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Message-ID: <48363asstr$1088766605@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "dai_wakizashi" <dai_wakizashi@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} REV Tales from an Unknown Corner 01-20 {Dai_wakizashi} (MF, FF, MFF, cons, rom, an, or, toys, pet)
Lines: 17651
Date: Fri,  2 Jul 2004 07:10:05 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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<1st attachment, "tfauc-pt-00.txt" begin>






Author: Dai_wakizashi
Title: Tales from an Unknown Corner
Part: Intro
Summary: Story of a young man trying to find a path, and love
Keywords: MF, FF, MFF, oral, anal, toys, petting, romance, drama
Revision: 2.0

Web Sites:
  ASSTR- http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/dai_wakizashi/www/
  SOL-   http://storiesonline.net/home.php
  EWP-   http://www.ewpub.org/ewpub.html

Discussion Forum:
  http://www.ewpub.org/messageboard/viewforum.php?f=76


*****************************************************************


STANDARD DISCLAIMER

This piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment. It 
contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are 
offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT 
read any further.

All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to any 
persons, places, individuals or situations is purely coincidental. 
The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the 
activities described in this story.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without 
the written permission of the author, Dai_wakizashi 
(dai_wakizashiAThotmailDOTcom).

This story may be freely distributed with this disclaimer 
attached.

Copyright (c) 2003-2004 Dai_wakizashi. All rights reserved.

*****************************************************************


AUTHOR'S NOTE

*** Important Warning ***

I urge any potential reader to READ this note before reading 
"Tales from an Unknown Corner." I went to the trouble of putting 
the following together to help you get more than you might by 
diving blindly into the story. Perhaps, the following might tell 
you, why I prepared this note:



I'm, one of those impulsive people, who would rather tackle the 
job of setting up the new stereo without first consulting the 
bloody Manual, and I usually get burned for my fool-hardiness. If 
you want to move to the story without first reading these notes, 
then: "Good luck! Just don't come back whining or flaming me, 
because you've been warned!"

*****************************************************************

FOREWORD


Before I delve into some explanations, I want to make one thing 
very clear, so that readers with certain expectations are not 
disappointed!

*** This is NOT a 'stroke' story! ***

It contains some very explicit and--I'm told--hot scenes; but they 
are there for the purposes of a plot. Some of those are very 
short, some are very long, and their frequency varies a lot; 
nevertheless, they are there, as the story codes indicate! If 
you're looking for a story with people hopping from bed to bed, 
and getting it on with each other at every turn of the page, I 
suggest that you look elsewhere (there's an abundance of such). 
You might not get very much enjoyment from reading this story.

Having said that, I have to note, I would like to be read by a 
wider audience--as any other author 'would'. However, I also know 
that the individual tastes vary 'a lot', and I don't want to waste 
the time of people with something they might not be interested in.

To illustrate my point... I would like to invite the readers--who 
might still be 'skeptical' or think I'm being arrogant or 
presumptuous--to read the first two chapters, and compare them to 
the contents of, say, Chapter-7 (which contains an example of 
'stroke' material) as an example.

Please, do 'understand' that I'm not issuing a 'challenge', but 
trying as best as I can, to make my point. Of course, the apparent 
difference between those chapters might also serve to give you a 
feel for this story, and allow you to make up your mind--a chance 
for a somewhat 'informed' choice!

Very early on, I've made certain decisions about how I want to 
'write' and 'tell' this story, and I am not willing to compromise 
either on the style or on the plot line. What's more, I wrote it 
(and am writing it) for myself in the first place. And, I am just 
inviting you to a journey--please do keep in mind that I invite 
you, 'only', if you want 'to' take part in the journey--in the 
hopes that some of you might enjoy this particular trip. If you 
did not or do not enjoy the trip, I'd like to thank you for at 
least taking the time to give it a try and partake in it for a 
short time. And, I extend my best wishes to you in your search for 
something that is more to your liking.



Having given this little heads up, and the warning out of the way, 
now, I can get back to what I wanted to say...



I've said, "This is not a 'stroke' story." Then, what is it?

