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Message-ID: <46859asstr$1077621007@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Jeremy Spencer <gotothewebsite@asstr-mirror.orgtosendmemessages>
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Subject: {ASSM} {Mardi Gras} Jesus, Mary and Joseph by Jeremy Spencer (Rom, mf) REVISION
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Date: Tue, 24 Feb 2004 06:10:07 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Hopefully this isn't too late.  Someone graciously offered to take a 
quick look at the story, and found some rather stupid errors I'd 
missed.  I had previously submitted this story, and am hoping (since 
the posting hasn't happened yet, to get the following substituted 
instead.  Thanks, Jeremy..

*****


Jesus, Mary & Joseph
By Jeremy Spencer
Copyright 2004


Author's Note: The following is a fictional story. In it, fictional 
characters have hot, sweaty, unprotected, fictional sex. They live in a 
fictional world without fictional diseases. You do not. Be careful. All 
characters in this story are old enough to know what they're doing. 
Now, on to the show!

*****


When it comes up in conversation, or I'm badgered into telling someone 
who hasn't heard my story, I like to joke that there are three people 
responsible for bringing my wife and I together. Those three people are 
Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

And they inevitably give me the same kind of look you're giving me 
right now. Trust me, I'm used to it, so you can stop it any time.

Seriously. Stop it.

It sounds crazy, I know, of course it does. I say it jokingly, but it's 
one hundred percent true.

I was seven years old when Jesus came into my life. Okay, okay, 
already. His full name was Jesus Alejandro Diaz, but everybody called 
him Jesus. Like I said, I was seven years old and everyone I knew 
thought it was incredibly funny that his name was Jesus.

Everybody knew Jesus was a white guy with a beard. Right?

Anyway, I was spending the weekend at Jason Keller's house. Jason lived 
next door to me, and he was without a doubt my best friend in the whole 
world, and would be until tenth grade when that rat bastard stole my 
girlfriend.

I got over it though, and invited him to my wedding. He was even my 
best man. And his dad gave away the bride.

This night though, we're only seven years old, and we were mad. Tonight 
was supposed to be cool. Our new, all-time favorite television show - 
The Dukes of Hazzard - was on, and after that we were going to stay up 
all night watching monster movies. Or at least we'd try to stay up all 
night, but usually it was around eleven o'clock when we'd get tired and 
fall asleep in front of the television.

So instead of gorging ourselves with candy and soda, there we were, 
sitting in the waiting room of St. Francis Medical Center wearing 
nothing but our flannel pajamas, trying to stay awake.

"When is it going to happen?" Jason asked his aunt. Aunt Celia was 
watching Jason while Jason's mom and dad were with the doctors having a 
new baby, and since I was staying with Jason, Aunt Celia was watching 
me too.

Celia sighed, looking at her watch. She'd been watching Jason for the 
last couple days, trying to help out her sister, and even at my young 
age, I could tell she was getting tired.

"I don't know, Jason. Sometimes it only takes a couple hours, sometimes 
it can take a lot longer than that."

A couple hours. Jason and I thought about that for a long time. A 
couple hours is a lifetime when you're a kid, and she said having a 
baby sometimes took a lot longer than two hours, so we could... we 
could be here forever!

"I have to go to the bathroom," Jason announced. Rather unnecessarily, 
I thought as I looked at him, jumping up and down and holding his hand 
over his crotch. "Celia, where's the bathroom?"

"Eric, do you need to go too?" she asked me. I'm Eric Stanton, by the 
way, and I'm spending the weekend with Jason while my parents are at a 
couples retreat. I found out later that they're having marital 
problems, but I didn't know that yet, and wouldn't have understood 
anyway. I'm only seven. But I knew enough to go to the bathroom before 
we left the house, so I didn't have to pee.

"I'm okay," I tell Celia. Sighing, she stood and took Jason by the hand 
and together they went off to find a bathroom.

So now I'm by myself in the waiting area, and the night just keeps 
getting worse and worse. First we didn't get to finish eating pizza 
because Jason's mom's water broke at the restaurant, and we all rushed 
to the hospital. Since she wasn't the mom or the dad, Celia got stuck 
with the two of us, and the three of us sat in the lounge, waiting 
Jason's new sister to be born. But now they're off looking for the 
bathroom, and I'm all alone.

I was sitting there, stewing in my frustration, when I felt a tap on my 
shoulder. Truth be told, I was starting to get a little worried. Jason 
and Celia had been gone a long time, so everybody I knew at the 
hospital was somewhere else, and I didn't know who could be trying to 
get my attention. I turned and saw Jesus.

"You want to see baby?" he asked.

"What baby?" I asked.

"The Baby. Baby is born! Baby Stephanie." He was waving his arms 
around, and I was glad we were alone, because he was a little 
embarrassing. Jesus was kind of the town janitor. If something needed 
cleaning or fixing, Jesus was there to help. He wasn't the smartest 
fellow you've ever seen, but he was probably the nicest. Everybody 
loved Jesus, and Jesus loved everyone right back.

"Yeah, I guess." I decided I did want to see the new baby. I didn't 
have any brothers or sisters, so this was all really new to me.

We walked together past the reception desk and down a long hallway to a 
big set of double doors labeled "maternity ward." Jesus pushed the door 
open and motioned me to go ahead. There was another hallway, but this 
one had all kinds of big glass windows.

Jesus pointed for me to look through the window. I walked up and peered 
in, pressing my nose against the glass. Inside were six or seven baby 
cribs, each holding a tiny baby.

"What's in that one?" I asked, not understanding what I was seeing. One 
of the cribs was bigger than the others and had a big plastic tent over 
it. Jesus didn't know the right words, but he described that that baby 
inside - Stephanie, as it turns out - had been born early, and was 
sick, as are most preemies.

The tent was there to keep germs away from her, "so she don't get 
sicker," he said.

"Is she going to die?" This was becoming more and more traumatic for my 
seven year old mind. I knew people went to hospitals when they were 
sick, but they were supposed to get better, and now a brand new baby 
was sick, and I was sad.

Jesus shook his, and told me Stephanie would be fine, but Jason's mom 
and dad would need to be very careful with her.

"Will she break?" I had heard someone talk about Jason's mom's water 
breaking at the pizza place, but didn't really understand what it 
meant. I didn't want baby Stephanie to break.. Jesus laughed gently, 
attempting to calm my nervousness.

"She strong," he said. "Women always strong. Stronger than you," he 
teased, seeing I was near tears.

"Is not," I muttered. "She's just a baby. I'm stronger than a baby."

Jesus smiled, patting me on the head.

"Poor boy. You learn soon. Woman always stronger." Jesus nodded sagely 
and walked off down the hall.

*****

"What are you watching?" I called downstairs as I bounced down the 
steps to the basement. Jason's dad was a lawyer, and they lived in this 
real big house on the edge of town now that he'd gotten a promotion at 
his law firm. We didn't hang out as much as we used to when we were 
little kids, cause it was a longer ride on my bike than before he had 
moved, and I wouldn't be able to get my driver's license for another 
half a year. Well, more like six months and eight days. Not that I was 
keeping track.

"Hey Eric. C'mere," Jason waved me over. He had practically the entire 
basement to himself, which was really great when we wanted to look at 
the stash of Playboys he'd stolen from his dad.

I walked over and sat on the floor next to Jason, turning to look at 
the television. It looked like a home video, because the picture was 
all jumpy and out of focus a lot. A few years ago, Jason's dad had been 
one of the first people I knew that bought a video camera. He must have 
spent a fortune on it, at least that's what I figured by the way he 
went on and on about how great it was. But that was a few years ago, 
and he'd since given his old one to Jason as a hand-me-down, but Jason 
just let it sit in the corner of his room.

