d both dressed up a couple notches while in Europe. Of course part of that was Angelique -- but she could make a flour sack look elegant.

        As we walked down the stairs, Bill said, "I don’t know what we’re going to do for breakfast. It’s still early out." It was a little past six.

        I pulled him into the kitchen, pausing to smell the roses along the way. I leaned him against the counter, and opened the door to our new built-in refrigerator. I pulled out the bacon, eggs, and sourdough bread. He gave me a look of surprise.

        "You weren’t the only one having Jill run errands, you know," I told him.

        He laughed and we hugged.

        I poured some coffee; he got his can of 7-Up, and got us vitamins while I was getting out the frying pan.

        He is such a bit help in the kitchen -- especially if my hands are occupied! I was trying to cook the bacon just the way he likes it, but having a hard time the way his hands were going all over me. Finally as one snuck up under my top and started going for the catch on my bra, I put down my utensils, and turned around, grabbing him.

        "Set the table, and then sit down! You’re a big help!"

        He laughed and kissed me on the nose. "It’s my job," he told me.

        I swatted his bottom as he took the silverware over to the kitchen table. He started some music playing. I liked that. I’d like to have music going all the time.

        We had a good breakfast. It was good to be back home again.

        "What would you like to do this morning?" he asked me.

        I held his hand. "We could start unpacking books. We shouldn’t call Jill until 9 or so."

        He nodded, then said, "What else?" He had a look of concern on his face.

        I looked at him for a moment. I wasn’t sure either at first, then I smiled. When he saw me smile, his look of concern changed to a relaxed smile. I patted his hand.

        "I really like music playing. I want to have the house full of music whenever I’m here. I enjoyed those times on the barge, in the lounge area, small as it was, music playing and being in your arms."

        He laughed, with a twinkle in his eyes. He was up to something, and I’d just given him a very big green light. "Your wish is my command," he said, kissing my hand.

        I gave him a low laugh. "I don’t know what I’ve agreed to," I told him.

        He laughed a little. "You’ll love it. I promise. Now let’s clean up and get to work."

        The kitchen was quick work. I liked the new dishwasher -- small and very easy to use. It was supposed to be extremely quiet as well. We still had the other dishwasher, but it was about as quiet as a carwash, and held about as much.

        The first two boxes we grabbed went into the office. I got the lighter one, Bill took the other. I carried it into the office, and almost dropped it on the floor.

        Out of the speakers hooked to the computer came the unmistakable sounds of lovemaking -- Tom and Angelique. Bill put his box down, and hit a button on the camcorder sitting on the desk. He gave me an embarrassed look.

        "What the hell was that?" I asked, incredulously.

        He laughed. "Don’t worry, it’s sound only. I’d forgotten about that. One night when they started in, I turned it on just to get the sound. I’ll erase it."

        I smiled. "Don’t you dare. It might come in useful some day."

        He laughed and hugged me.

        This one is different! If you’re reading it in this form, it’s because you’ve read the whole story. I need your feedback! Were you surprised when you found out that Nancy was narrating this section? Did you figure it out before she looked at Bill? I wanted it to be a surprise. Did you learn more about what makes Nancy tick? Did you pause to think about what you’d read, applying it to Nancy?

        If you could ask Nancy (or Bill) three questions, what would they be?

        This chapter is going to end with Nancy and Bill driving over to Jill’s office. Should I keep Nancy as the narrator for a while, or switch back to Bill? Should I switch back and forth?

        Thanks for your feedback!

Tales of the Golden Mule
by artie@netgate.net
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/artie/www
http://artie.web1000.com/