*** This is a 'romance' story! ***

This is a story with a plot, a mixture of complex characters, 
drama, romance, and a bit of action. It uses--what I believe--a 
somewhat unique style of narration; a very intimate, first person 
POV, that allows the reader a very direct view of the 
protagonist's inner world. I think some readers might even be 
inclined to call it an almost "in-your-face" kind of style, but 
I'm hoping that, once you've finished a few chapters, you might 
appreciate certain aspects of the narration.

At times, it develops very slowly, and at times, it's fast paced. 
There are great variations in the tempo, and I would like to urge 
the reader to take his/her time, because there are small hints, 
and details that tie together to form a complex structure, filling 
in the pieces of a puzzle picture, and, some of those hints are 
very subtle, almost innocuous, and easy to miss.

I'm not sure whether it would put off some of the readers, but my 
aim is to involve the reader in a journey, and get him/her 
invested in the story, and the characters. Thus, it requires a bit 
of work from the readers--No! Not like homework.

I meant it in the sense that if you missed the pointers, you might 
not be able to connect the dots, consequently miss some parts of 
the picture I'm trying to paint, which might lessen your 
enjoyment. I'm hoping that, with this little warning, you might be 
inclined to look a bit below what's on the surface, and try to see 
the underlying currents--and if you're the kind of reader that 
enjoys little mysteries, solving puzzles, you might find some 
added spice, flavor in this particular story.

After the first two chapters, the story changes dramatically, so 
do not expect the atmosphere of chapter-1 or chapter-2, to be the 
prevalent atmosphere. What's more, even though I explicitly stated 
in the narration and alluded to it (although somewhat innocuously) 
in chapter-2, there's a time gap of "one year" between the two 
chapters, which might take you by surprise if you miss it.

Side note: some readers mentioned, in their feedback, that they 
missed that particular detail, and they had to go back and re-read 
chapter-2 to understand the sudden, almost abrupt changes taking 
place.

Chapters 1 and 2 are introductions, and lay the ground work for 
what is to come--the basement, if you will--and even though I've 
been told those chapters were a bit of a difficult read for most 
of the readers, I've decided not to change them. Because, the 
majority of--my small but dedicated cadre of--readers acknowledge 
that, in the light of what's revealed in the later chapters, the 
first two chapters play a very pivotal role.

*****************************************************************

SUMMARY of the STORY


It is a story of an angry and hurt young man, who still carries 
that excess baggage with him, and his journey to find some 
answers, a path, and perhaps eventually friendship, love, and 
happiness. You'll learn about his past, and follow his journey at 
present. You'll get to meet the people around him, who cross his 
path, and sometimes, give shape to his journey.

It's a long journey, filled with many twists and turns; momentary 
happiness, and times of hurt and anger, and at times 
contemplative.


*****************************************************************

CREDITS

Several people are involved with this work apart from me as the 
author.

Two individuals, Rob and Terry, have been editing this work, and 
continue to do so. Earlier, there were a few more editors, who 
have begged off due to various other commitments. But, ALL of them 
have my sincere thanks and gratitude for their part in making this 
story what it is. Without their help, certainly, this project 
wouldn't even have taken off nor would have continued this far.

For quite some time, I was planning to re-edit the older material 
(chapters 1-20), and having revised them I needed some help to get 
the text checked. Because my editors are already busy with new 
material, a few readers had been kind enough to respond to my 
request, and helped me. Kevin, and a few others who prefer to 
remain anonymous have my thanks and gratitude for a job well done.

Guys, thank you, thank you very much!


And finally, a quick word or two on availability...

*****************************************************************

AVAILABILITY and PRESENTATION


ASCII is not suited for this story, because the original text (in 
html) makes use of styles that makes it easier to read it. Italics 
and emphasis are very difficult to convey in the world of simple 
ASCII presentation. I have used "_" to indicate italic words 
(emphasis), and all-italics paragraphs (inner thoughts), which 
sometimes seem a bit visually cluttered or distracting (in ASCII). 
If you really want to experience the full flavor, and a better and 
comfortable read, I would recommend you to try the HTML version of 
this story at any one of the three web sites it is being published 
(with almost regular weekly posts).