Jason's dad had also been one of the first people in town to have a 
video cassette player, a big bulky thing with fake wood veneer, and I 
know Jason was still the only kid in our grade to have one in his own 
room.

Like I said, his dad was a big shot lawyer, and Jason had all kinds of 
cool stuff.

So the stuff on television was kind of jerky, as if whoever was 
operating the camera didn't quite know how it worked. I looked at the 
screen, trying to figure out what I was seeing, but all I saw were tons 
of people on a crowded little street. They were all packed together 
really tight, but everybody seemed to really happy about it. There were 
lots of people wearing bright costumes, and it looked like a band 
playing on the balcony of a building.

"Is this a Halloween party?" I asked, thinking it might have been, 
because of all the costumes. Jason shook his head.

"No, it's something down in Louisiana. I think my dad called it 
Mardygra or something. It's kind of a big party where..." I cut him 
off, jumping up from the floor and shouting at the television.

"She just took her shirt off! Did you see that? She just showed her 
boobs!" I sat down in a heap. This was the coolest thing I'd ever seen! 
If Jason kept talking about this Mardygra, I didn't hear him, I was so 
intent on watching for more boobs.

The video went on for another ten minutes or so, but there were only a 
couple more boobs.

"Wow," I said when it was finally over. "Damn. That was cool. Watch it again?"

"Sure," Jason said. "I have to rewind it first." Jason hit the rewind 
and the two of us talked while the tape spun backwards to the beginning.

"Where'd you get that?" I asked. "That was so great!"

"Isn't it awesome? My dad took that."

"I figured he did, but what's the deal with all the ladies pulling 
their shirts up?"

"I don't know. Did you see that most of the time when they showed their 
boobs someone gave them a necklace?"

"You mean the beads?"

"Yeah, whatever. I think they have to pull their shirt up or something, 
if they really want the beads."

"And they don't get arrested?"

"I guess not, but they should have arrested that one."

"The huge one?"

"How big was she? She must have weighed five hundred pounds!"

"Yeah, but she had big ones, didn't she?"

We both nodded, remembering the enormous breasts one of the women had 
displayed. I was startled to hear a voice from behind me.

"Who had big ones? Big what?" I turned and saw Stephanie standing 
there. Stephanie was now a tiny seven year-old sylph of a girl. She was 
pretty, with a round face and a tiny nose, and her hair was the color 
of sunlight. She was holding a cup of juice in one hand and an 
oversized Raggedy Ann doll in the other. "Jason, who had big ones?"

"Nobody. What are you doing here?" Jason answered, upset and afraid his 
little sister might have seen what we were watching. "How long have you 
been down here? I thought I told you to play in your room."

"I'm bored. I wanna play with you guys."

"You can't play with us," Jason smirked. "You're too young."

"Am not."

"Yes you are."

"I'm gonna be eight next month. That's not too young."

"And I'll be fifteen pretty soon," Jason shot back. "See? You're too young."

"Mom says you're supposed to watch me, so I'm playing down here with 
you guys," Stephanie said, and plopped down onto the floor.

I looked at Jason, but he just looked at me in defeat.

"Fine, you little brat. Stay down here. We don't care. We're going to 
watch some videos."

I looked at Jason in surprise, but he just shrugged.

"Are you sure?" I whispered. He nodded.

"It's fine. She's too young to get it. Besides, I caught her one day 
looking through one of dad's dirty magazines and told Mom, but she 
didn't care. She says Stephanie's a girl and if she wants to look at 
other naked women it's okay."

"That's weird. She'd care if she caught you doing it."

"That's what I said, but she said it was different."

"Whatever."

The tape had long finished rewinding, and with a nod from Jason, and 
one last look at Stephanie, who didn't seem to be paying attention, I 
started the tape playing again.

The beginning of the tape, which I hadn't seen, was if anything even 
better than the end. There was a parade at first, and tons of beads and 
coins being thrown from these hugs floats. There were really loud 
marching bands and lots of people and shouting and more costumes.

At the end of the parade was a cut in the footage, and suddenly the 
scene was like before, back on the really crowded street, only now 
there were all kinds of women taking their shirts off. A lot of them 
were really hot, and I was kind of squirming around on the floor, as 
blood rushed into my dick. I was thinking how nice it would to touch 
their boobs and kiss them.

"She's pretty." I froze for a second, my head whipping around. There 
was Stephanie, watching the television. I looked at Jason, but he 
shrugged his shoulders again, as if to say, "what can I do?"

"You think she's pretty?" I asked. Stephanie nodded.

"I think she's pretty too," I told her.

"She's got big ones," Stephanie said, surprising me.

"What?"

"She's like Mommy. I don't have big ones, but Mommy says I'll get them 
sometime."

Hearing this, I'm sure I must have blushed bright crimson. I couldn't 
believe I was having this conversation with my best friend's seven 
year-old sister. Worse, I realized that seeing all the nudity, in 
addition to talking about boobs with Stephanie, had my dick as hard as 
a rock. I dropped my hands in my lap to try to cover up the lump in my 
pants, which only caused Stephanie to look, but I don't think she saw 
anything. Or if she did, didn't realize what it was or why I had it.

"This is boring," she finally said, as I just sat there. Jason ignored 
her, and to my relief, she got up and went upstairs.

*****

During my senior year of high school, my parents finally decided they 
hated each other enough to make life miserable for me, but not enough 
to actually get a divorce from each other. To best show their spite for 
each other, both had begun having affairs with people from work, 
although Dad was gone so often before it didn't feel like much had 
changed.

I had finally forgiven Jason for stealing my girlfriend, and Jodi for 
cheating on me with my best friend, and wished the two of them well in 
their new relationship. I thought it was quite generous of me, 
considering it had only taken me two years to get over it. The fact 
that I was sure their relationship would never last past high school 
helped ease my pain.

I started college with high hopes of finding someone special to call my 
own, but quickly found college to be much like the rest of my life.

"You're too clingy," one girl told me. Kelly and I had been casually 
dating for part of sophomore year when she told me it was over. "I want 
to have a good time when we hang out," she had said, "but it's like 
you've been looking to get married since our second date. I can't 
handle it."

I decided then that from that point on I would be known as Mr. Fun to 
all my friends. Gone were the days of studying in the library until 
midnight on Friday. I was a changed man, ready to close any bar I might 
encounter!

Needless to say, that lifestyle lasted until I received my next set of 
grades. I realized that if I wanted to actually do something more in 
life than work the "Keys While You Wait" booth at the local mall, I'd 
best study a little harder.

The last two years of college were a rush of classes and books and term 
papers. I have no strong memories of those years, but something must 
have gone right, for at last, one windy Saturday morning in June, a 
certain Eric Anthony Stanton walked twenty-three steps across the 
school's stage, received his diploma and shook the provost's hand. 
Waving at the crowd, I took my seat, the school's most recent graduate 
- at least until the next name was announced.

*****

I had lived through four years of college with one motto through it 
all: no classes before nine o'clock. It was practically a religion. 
Each semester I would register for the next with one overriding 
principle in mind: get as much sleep as possible.

To say that "real life" came as a shock to me would be a great 
understatement. Suddenly I was in the real world. If I wanted a job, or 
wanted to keep my job, and the boss said I needed to be there at eight 
o'clock, then I would be there at eight o'clock, come hell or hangover. 
For many months, my body and I were at great odds with each other, to 
say the least.

Still, it came as a much greater shock to my system when I arrived home 
one evening to find my answering machine blinking.