This story is being posted at three web sites; ASSTR: 
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/main.html SOL: 
http://storiesonline.net/home.php EWP: 
http://www.ewpub.org/ewpub.html

Among the three, ASSTR gives me the most flexibility in 
controlling the presentation, and I genuinely believe that the 
copy being published at ASSTR might surprise you--I've tried to 
give a "book feel", to make your reading experience as enjoyable 
as possible.

Of course, the others (SOL, and EWP) are also very good, but I 
don't have much control over the presentation.

In addition, all the sites have facilities for anonymous 
communication; that is, if you ever feel like dropping a line or 
two after reading my rants here, or parts of the story! ;-p


So... if you're still interested... why don't you turn the page to 
chapter-1? ;~p}



Dai_wakizashi July 01, 2004, The Netherlands
<1st attachment end>


<2nd attachment, "tfauc-pt-01.txt" begin>






Title: Tales from an Unknown Corner
Chapters: 01-05 (of 20)
Author: Dai_wakizashi
Universe: Tfauc
Summary:  Journey of a troubled young man looking for a path and 
people around him, who, at times, give shape to his journey.
Codes: MF, FF, MFF, oral, anal, toys, petting, romance, drama
Status: in progress
Revision: 2.0

Web Sites:
  ASSTR-  http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/dai_wakizashi/www/
  SOL-        http://storiesonline.net/home.php
  EWP-       http://www.ewpub.org/ewpub.html

Discussion Forum:
   http://www.ewpub.org/messageboard/viewforum.php?f=76

*****************************************************************

STANDARD DISCLAIMER

This piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment. It 
contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are 
offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT 
read any further.

All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to any 
persons, places, individuals or situations is purely coincidental. 
The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the 
activities described in this story.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without 
the written permission of the author, Dai_wakizashi 
(dai_wakizashiAThotmailDOTcom).

This story may be freely distributed with this disclaimer 
attached.

Copyright (c) 2003-2004 Dai_wakizashi. All rights reserved.

*****************************************************************



              TALES FROM AN UNKNOWN CORNER  [Tfauc]



CHAPTER - 1: A Little War Game



_I don't need this shit!_

My anger was slow to rise but it sure was making steady progress. 
The same old argument... same discussions... it's always been the 
same thing.

_What the fuck I was doing in this God-forsaken place?_

_Helllooo! That's what I do for a living. It's my job. This is 
where I work._

But it wasn't as simple as that. It never was. At the back of my 
mind, I knew that. I couldn't even say what I thought. Just, 
"Yes, Sir. I understand your concern. Yes, Ma'am. I know you are 
worried, but there is nothing to worry about."

_Well... that didn't work this time, did it?_

How could it? All my explanations, and counter-arguments to 
placate them and still... they sounded hollow! Even to my ears.

I stepped in my office cabin, slamming the door shut. I felt like 
tearing something to pieces. As I stood fuming there, my gaze 
systematically going over items in the room, categorizing them 
for suitability, my mind was still busy with the telephone call 
and the source of my anger.

There was no way I could make them understand or convince them. 
Not with last week's attack.

_Shit! That's never happened before._

Oil rigs, and production stations were almost exempt from all the 
attacks; private sector stuff, but especially the foreign 
investments. With last week's attack that changed. Everything 
changed. Nobody knew the rules of the game anymore, or if this 
was an entirely new game. My parents knew that as well. If not, 
they must have realized the change in trend after that attack.

Why did I expect them to understand anything? They were parents! 
Of course, they were worried. Especially after this last 
incident. It was in the papers. Previously, it was soldiers 
ambushed, government officials attacked, civilians in government 
service killed. Now, an oil rig was attacked--private foreign 
investment. I didn't want them worried, but unless I packed and 
returned home, there was no way I could get them off my back. 
That was unacceptable. They had tried to run my life before, but 
not to this extent! That left several options; cut off my contact 
with them, or read them the riot act. Full confrontation; they 
could take it or leave it.

_Is it time... to burn my remaining bridges?_

I didn't want to contemplate that. Not now. It was too early for 
that, and a plunge I didn't want to take. Their health was not 
what it used to be, and I didn't want to be the cause of 
something else--as if I didn't carry enough with me! However, in 
my current frame of mind my anger was taking over me. I was 
dangerously close to releasing my fury, unchecked, on whoever 
happened to be in my way, parents or not, and the temptation to 
do something like that had never been so great as now.

I was trying to cope with it myself, trying to understand this 
new development; not that there was much to cope with it. After a 
while you get used to it, and don't think about it. And that was 
all there is to it. Nothing more, nothing less. You keep your 
eyes open, and carry on. Sometimes, there was a mild adrenaline 
rush associated with it, feeling alive, and pumped up. On very 
rare occasions I didn't care much, one way or another; when I was 
too tired to keep the anger burning, and my demons were visiting 
me, trying to invade the emptiness inside, but they were few and 
far between.

_Damn it! Enough is enough. Don't you understand? I need some 
breathing room! I don't need this shit from you. I already have 
enough on my mind._

I was almost tempted to say these exact words on the phone, to my 
dad and mom. Jeeez!!! I don't know how I managed to keep my 
temper in check. I was sorely tempted to utter those very words 
to make them understand...

_My job. My life. My decision. End of story! End of argument! 
That's the way things are!_

But, I knew that wouldn't help. They would never understand or 
accept it. They were worried sick, and in panic. They would have 
gone off the deep end. But, I had had enough of all the quarrels. 
How could they know what it was costing me every time I had to 
take their worries into consideration when I had to make a 
decision? When the hell was I going to be able to live my fucking 
life? When? It wasn't just frustrating, it was driving me nuts! 
And, it was very tiring, psychologically draining, as if I didn't 
have enough problems keeping my sanity. As if... as if I didn't 
feel like burning all my bridges.

_Don't! Don't go there! Therein lay madness!_

_If I hadn't called them..._

But that was wishful thinking, wouldn't have solved anything. 
Worse, they would have been even more worried. Now, I understood 
what fighting with one hand tied meant.

_Fuck! I've been fighting with both hands tied! It's been like 
that since the day I arrived here, three years ago. Uphill fight 
all along. Every bloody week the same question: "When are you 
going to leave that place and find a job here?"_

The problem wasn't finding a job back at home. I didn't fit in. 
Not there. Not in a 9-to-5 job, where people had regular 
schedules, regular lives, and socialized. There wasn't anything 
that could keep me busy, or challenge me to drive myself as hard 
in that world. Besides, I didn't want to be caged in an office, 
with harsh fluorescent lighting, stupid office politics, petty 
jealousies and the gossiping. I had too much excess baggage. I 
had too much hurt and pain. I just wanted to be away, far away 
from anything that had been familiar, away from the hurt and 
pain, anything that reminded...

I knew that. They knew that, even if they didn't understand it. 
And, there was just too much emptiness inside me. What little 
warmth left inside me was within a protective shell--too fragile 
to be exposed to the ravages of the past. I didn't know how to 
deal with that. So, I filled the emptiness with anger, to keep 
the pain, and hurt at bay. I wasn't angry at people, or the 
world, although from outside, it probably looked like that--
_Wasn't it what some friends said at the time; "Why are you so 
angry?"_--I was angry at myself. It was the only thing that kept 
me moving. Smoldering inside me, always under tight control, and 
never allowed free reign, unless provoked. But, keeping busy 
helped, using up all the untapped energy of my anger.

_Don't you get it? I have a job. One that I enjoy. Better yet, it 
keeps me busy, so I don't dwell on... past... history. It keeps 
me away from the pain and hurt. OK?_

_Do I have to spell it out?_

_You want to hear it?_

_OK! Here we go. Repeat after me, until you've got it crystal 
clear. I don't ever wanna set foot back there, not even at my 
beloved beach. Got it? It's history. I don't want any part of it. 
I just want to forget it all, forget it ever happened, erase it 
from my memory._

There was no way I was going to say it. Hell, they knew it. Well, 
parts of it, anyway. They saw some of it happen, but we never 
talked about it. Why talk about it? It happened in plain sight of 
most everybody. They just didn't know about the details... they 
didn't need to. Some things were better left where they are. 
Sometimes, saying "better leave some things where they are," 
hurt.