"Hey Buddy," came a voice from my past. Jason and I hadn't spoken in a 
few years. We still chatted via email occasionally, but his were short 
and impersonal, and mine few and far between, and we had mostly lost 
touch.

"Long time no see," he continued, in the cheery, overly-fake voice so 
common to answering machines. "I have big news for you, Eric. I don't 
want to spoil the surprise, but make sure you watch your mailbox. See 
ya!"

I stood there, wondering what possible news he could have, but quickly 
put it out of my mind.

So it was another surprise when I received the wedding invitation in the mail.

"The Parents of Jason Montgomery Mitchell and Jodi Lynn Parker 
cordially invite you to the wedding of their two beloved children," the 
parchment read.

Damn! The two had made it work. I had to admit I was impressed.

I immediately got on the phone and began the process of patching up 
that which needed mending. Old friendships are hard to kill, I found, 
and it wasn't too long before I was boarding the train for the twenty 
hour ride back home.

Home, of course, wasn't the way I had left it. The house I grew up in 
had long since been sold, my father now alone with his beer and 
football games, my mother and her second husband living in a tiny 
two-bedroom apartment. I showed up for the requisite greetings, but 
quickly made my way to the Mitchell residence.

I'm not sure what I was expecting. I was staying at Jason's parents' 
house during the wedding, but it had not occurred to me I would be 
alone in the house with them and his sister Stephanie, a 
recently-licensed terror (at least according to Jason and his parents) 
on the local roads. Jason and Jodi had already set up house together, 
and were of course busy with last minute preparations, and had little 
time for me, other than the wedding rehearsal and dinner.

So it was on a Friday evening two days before the wedding that I found 
myself alone in the cavernous house with no plans, no one to meet and 
nothing to do. Deciding to take the opportunity to do a little 
scavenging, I did what any normal, hot-blooded, horny American male 
would do in my situation. I rifled through Mr. Mitchell's closet, 
looking for porn.

And struck the motherlode. Apparently my parents weren't the only 
couple in town with problems, unless the enormous stack of tapes and 
DVDs I'd found was some sort of marital aid. Titles and kinks I'd never 
really taken time to imagine all laid out before my eyes. Men and 
Woman. Men and Lots of Women. Women with Women. Men with Midget Women. 
Men tying up Women. The variety was endless, and I was at a loss at 
what to watch, having never experienced the entire width and breadth 
the adult entertainment industry had to offer.

Finally deciding to just grab something and get on with it, and more 
than likely get off with it too, I grabbed a black cassette, marked 
only with a piece of masking tape. PRIVATE read the label, which I 
assumed was a good thing.

I made the quick trek to the basement, where I found Jason's old room 
much as it had been when I last visited. Different television and VCR, 
updated with the newest and best gadgets available, but still the same 
bed and underneath, I assumed, the same dirty magazines, were I to look 
for them.

I didn't bother checking, instead slipping the tape inside the player. 
The tape started automatically, and I found myself watching what 
appeared to be some sort of best-of sex compilation. I found myself 
skipping ahead until suddenly I saw a familiar tableau.

New Orleans. Late February. Mardi Gras.

I suddenly flashed back nine years previous, to the day Jason and I had 
watched his father's homemade video. Instantly I was rock hard inside 
my slacks. Almost without thought my hand slipped down and cupped my 
cock, squeezing the hard shaft, and I knew I would have to jack off if 
I hoped to get any rest that evening.

Pausing the tape, I quickly unbuckled my belt and pulled my slacks to 
the floor. My briefs followed and I lay on his bed, clad in only a 
t-shirt, my hand wrapped around my hard shaft, slowly stroking myself 
to the images on the television.

The women were the same as they ever were. Although these were 
different women from the tape I'd watched previously, they were begging 
for the same beads and coins as had been prizes since the early 1900s. 
One guy on the screen was even going on about how great it was, some 
group was even throwing coconuts again.

I lay on the bed, a thin sheen of perspiration forming on my forehead, 
my eyes glued to the bare breasts on the screen in front of me, my hand 
a blur as I pumped my dick. I thought I heard a noise, and whipped my 
head around, but saw nothing, and quickly resumed my stroking.

One woman in particular caught my eye. She was dressed in the style 
made popular years before by Madonna, who had shocked everyone as she 
writhed on the floor of a video awards show, dressed only in a lacy 
wedding gown. I felt a drop of pre cum dripping from the end of my 
cock, and reached out, smearing the fluid over my hard shaft, 
lubricating myself.

I groaned as I watched the woman on the screen. If she was an amateur, 
she was damn good, I thought. She slowly pulled the straps of her bra 
down over her shoulders, pulling and teasing on them as slowly each 
massive cone of her tit was unveiled. Her nipples were huge, bright 
pink and standing straight out from her tits, and I felt myself losing 
control, my hips thrusting up against my hand as I continued pounding 
my cock.

With little warning, my dick erupted, and I felt my cum pulsing hotly 
out the end of my cock. My hand was a slippery mess, and as I turned to 
look for a rag in order to clean myself, I froze.

Stephanie, half hidden in shadows, stared at me in shock, as frozen in 
place as I was. I had not seen her in four years, our last time 
together had been my high school graduation. At the time, I had been an 
18 year-old getting ready to head off to college, she a scrawny 12 
year-old just starting to transform into a woman. We had nothing in 
common and had said little more than congratulations and hello. That 
had changed during the course of my current visit, however.

The Stephanie of today, I knew from having talked with her a little 
since I had been back for the wedding, was quickly becoming a stunning 
young woman. She was vivacious, smart, beautiful, and fun to be around, 
and frequently I had found myself thinking about her at night.

At the moment, however the Stephanie in the basement was a stammering, 
blushing mess. She also had her hand down her shorts and been obviously 
frigging her pussy while watching me jack my meat. Now that I noticed 
she was in the room, I became aware of other things, including the 
nearly overpowering scent of aroused woman.

Before I could say anything, however, she turned with a squeal, and ran 
up the stairs to the safety of her own room.

I lay there on the bed for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts. I 
had no doubt this would be the beginning of very bad things. Images of 
myself standing in front of a judge popped into my head, as the bailiff 
read off the charges against me. "Corrupting a minor" echoed through my 
mind, although I realized that Stephanie had been the one spying on my 
activities, and from the scent of her, had been an eager participant in 
her own.

I jerked back to reality as I felt my cock drip the last cold remains 
of my orgasm onto my leg. I quickly got up, wiping myself off as best I 
could, and walked upstairs. My plan was to get out of the house and 
into my rental car. I would drive for a few hours, and see what 
happened from there. Not much of a plan, and as it turned out a useless 
idea, but at the moment it was all I had.

As I reached the door, I heard a quiet voice whispering to me from the stairs.

"Wait, Eric. Don't go." I turned and saw Stephanie sitting on the 
bottom step. She looked haggard and beaten, her head resting against 
her fists, which were propped up on her legs. She looked tiny and sad, 
and I closed the door, walking back towards her.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice ragged, just as my own mouth was 
opening to apologize. My jaw hung there a moment before my mouth 
snapped shut.

"Don't be," I answered, sitting on the floor next to her. From my 
vantage point I realized I could see directly up the right let of her 
shorts. I could still smell her arousal, although it was now slightly 
masked with the smell of soap, but the crotch of her shorts was still 
damp and pressed tight against her mound and I found her incredibly 
erotic.

"I shouldn't have walked in on you like that," she moaned, shaking her 
head back and forth. "It's all my fault, and you hate me." Stephanie's 
voice broke as she spoke, her shoulders shaking with emotion.

"Hush. I don't hate you. It's my fault. I should have known better than 
to... to do what I was doing." Stephanie looked up at me, her eyes 
streaked with tears, scarcely able to believe me. I nodded. "It's my 
fault," I stated. "Not yours. Okay?"

She nodded shyly, unable for the most part to look me in the eye. We 
sat there together, silently thinking our own thoughts.

"You're big," she finally said, blushing prettily. I arched my eyebrows 
at her, a small smile on my lips.

"Am I?" I asked. "And how would you know?"

"I... I know where you got the tape you were watching," she said, 
admitting she too had searched through her father's stash of videos. 
"She's pretty, isn't she?"

"Who is?" I asked, unsure who we were talking about.

"Mary." I shook my head, lost for the moment.

"Who's Mary?" I asked.

"The girl you were jack... masturbating to, on the video. She's pretty."

She was talking about the girl in the wedding gown, I was sure of it.

"You've watched this one before?" I asked, surprised Stephanie would 
admit such a thing. She nodded slowly, embarrassed all the more. "You 
know her? You know the girl?"

"No."

"Then how do you know her name?" I asked.

"I don't, but I watch that tape all the... I've watched it once or 
twice, and I always think of her as Mary." I nodded in reply, 
understanding a little more.

"Like the Virgin Mary," I said, noting with amusement the surprised 
look on Stephanie's face.

"Yeah," she said, her face a mask of confusion. "How did..."

"Like the Madonna song," I said.

"Yeah!" She blushed again, clearly embarrassed.

"You're right though," I said as I stood. "She is very pretty." 
Stephanie giggled, pointing at me.

"I can tell you like her," she laughed, a new bulge evident in my 
slacks. I attempted to cover myself as I quickly spun and walked out of 
the room, her laughter echoing behind me.

*****

It wasn't all because of the video, I thought to myself as I lay in my 
bed. Ever since our chance encounter, I had been a mess, thoughts of 
Stephanie running through my head.

Stephanie kissing me. Stephanie feeling my cock. Stephanie sucking on 
my cock. Stephanie opening her legs for me. Opening herself up for my 
fingers, my mouth, my cock. Stephanie, beautiful Stephanie riding me to 
orgasm.

I was a mess at the wedding. I had been surprised but honored to be 
asked to serve as a groomsman, but found the job difficult. I was to 
escort Stephanie down the aisle as one of the bridesmaids, and to my 
consternation found I had a hard time looking her in the eye.

After the wedding, I left town as quickly as I could, back to the 
safety of my own home, and returned to the real world.

One day, to my surprise, I received an email from Stephanie.


Dear Eric,

I got your email address from my brother. I hope you don't mind if I 
send you a short message. I promise not to spam you! <grin> I said I 
wanted to thank you for hanging out with me when you were here for the 
wedding. I wanted you to know I had a good time, especially that one 
night <wink wink>, but I won't tell anyone.

You were always nice to me, not treating me like a little kid, and I 
wanted to thank you.

If you wanted to write me at my email address, you can go ahead. I 
promise to write back.

Stephanie


I wasn't quite sure what to make of this, but found myself pleased, 
thinking back to our short encounter. She said you had a big one, I 
reminded myself, a bit smug at the thought. She's so young, a part of 
me answered, chastising the aroused part of my brain. She's only 
sixteen!

But it's only an email, I rationalized. Besides, what would she want to 
hang out with an old guy like me? I'm almost twenty-four years old.

So, I wrote back. Her emails were generally chatty, telling me all 
about her friends and school. She talked about different boys she was 
dating, and when she finally let one of them "go all the way," she told 
me it had hurt, but she was glad she'd done it.

Slowly, as months turned to years, the emails slowed and eventually 
stopped coming. I lost my job at the local school district, and went 
searching far and wide for another position, finally finding one 
teaching English to Spanish-speaking immigrants in eastern Texas.

Stephanie graduated high school, and began attending college somewhere 
in the Midwest, but after a few emails, we lost track of each other.

*****

A couple years later I was still in Texas, sick and tired. Sick of 
teaching, tired of the kids. Bored with life.

Every once in a while I found myself thinking back to my college days 
and remembering how great it had been, although I knew that was mostly 
rose colored glasses.

It was the middle of January, and classes were slow to get rolling 
after Christmas break, and no one, myself included was motivated to 
learn anything. The kids hated my class, wondering why their English 
wasn't good enough, and I was frustrated, knowing most of them refused 
to speak anything but Spanish unless they were in school

It just didn't seem to be worth it, and I knew I needed a break or I 
would snap.

I kept seeing commercials for the Super Bowl coming up. Green Bay was 
back in the big game for the first time in almost thirty years, so the 
buzz for this game was off the charts. They were playing a New England 
Patriots team that no one had expected to be there. They hadn't been to 
the playoffs the year before, but had an 11-5 record this year. Still 
they didn't appear to match up well with the Packers, but I thought it 
would be a good game. New England had a great coach by the name of Bill 
Parcels. I'd hated him for years when he was the coach of the New York 
Giants. Little did I realize that in seven more years he would be 
coaching my team.

My own team, the Dallas Cowboys, had dominated the league during the 
early 1990s. They'd won the Super Bowl in 1992, 1993 and 1995 but the 
were getting older. To me, Dallas looked to be in a bit of a downward 
spiral, although things wouldn't get really bad for a few years.

We'd won the division for the fifth straight year, but lost to a young 
Carolina team at Carolina, where the Panthers didn't lose. I was a 
little frustrated, because Dallas had played and defeated both New 
England and Green Bay that year, not allowing either team a single 
touchdown (although Dallas kicked nothing but field goals in both games 
too), so I knew if we'd only been able to beat Carolina we could have 
won our fourth Super Bowl in six years, but it wasn't to be.

I watched the game anyway, more for something to pass the time than 
from a strong rooting interest, which was good because the game wasn't 
all that exciting. Desmond Howard had a great game returning kicks, but 
otherwise the game was pretty boring. Green Bay won, their third Super 
Bowl championship in three tries, but what caught my attention was all 
the commercials.

In the second half, after all the expensive commercials had been aired, 
the game was nothing but commercials for New Orleans, the city where 
the game was being played. I smiled, remembering all the times Jason 
and I had watched his father's Mardi Gras videos, and right then made 
up my mind to spend my spring break in Louisiana.

The next month was busy for me. School and preparing my students for 
their mid-term exams took up most of my time, but always in the back of 
my mind was my upcoming trip, and the time I spent in teaching hell was 
a bit easier to handle.

On my drive in to the Big Easy, I passed through Eunice, Louisiana, a 
small town roughly half way between New Orleans and Houston. It 
appeared to be a fairly poor town by the look of it, but I stopped at a 
diner and was amazed at everything planned for the celebration. 
Although I had reservations further on down the road, it occurred to me 
that Eunice would have been a nice place to spend my time.

"Y'all here for the party?" a pretty waitress named Betty asked me. 
"Gonna be in the Mardi Gras run?" I explained I was just driving 
through, but was curious.

"What's the run?" I asked.

"Y'all don't know 'bout the run?" Betty appeared horrified, and quickly 
sat at my booth. "Can't believe you never heard of the run," she shook 
her head in disbelief. "Every Mardi Gras we get up, and run through the 
countryside, beggin' for gumbo fixins."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, and it's a popular thing too. Last year I think we had near 
five hundred people runnin' out in the country."

"And people do this every year?"

"Yes sir, indeed they do, and this year's bound to be bigger. We're 
having us the biggest King Cake in the world this year." I must have 
again appeared puzzled, and Betty laughed, explaining things to me. 
"King Cake is... I don't know. Kinda like a coffee cake, but decked out 
all nice and pretty with sugar sprinkles on top."