The point is, it happened. They were willing to act as if it 
never happened... but of course, they never really understood it, 
did they? They thought it would blow over. I once thought as they 
did. Otherwise, why did I tell them it was a temporary job when I 
signed the contract. I thought it would be a matter of months, 
and I would be back. I thought I wouldn't be able to stay far 
away from that beach--my beloved beach--or for that matter any 
beach, and the sea for so long. Just a little bit of a time-
out... to regroup.

But I did. I was here. It had been three years, and I didn't see 
an end yet. Sand, and rock, and dusty wind beneath an angry sun, 
and knee deep in snow, in icy cold. There was a stark beauty in 
this desolate, empty expanse, but I seldom noticed that beauty; 
perhaps only on those rare occasions when my subconscious drew 
parallels between this empty expanse and the emptiness inside me. 
Most of the time, I didn't care much for the place. It wasn't 
home, never going to be one, and I wasn't looking for one. 
Winters were more bearable; the cold numbing me, and my senses, 
giving me a brief respite from dwelling on the emptiness inside 
me, or my anger, or all the other hurtful things I tried to keep 
at bay. The hypnotic quality of the softly falling snow, slowly 
covering the rig with a white blanket; the sound of engines and 
heavy machinery muffled by the large flakes that kept falling 
like confetti, drifting down like Autumn leaves on an October 
afternoon. I would stand outside my cabin, and watch it for hours 
on end, finding some kind of peace in the serenity of the scene--
if only for a while. Still, it was nothing like my beach, like 
that particular shore. At times, I missed my beach, any beach, 
something fierce. Those times, how I wished I could say, "I 
hardened my heart and forged on."

_I just don't know how much of a heart I have. I don't even know 
if it would pass for one, or be called as such._

As my gaze kept looking for something to expel my anger and 
frustration, sadness filled me at the realization of how lonely I 
felt. Abandoned, even by the people who were supposed to...

_Can it ever get lonelier than this? If they aren't willing to 
listen, if they aren't willing to understand what I feel, what I 
want._

_Just leave me alone, let me do what I want!_

And yet, I had to comfort and reassure them.

_Why? Somebody, tell me why? It's their fucking job, not mine! 
Who's the parent, who's the child, anyway? Why in God's name they 
don't leave me be? Why do I even bother to talk to them when 
their minds are set?_

"Filial piety!" my inner voice whispered.

"Fuck off! I don't need this shit!" was my response.

I could taste my anger, bitter like bile...

"There!" my eyes said, locating something I could direct my anger 
at.

I reached to pull the big cardboard (with a bunch of 9-by-13 
pictures taped on it) from the wall, ready to tear it into 
pieces. Finally, I had something to take out my anger on. But, 
when I realized what I was holding, I just couldn't... suddenly, 
I lost my steam.

My eyes went over each picture; scenes from my beach at different 
seasons at different hours of the day. And, an empty spot for a 
missing picture--part of the past that I was still trying to put 
behind me. It had been there for a short while, until the color 
was indelibly etched in a small corner of my memory, burning 
bright as my anger at myself... my failure.

These were the pictures that--every so often--kept me breathing, 
when I wanted to recall the cool morning breeze rich with iodine 
and salt. They accompanied me from location to location, from 
mountains to deserts. They were the only reminders that there 
was, somewhere, a cold blue sea, spread like a satin sheet early 
in the morning... the feel of wet sand under my feet, as I took 
my afternoon run along the shoreline, cutting through the gentle 
waves that swept in and out. The blue waters of an ancient sea... 
rich in legends, and myths... keeper of secrets, and lost souls.

I didn't dare touch them. I'd never known when I would need their 
company. I gently placed the cardboard back on the wall. These 
pictures helped me remember the happiness. Whenever the anger 
started to overwhelm me, they had been there. Whenever I dared to 
check on that little warmth; to make sure it was still there, or 
to stroke and nurture it--like an infant--they had kept the 
demons at bay.