"You have any?"

"Course we do! What kinda place would this be if we didn't have any 
King Cakes? Lords sakes, where you think you at?" Betty shook her head 
as she walked to the counter. "Joseph! Give me a piece of cake for our 
young traveller. He never had him no piece before." Suddenly a large 
black man came out from behind the counter.

"Who never had a piece of the King Cake?" he bellowed into the diner, 
and I could feel the accusing eyes of every patron staring into me. I 
raised my hand sheepishly. Suddenly his face brightened and Joseph 
bellowed in laughter. "Then this one's on the house!" he proclaimed, 
quickly ducking back into the kitchen.

In short order I found myself presented with a cake unlike any I'd ever 
seen. It was indeed very much like coffee cake, heavy and dense, but 
the sprinkles were more like fine sugar, in bright purples and greens 
and golds. It was very pretty, and I was almost - but not quite - sad 
to take my first bite.

"It's delicious," I said, and received knowing nods of approval. I took 
another bite, a little self-conscious, feeling myself the center of the 
diner's attention. Suddenly I bit into something hard.

"Ow! Damn," I cursed, spitting out... whatever it was... into my hand. 
"What the hell?" I spoke, looking at what appeared to be a tiny plastic 
baby. I held it up, looking for an answer.

"Oh! Joseph! He got the baby!" Betty seemed happy to see the plastic 
object, and I wondered if I'd won something, as the rest of the diner 
patrons applauded.

"Won something?" Joseph chuckled from the counter. "You just won 
yourself the right to buy a whole cake from me. Congratulations!" He 
explained that it was a custom to put a plastic baby inside each cake. 
Whoever found it was declared "King" of the festival, and he and his 
consort were paraded around. Of course, the King is expected to pay for 
the party, but that was a custom I was glad to hear was only rarely 
enforced.

"Oh well, sorry. I don't have a date," I joked.

"That don't matter hon," Betty told me. "You find yourself a nice girl, 
and you bring her back here. You King of our festival now." I laughed 
along with her, and quickly finished my meal. On the way out, I did 
pick up an entire cake from Joseph, and promised him I would return on 
my way back through town.

When I finally fought my way through the heavy New Orleans traffic, I 
felt as if I'd driven through a war zone and riot and parade all at the 
same time, as the traffic and revelers making travel on all but the 
largest roads difficult.

I finally arrived in the Big Easy early Saturday afternoon. I had been 
able to get a tiny room at the Lafayette Hotel, right on most of the 
parade routes, so thankfully wouldn't have to drive in the city during 
the celebrations.

I knew I wouldn't be able to get into any of the fancy society balls, 
but I found it a pleasant enough diversion to walk along the water, 
finding it a bit more peaceful than fighting my way through the hoards 
of drunken party-goers who congregated every night on Bourbon Street.

My room was nice, although small and expensive, but I considered myself 
fortunate to have it.

Sunday night I decided I may as well head down to join in the fun, and 
quickly found myself in the midst of what had to be the largest outdoor 
party in the world. Try as I might, I was unable to resist gawking at 
the hundreds of women flashing their tits for beads and coins.

It was very much the same as I remembered from the videos, only now I 
found it a little sad. I was thinking about how so many of these women 
would find themselves on hundreds of web pages without knowing it, when 
someone crashed into me from behind, spilling a drink all over me.

"Damn!" I exclaimed as the icy cold liquid ran down my back. "Why don't 
you watch where you're..." I cut off, unable to speak, as I looked dead 
in the eye of Stephanie Keller. She looked plastered beyond belief, and 
I wasn't sure if she recognized me in her inebriated state.

"Hey, guy!" she slurred, looking at her now empty cup sadly. She threw 
it away, staggering as she tripped on the street curb. She was just as 
beautiful as I remembered. Her long hair pulled back in a ponytail, I 
was able to get a close look at her delicate features, and I realized 
how much I missed many of the people from my past.

Stephanie watched me looking at her for a moment. Around her neck were 
dozens of strings of beads. Seeing me notice her gaudy prizes, 
Stephanie laughed at me.

"You got some beads for me, mister?" As she asked, she reached down and 
pulled on the bottom of her shirt, exposing her breasts to me. A group 
of college kids behind me whistled and cheered. One of them threw a 
string of beads at her, which Stephanie caught and awkwardly threw over 
her neck, trying to keep her shirt up with one hand.

Saddened by her display, I reached out and pushed her hand down, 
covering her from view.

"Let's get out of here," I shouted over the noise of the crowd. I 
grabbed Stephanie by the arm and led her toward the edge of the street, 
where the mass of humanity quickly thinned.

Not wanting to leave her alone, for fear of what might happen, I pulled 
a quietly protesting Stephanie with me toward my hotel. I stood by, 
hands in pockets, trying to ignore the angry stares of passersby as 
Stephanie stood on the edge of the grass, vomiting out what looked to 
be her evening's worth of alcohol.

"We need to get some food in you," I admonished, dragging her upstairs 
to my tiny room. I had some bread and cold cuts in my hotel 
refrigerator, and I quickly made her a sandwich, which she greedily ate.

It was late, long after midnight, and I didn't know where Stephanie was 
staying, and wasn't sure she did either at the moment, so I made the 
decision to give her the bed. I took one pillow and blanket and curled 
up on the small sofa. I managed to stay awake long enough to make sure 
Stephanie was settled and sleeping, and quickly nodded off myself.

*****

I woke late the next morning. I looked at the clock, noticing it was 
nearly noon and sat up, the muscles in my back and neck screaming for 
relief. Seeing Stephanie was still asleep, I got up as quietly as I 
could, grabbed a change of clothes and jumped in the shower.

I was startled by a timid knock on the door.

"Yes?"

"Who are you?" It was Stephanie, of course, and I knew she was nervous, 
having just found herself in a strange hotel room.

"I'm a friend," I called back. "Just a minute, Stephanie, I'll be out 
in a second."

"But where am I?" she cried. "Who are you? How do you know me? What happened?"

Realizing she was on the verge of hysterics, I turned off the water. I 
wrapped a towel around my waist and opened the door.

"It's okay," I said, seeing Stephanie curled up on the floor, her head 
in her hands. She slowly looked up at me, relaxing noticeably as she 
realized who I was.

"Eric!" she shouted, jumping to her feet. "What.. when... how?"  The 
previous night had obviously taken its toll on her, and Stephanie 
moaned as her hangover hit her full force and she slumped down onto the 
bed.

I smiled, and slowly explained the previous evening to her. As I'd 
thought, she had no recollection of our meeting. She smiled sadly as I 
described her behavior, embarrassed at having been found in that 
condition.

"Thank you," she said quietly. She walked close to me and threw her 
arms around my neck, pressing her body against mine.

She was wearing only panties and a thin t-shirt and was soon damp from 
pressing against my own body, which was still wet from the shower. I 
felt her soft breasts pushing against my bare chest. I could feel the 
tiny nipples poking through the shirt.

Despite the previous night, Stephanie still felt and smelled clean to 
me, and the realization of who I was holding in my arms, coupled with 
my own near-nakedness, soon had my cock swelling and pushing against 
her hip, through the white hotel towel.

Stephanie felt it as well, and to my relief and surprise, didn't pull 
away - if anything she pressed herself closer to me. I could feel the 
heat of her pussy against my leg as we held each other. Finally I 
squeezed her tight and released her.

"It's good to see you," I said. She smiled, looking at the obvious 
bulge in the towel.

"Obviously." she giggled.

"Flirt," I teased, heading back to the bathroom. She was still watching 
as I closed the door behind me, shaking my head at the sudden change in 
my situation.

I quickly changed into my clothes, not wanting to embarrass her further 
and offered her a shower. I found out she was in town on spring break 
with a few college friends. She called her hotel room to let them know 
where she was, and jumped into the shower.

After Stephanie had cleaned up, I walked her back to her hotel to get a 
fresh set of clothes. I wasn't sure if I should ask to spend more time 
with her or not. She certainly had plans, or she wouldn't be in town, 
but had seemed pleased enough to see me.

My worrying turned out to be for nothing.

"What are you doing later today?" Stephanie asked, as she emerged from 
the bathroom, freshly attired in clean clothes. She was wearing a pair 
of skin-tight jeans, and a red Houston Cougars shirt that stretched 
delightfully over her firm breasts.

"The Cougars?" I asked, ignoring her question.

"That's where I go to school," she explained.

"What about... where did you used to go?"

"Arkansas-Little Rock. But I hated it. I had to get out."

"But why Houston?"

"It has a well-respected business school, and I want a good business 
degree, so I went there. Why?"

"Do you know where I live?" I asked. She shook her head and stood 
amazed, as I told her the name of my small suburb.

"Happyville? My roommate's parents live in Happyville." She sat there 
stunned, as the realization hit her. "So we can hang out and stuff, 
huh?"

"Do you want to?" I asked. "I'm kind of old, you know."

"You mean I'm kind of young, don't you?" she asked, suddenly sullen.

"No! I just mean... damn... I mean you're younger than I am, of course, 
and I wasn't sure if you'd want to hang out... sorry... do you want to 
hang out?" She nodded tentatively.

"I don't have a lot of good friends," she explained. "I'm always kind 
of shy around people, and my roommates thought it would be good to come 
here to get me out of my shell."

"Well," I said, laughing at the memory of the night before. "You were 
certainly out of your shell last night!" She blushed and punched me in 
the arm.

"Stop it. I wasn't that bad," she said, a hurt look on her face as I 
snorted in response. "Was I?" I nodded.

"Look how many beads you have," I said, pointing at the pile of 
colorful plastic beads she had acquired, and were now draped over the 
back of a chair. "How do you think you got all those?" I asked.

"I don't know, I suppose... oh God!" she cried as the realization 
struck her. "You mean, I was...?" I nodded. "Oh God."

"It's okay," I said. "I wasn't there too long, but I don't think most 
of the people there will remember last night any better than you will." 
Stephanie brightened visibly, looking relieved at my words.

"So, do you want to hang out today?" she asked again. I nodded.

"I would love to," I answered sincerely. The bright smile I received in 
return was reward enough for my efforts.

"Cool," she chirped, jumping to her feet and wrapping me in a big hug. 
She held the hug much longer and much tighter than was necessary, and I 
barely heard her when she whispered into my ear. "I missed you," she 
said.

"I missed you too," I answered, running my hand over her back. I felt 
her shiver in my arms and rubbed more insistently, to warm her up. She 
laughed, and broke our embrace.

"So what do you want to do?" she asked. I told her I hadn't really 
thought about it, but didn't want to hang out with the big crowds. She 
too, said she's seen too many parades, and didn't feel like venturing 
out with the party-goers again.

"I have an idea," I said, a plan beginning to form in my head. "Let's 
get out of here. Out of the city."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Later, you'll see later. Will your roommates care if I give you a ride 
back to Houston?" Stephanie looked incredulous at the suggestion.

"No... I don't think so. Eric, what's going on?"

"You'll see," I teased. "Where's your stuff? We should get going." She 
shook her head, but did as I asked, and quickly we were out the door.

It was a quick trip back to my hotel, where I told the clerk at the 
front desk of my change of plans. He seemed rather indignant that I 
would be leaving the day before Mardi Gras, but his demeanor warmed 
when I mentioned he would be able to get more money for the hotel room.

*****

The drive back to Eunice took much less time than the drive from there 
had taken. It seemed most of the traffic was heading into New Orleans 
for that evening's round of parades and celebrations, and I felt happy 
to be heading the opposite direction.

On the way I told Stephanie about my life, while she talked about high 
school and college. I had barely begun to talk about my short stay in 
Eunice two days before, when we were there.

Stephanie looked around at the small town in surprise. It was nearing 
sunset, and the streets seemed to be deserted for the most part. She 
didn't think it to be anything to write home about, judging by the look 
on her face.

"Don't judge it too harshly," I said, patting her on the leg. "Wait 
until you meet some of the people. They love me here." I smiled. "I'm 
practically the king of the town."

Stephanie looked at me in amusement, clearly thinking me off my rocker, 
but nodded anyway. We managed to find a room at the local Best Western. 
It wasn't as fancy as The Lafayette, but it also didn't cost me two 
hundred a night. There was a problem, which we saw when I slipped the 
key into the lock and opened the door.

"I'm sorry," I said, turning to head back to the lobby. "I'll see if 
they have a room with two beds."

"That's okay," Stephanie said quickly, pushing past me and dumping her 
suitcase on the floor. She flopped onto the bed after quickly turning 
the air conditioning down. "They probably just figured we were married 
and assumed we'd want one bed. I don't mind."

"You sure?"

"Yeah... it'll be fun. Kind of a like a sleep-over. Remember when you 
used to come over to my house and spend the night with Jason?" she 
asked. I nodded, of course I remembered.

"Those were some good times," I said, beginning to reminisce about my 
childhood.

"You guys were a couple of perverts," she said, interrupting my 
pleasant memories. "You two were always looking at dirty pictures and 
movies. Don't think I don't remember," she said, laughing at my 
expression.

I wasn't embarrassed though, but was a bit surprised. Had she forgotten 
our encounter a few days before Jason's wedding?

I raised my eyebrow at her. "Don't think I don't remember a few things 
too, missy. What about you and the Virgin Mary? You thought I'd forgot 
all about that?" She looked confused for a moment, her brow knitted in 
concentration. Perhaps she had forgotten it!

"Oh my God," she stammered, remembering the evening. "I caught you 
jacking off and..."

"And I caught you with your hand in the... cookie jar... so to speak," 
I said as she blushed, remembering how she'd looked when she realized 
I'd seen her, her hand down her panties.

"I'd forgotten about that," she moaned.

"I didn't," I whispered, almost afraid to admit what I was feeling at 
the moment. "You were so beautiful, and I was so embarrassed."

"You were embarrassed? God, I can't believe I'd forgotten all that. I 
thought you were going to hate me forever for walking in on you like 
that!"

"And I thought your dad would kill me when he found out," I replied, 
laughing along with her. Suddenly she grew quiet.

"Why did you stop sending me emails?" she finally asked. I shrugged.

"I don't know." I answered. "It just seemed like you had your own life 
and I had mine, and I didn't know if..."

"If what?" she asked quietly.

"I didn't know if you could ever feel about me the way I was starting 
to feel about you," I finally admitted, as much to myself as to 
Stephanie.

"What?" she squeaked.

"I couldn't help it," I answered defensively, afraid I had ruined the 
good mood. "You were always so pretty and smart and funny, and I was 
starting to fall for you. I didn't know how you'd feel though, since I 
was older and your brother's best friend." I shrugged helplessly.

"You should have asked," she said softly. When she looked up again, 
there were tears in her eyes. "I've been in love with you since I was 
thirteen years old, and you never seemed interested in me, and I felt 
like such a fool."

Suddenly I felt like a heel, and quickly moved to the bed and sat 
beside her. Putting an arm around her shoulders, I held her close. She 
had begun to cry a little, but quickly wiped the tears away. She was 
breathing heavily against my side, her breasts pushing into my chest. I 
could smell her perfume, and began to feel light-headed at the rush of 
sensations.