_I left behind, enough... more than enough._

_Why is it easy to recall painful memories, when I have to work 
to recall the joyful moments?_

As I pondered that, something else swept those thoughts aside.

_Why do I remember so much of everything, good or bad?_

The deadly silence of the cabin offered no answers. As usual. I 
knew I wasn't going to sleep. I checked my watch, and it was 
getting close to midnight. I decided to go to the bar cabin. I 
was off-shift for the next 36 hours...

_Nope... make that 29 hrs._

_Shit! That's what I need! As if all that happened was not 
enough. 29 hrs of doing nothing but brooding._

But, before I could get back to brooding, I needed to make 
another call.

_I hope he's not asleep. It's been a long time... since college. 
How in the hell did he survive the attack? If I hadn't seen his 
name in the paper, I wouldn't even know he had been there._

It took me a while to get connected, but I reached him. After 
wishing him a fast recovery, we went over the incident. I 
listened as he told me what happened. My anger returned. It 
didn't take longer than fifteen minutes to get the necessary 
details. As I put the handset down, my mind was already 
contemplating who was going to be the victim of my wrath among 
the assholes in the management.

_Fucking lying bastards! Assholes! Never mind the fact that it 
was another company that got hit this last time. We've been 
saying this was coming, for 2 months already. They even tried to 
hide the details of the attack. They still haven't arranged 
protection for some of the installations. What if one of the 
unprotected stations was hit..._

Competitors or not, most companies exchanged information on 
general security and safety. There was no way they didn't know 
the exact details of this attack. They must have had gotten all 
the details, but they had downplayed the whole incident as an 
unfortunate happening. Several wounded, including one foreigner--
that was by mistake--and three dead; two of them engineers, and 
the last one a student from the college--barely 19 years old.

_Jesus Christ on a fucking crutch! What a waste... 19 years old. 
Slaughtered like sheep._

Our rig was protected by a team of 30 heavily armed soldiers. 
However, the other facilities, like the production stations 
(where the oil was being collected), didn't have anything like we 
had, only patrols sweeping the area. I wondered what the 
management would do when the engineers in the stations got to 
hear the story I'd just been told.

_Those bastards better get their fat asses in gear, and do 
something before it's too late... before something similar 
happened to us... if they don't want to be hit by accusations of 
gross negligence._

I needed to think about this carefully, but I was too angry to 
think clearly. No wonder my parents were scared. If they had 
known the truth... Well, parts of the attack were in the 
newspapers, but the details were sketchy, or completely wrong. 
However, one thing was obvious whatever way you looked at it; the 
whole ball game just changed!



* * * * *



I walked into the bar cabin, and after closing the door, scanned 
the room looking for a quiet corner. It was almost empty. One rig 
hand was nursing his beer on a stool, and a grizzly driller was 
standing behind the bar drinking some mixed stuff. Rig move time, 
when most of the off-shift personnel enjoyed some drinks. The 
driller had 24 hours off, his counterpart taking over. I hated 
that period of a few days. I wasn't involved in any of it. The 
idea of going to town for a day or two at the office didn't 
appeal at all.

I picked up a can of Coke, and moved to the other side of the 
cabin; the entertainment center, with the TV, and the stereo. It 
was empty, and that suited me just fine. Finding a comfortable 
chair by a small table, I sat down. I wanted to ease my anger and 
cool off, before I got back to thinking about my options; with my 
parents and with the company. Well, I wasn't worried about the 
company. If I became too much of a headache, they could easily 
pay my severance, and cancel my contract. At this moment, I 
didn't give a damn about the money or the job.

_When the time comes, I'll cross that particular bridge._

But, I wasn't going to let them fuck the few people I cared 
about. Most of them sitting at this moment in those stations. 
They were not friends, not really, but colleagues, some of them 
good people. I didn't have friends here.