Slowly Stephanie reached a hand out, stroking the line of my jaw. She 
pulled away for a moment, staring intently at me, looking directly into 
my soul. I felt my gut twitch, and knew I could forever lose myself in 
the pools of her eyes.

"Kiss me," she said, leaning closer. I wasn't sure if it was a question 
or a command, but found myself leaning down to meet her.

Our lips touched, hesitant and unsure. Her mouth was so soft, and I 
felt my lips puffing out at the contact. I opened my mouth a bit, 
feeling her lips part also, and our tongues slipped out, dueling 
between our panting mouths.

My cock was erect in my slacks, and I squirmed on the bed, trying to 
force it into a more comfortable position. Noticing my predicament, 
Stephanie giggled into my mouth, and quickly slipped a hand down my 
front, finally coming to rest on my bulge.

I groaned as she began caressing me, and brought one of my own hands up 
to cup her soft breast in return. As she worked her hand over my shaft, 
I felt Stephanie press her tit into my hand. I was amazed at the feel 
of her tits, spongy and solid, yet so soft to the touch.

I began to smell the spicy scent of her arousal, as Stephanie's tongue 
began thrusting more insistently against my own.

Suddenly she broke off our kiss, her face flushed with desire.

"I want you to make love to me," she panted breathlessly, her hands 
feverishly working over the buttons of her pants. I nodded dumbly, too 
aroused to think of any consequences this might have for the two of us. 
I wanted her, I think I had always wanted her, and was relieved to find 
she wanted me too.

I stood, quickly undoing my own trousers. Pulling my shirt over my 
head, I stopped to stare as Stephanie turned away from me, pulling down 
her panties. The cheeks of her ass were pale and smooth, and I had to 
fight my urge to run my fingers down the deep cleft of her ass. Soon, I 
thought, forcing myself to take things slowly.

She turned back then, completely naked. A small moan of frustration 
slipped past her lips as she saw I was not yet naked.

"Hurry up," she complained, dropping to the bed. I stared, my fingers 
fumbling as I tried to remove the rest of my clothing, as Stephanie lay 
watching me. Her fingers teased over her turgid nipples, running around 
and around the pillowy flesh in circles as I dropped my underwear to 
the ground.

We were both anxious now, and I fell to the bed, collapsing beside her, 
our mouths rushing to come together again. My hand dropped to her hip 
and I let it rest there, feeling the firm muscles of her leg, before 
slowly working my way up the inside of her thigh. She knew where I was 
heading, and moaned her approval into my mouth as she spread her 
thighs, bidding me higher and higher, closer to the center of her 
pleasure.

I felt her heat and wetness before I arrived at the lips of her pussy. 
She was a puddle of desire, and I needed no extra lubrication before 
slipping a finger inside her dripping slit. Her hips bucked against my 
hand, and I remained there, motionless as she fucked herself against my 
fingers.

"Oh God," she hissed, her tongue attacking my neck and chest. "I've 
waited so long for this. So good."

Her own hands were far from idle, and I stifled my own cry as she 
circled my hard shaft and slowly began pumping my cock.

"Fuck," I groaned, feeling the slippery flesh of her fat pussy lips 
sliding together as I teased the bud of her clit, now poking up from 
its protective hood. "I have to fuck you," I moaned.

"Yes. Yes," Stephanie panted, releasing my cock. I started to move 
between her legs, but suddenly found myself thrown to my back. 
Stephanie put a hand on my chest and grinned at me as she threw a leg 
over my hips.

I could feel the wet hairs of her pussy grinding over my cock, and 
groaned at the realization I was inches away from sliding my prick into 
the beautiful, sexy woman leaning over me. As I reached out my hands to 
cup her breasts, I felt Stephanie reach her hands down, grasping my 
cock. Holding my erection straight up, she slowly lowered her pussy 
down my entire length.

"Ohhh," she groaned, and I moaned along with her when at last my entire 
length was buried in her, our pubic mounds brushing together. Stephanie 
collapsed against me, throwing her face against my chest and held 
there, motionless.

Even without the rest of her body, Stephanie's pussy muscles were a 
symphony of movement against the shaft of my cock. I groaned at the 
sensations of thousands of fingers teasing me and I grabbed at her 
fleshy thighs, pulling her, urging her to move.

Stephanie pulled herself up and began rocking her hips. Her face was 
frozen in a mask of pure lust, her mouth hanging agape as she moaned 
out her passion. Stephanie started thrusting her hips up and down my 
length, slowly building her momentum until at last her hips were 
crashing down on my own as I lay under her, slowly thrusting up to meet 
her movements.

I knew I wouldn't last long at this pace, and tried to warn her.

"If you keep that up," I moaned, "I'm not going to be able to hold 
off." She shook her head, her long hair trailing behind her in a wave 
of yellow and gold.

"Harder," she panted. "I'm almost there. So close. Hurry up!" The last 
was shouted, as her hands beat down on my chest, her hips rocking back 
and forth against mine.

I only lasted a few more lunges before I felt a rush of semen up my 
cock, as I coated her insides with spurt after spurt of my cum.

My orgasm triggered her own, for immediately Stephanie froze above me. 
I could feel the muscles in her cunt clamp down on my cock, almost 
painful in their strength. She let out a high-pitched wail as her 
climax shook through her body, and suddenly fell down against me, 
drained for the moment.

We lay there together, motionless but for the shallow rise and fall of 
our chests. I could feel her heartbeat again my chest as it slowly 
returned to normal. When I felt she had calmed enough, I started to 
stand to get a washcloth, but Stephanie held me in place.

"Don't move," she said, raising her head to look at me. "I want to stay 
like this. I want to keep you inside me all night."

I nodded, and she returned her head to my chest. We lay there for a few 
moments, exhausted from our coupling, and slowly drifted to sleep.

*****

I awoke the next morning a bit disoriented. Where was I? My eyes opened 
wide with the realization of exactly where I was and what had happened 
the night before.

I must have shaken the bed, for suddenly a sleepy voice called to me.

"Eric? What time is it?" I looked and saw Stephanie laying on the bed. 
She was naked and bedraggled, and I could see dried flecks of my sperm 
and her own juices on her legs and thighs. She was beautiful.

"It's early," I whispered. "Go back to bed if you need to. I didn't 
mean to wake you."

"No," she said, more clearly this time. "I'm up." She looked at me, 
smiling. "Last night was... wow."

"That it was," I said softly.

"Are you okay?" Stephanie asked, concerned. I smiled, stretching out to 
wipe a stray hair from her eyes.

"I'm perfect. You were perfect. Last night was wonderful. Shocking, 
surprising, totally unexpected though." She giggled, her breasts doing 
amazing things as they bounced and quivered on her chest. "But 
wonderful."

"Good," she said firmly. I watched as she stood and walked to the 
bathroom, the cheeks of her firm ass sliding up and down together. I 
felt my cock thicken and swell with arousal, and blushed when she 
turned and saw me.

"I can't help it," I protested mildly. "You're so beautiful." Her face 
softened, and she smiled.

"Care to join me in the shower?" she asked, laughing as I jumped out of 
bed to join her.

We bathed together in the hotel room's tiny shower stall, and I for one 
didn't mind a bit being forced together in such a small space. We 
washed slowly, each of us exploring the other's body. There was nothing 
overtly sexual about it, just two people washing each other. Two people 
in love I realized, somewhat shocked at my discovery about my feelings. 
We left the shower and slowly dried each other, clean and fresh and 
ready for the day.

After we had dressed, Stephanie got a strange look on her face.

"I don't know how to ask it," she said, clearly nervous. "What is there 
to do in this little town?" I laughed.

"Just wait. From everything I've heard, it's a blast. These Cajuns 
really know how to throw a Mardi Gras party." She shrugged, obviously 
unconvinced, but happily took my hand as we walked across the street to 
the diner where I'd eaten three days prior.

"King Eric!" I heard as we entered the door. Joseph was still behind 
the counter, a massive pile of humanity. I laughed when he yelled, 
seeing people turning to look, trying to see who had come in the door.

"Hello," I said, waving my hand in the air quickly. Stephanie elbowed 
me in the side.

"You weren't kidding," she said, wide-eyed with surprise.

"Nope," I said, laughing as we took a seat. Betty was once again our 
waitress, and she burst into laughter when she saw me.

"You work fast," she exclaimed, seeing I had returned with a girl, and 
a beautiful one at that. "I didn't think you could do it. Frankly, I 
didn't think you'd be back this way, 'less it was after you partied 
yourself out in the city. What brings you back this way, hon? 
Everything alright?" She looked concerned for me, and I was glad to 
have returned. It felt right, somehow.

"I'm fine. I ran into an old friend in New Orleans," I said, giving 
Stephanie a little squeeze around the waist. "I had such a good time, I 
decided to show her the real Mardi Gras."

Betty clapped her hands, happy to have us back. "That's wonderful," she 
cried. "Joseph! Get some good food out here, you have a king and queen 
to feed!"

"Yes Ma'am," he shouted from the kitchen. "I'll be right out with a 
feast for our young highnesses!"

Stephanie looked at me curiously. "King and Queen?" she asked. Betty 
laughed as she brought us glasses of milk and a large pot of coffee.

"You didn't know you was royalty?" she asked. Stephanie shook her head, 
a perplexed look on her face. Betty laughed louder, drawing a few looks 
from the other diners, before again sitting at our table. She explained 
the tradition of the plastic baby, but only confused Stephanie further.

"Why was there a baby in the cake?" she asked me. I shrugged, unsure of 
the origins.

"I've only been king for a few days," I joked, and Joseph laughed as he 
brought us plates, piled high with sausage and eggs and grits.

"It's an old tradition," he said. "Started long time ago. You folks 
heard of Carnival?" he asked.

"Like the big party in Rio de Janeiro?" Stephanie asked. Joseph nodded.

"That's the one. You youngsters ever go to church?" I nodded, I'd gone 
a few times. "Well, you know about the three wisemen, or the three 
kings from the East? Carnival starts right after Epiphany, which is 
when they found the baby Jesus, and gave him gifts. From then until 
Mardi Gras is called Carnival, being that it's a time for parties. 
These parties have been going on forever, but most of them involve 
finding a treasure inside a cake, kind of symbolizes the Kings finding 
Jesus."

"So the plastic baby is Jesus?" asked Stephanie. Joseph nodded. 
Stephanie looked amazed, and I had to admit I was too. I'd never heard 
this story before. I'd never really thought about where Mardi Gras came 
from, just that it was a big party.

"So that's why the King Cake is round and decorated up all pretty in 
purple and gold in green. Those are royalty colors, and that's why the 
cake looks like a crown."

"That's great," said Stephanie. "I never knew any of that." She looked 
up at me, smiling. "This is so much better than Bourbon Street."

We quickly finished our breakfasts and left the diner, stuffed to the 
gills. Betty had told us if we head out down the road it was only a 
mile or so to all the festivities.

Stephanie and I spent the day with the townspeople. We watched the 
"Courir de Mardi Gras" which is the Mardi Gras run I'd heard about. It 
was amazing, a huge mob of people, easily six hundred people. Aside 
from the two of us, nearly everyone else had dressed up in costumes and 
masks.

We all ran around the countryside, knocking on farmhouse doors and 
begging for food to put in the gumbo for that night's party. Often we 
had to earn the food, so we would sing or dance for it. Sometimes it 
was a sack of onions, other times the farm family would throw us a live 
chicken, but we always got the food. We walked back down the street, 
loaded with sausage and onions and chickens and rice, exhausted but 
happy.

Stephanie and I returned to the diner that afternoon, where Joseph 
greeted us with a big smile and two large slices of King Cake, which we 
greedily ate, much to his delight. Satisfied, we returned to our hotel, 
where we made love again, before taking a short nap.

We held hands and whispered quietly as the two of us walked back to the 
festival. There had been talk of something amazing happening, some kind 
of world record.

When we got there, we were disappointed to learn we'd missed it. As 
Betty had told me, the town had worked on and baked "the World's 
Largest King Cake," but sadly, there was nothing left of it, but a few 
instant snapshots someone had shot.

"It must have been eighty feet long if it would have been straight, and 
at least a food wide," Betty told us. They had sold the pieces, but 
everything had been gone since that afternoon. "But I saved you two a 
piece to share, seeing as how you're the King and Queen" she whispered. 
"Don't tell Joseph." We laughed, and promised we wouldn't.

That evening was the big fais-do-do which was their big dance. We 
jumped and danced and partied and ate lots of the gumbo we'd worked so 
hard for that afternoon. Betty and Joseph were there too, having closed 
the diner for the evening. Every time we would see them, Joseph would 
wave and give us a big grin.

Finally the evening wore down, and we started to say goodbye to 
everyone. I had to be heading back, and had to drop Stephanie off on 
campus, so we needed to get an early start the next morning. As we were 
heading off to the hotel, Joseph ran to catch up with us.

"Hold on," he called, panting as he lugged his large frame over the 
sidewalk. We slowed, waiting for him to catch up.

"I'm sorry you youngsters didn't get a chance to see the big King Cake 
this afternoon, but I saved you piece. Just don't tell Betty, okay?" I 
smiled and thanked him he handed me a large piece, wrapped in wax 
paper.  I laughed, promising we wouldn't say anything to Betty the next 
morning when we stopped at the diner, before heading back to the real 
world.

*****

Almost seven years have come and gone since that trip to the Big Easy. 
I dropped Stephanie off at her dorm that night, but we never lost touch 
again. She got her degree, and I was there in the audience, sitting by 
her parents, cheering her on.

We moved in together the summer after her graduation, and two years 
ago, near our new home in Eunice, Louisiana, standing under the blue 
February sky, surrounded by revelers and the new World's Largest King 
Cake, I asked her to marry me, as Joseph and Betty watched on, smiling 
with pride.

I figured they deserved to be there, after what Joseph had said and 
done for me.

The morning we had to leave Eunice after our first Mardi Gras together, 
I had gone into the diner to grab some rolls and coffee. Betty wasn't 
there, but as always, Joseph was. As I was paying for the food, he 
looked me in the eye.

"Mr. King?" he said seriously, and I stopped counting change to look at 
him. "I knew you was a good man when you came in here, but when you 
came back with Miss Stephanie, I knew you found a good girl."

"She is a good girl," I agreed, grinning widely.

"You do right by her," he said, waving his bony finger at me. "You be 
good to her, and love her, cause I been watching you two, and that 
girl, she loves you. You make sure you treat her right, and you make 
sure you don't ever lose her. You hear me?"

I did hear him. It startled me, but I realized I had lost her once 
before, and didn't like it. And when Stephanie and I got married last 
February, I promised to never lose her again.

And I don't think I ever will.

The End

*****

Visit me on the web at:

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Jeremy_Spencer

or

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Jeremy_Spencer

Also, please visit my web diary at:

http://www.livejournal.com/users/jeremy_spencer/

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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