_That's a joke! You never tried to make friends with anybody 
here!_

_Yeah? Well, we both know why, don't we? So shut your trap! I 
don't need you bothering me with your stupid comments._

While I was lost in thought I didn't notice someone walking over. 
I heard the scraping sound of a chair being picked up. Then it 
was placed on the other side of my table. The rude interruption 
forced me to look up. It was the driller, and he sat down 
opposite me. Filling up two shot glasses from a bottle of whisky, 
he pushed one glass across the table, saying, "Drink up. It's 
celebration time. Rig move."

I hated rig-moves. It was always messy, and it took almost all 
day to get the camp cabins moved and hooked up with electricity 
and water.

_I would be better of at the office in town for a day._

I wasn't feeling like company, especially at this moment. I knew 
this guy. Big bear of a man, hard working, and sharp. He spoke 
very good English for a German. He had to, as everybody spoke 
English to varying degrees of fluency. He usually dropped by my 
office for reports, and discussed ongoing operations, and other 
details. I never socialized with him--well, almost with nobody--
so I was a bit ticked off and surprised that he sought my 
company. I always kept to myself when I was off-duty. Everybody 
knew that, and the new arrivals learned fast. Here, I could have 
that, but not when caged in an office somewhere in a city.

_Loner! Not a very good reputation!_

_Yeah? As if I give a damn. Shut the fuck up!_

I pushed back the glass. "Thanks, but I already have a drink," I 
said, pointing to my can of Coke.

He picked up his glass and downed it, and set his eyes on me, 
giving me an appraising look. I returned his gaze trying to make 
him understand I would rather be left alone. Ignoring my look, he 
filled his glass, and pushed the other glass back to me, urging 
me to take the drink. I was getting seriously ticked off with his 
attitude. I picked up my Coke, and sat back, telling him with my 
eyes to get lost. He wasn't drunk at all, I could see that, but 
he was ignoring the signals I was giving him that he wasn't 
welcome at the table.

_What an asshole!_

I shook my head internally.

He downed his glass, and setting it on the table gave me a look. 
"I heard you had a long phone call. Third call to home this week. 
Problems?"

_What the... It's none of your fucking business. Why don't you 
fucking get lost and leave me alone, instead of butting your nose 
into my personal affairs?_

I chose to ignore the question. "I registered the time. I'll pay 
it... as usual."

Long distance personal calls were always charged.

Laughing, he said, "Hell, son. I'm not worried about the phone 
cost."

Resentment flared up at his use of _son_, and I didn't even 
attempt to hide my displeasure--you could hardly call it 
displeasure, it was downright anger. There was no way he could 
mistake my look. He didn't even flinch... the _cocky bastard_! 
That made me more angry. Everything that had accumulated since 
the phone call was slowly coming up for a nice boil. I hadn't 
expelled even a bit of my anger up to now, only suppressed it.

I was starting to enjoy the feeling of it simmering, so I chose 
to let it come out to the surface very slowly. It was such a 
sweet sensation, like a good red wine that you roll on your 
tongue, savoring the different flavors of spices, appreciating 
the rich texture, noting all the little details about the whole 
experience. It was warming my insides with its heat, and I wanted 
to feel its searing heat when it boiled over.

"I think you should take a deep breath, and then take a sip of 
the whisky. That will ease your nerves," he said softly, taking 
me by surprise.

He knew very well I wasn't nervous, but angry. But, after his 
pointed remark, I took a moment to go over why he said what he 
said, the way he said. I realized I was contemplating violence 
against this guy... in anger. I should have known better. I don't 
usually direct my anger at people, well, not exactly... I don't 
use violence in anger. They are two different things. I do use 
angry words against people when they have it coming, but I rarely 
used violence when angry. Now, I realized I was letting my anger 
control me, instead of the other way round. I had let my guard 
down, not expecting an immediate danger. But, danger lurked in 
the most unexpected corners, and came out in different shapes... 
like anger.

_Has it been that long that I have forgotten the most basic 
lessons?_

Trying to collect myself, I thought off that beach... _my 
beach_... the water gently lapping between my toes, washing away 
the sand... a soft, cool breeze slithering across my chest, 
caressing me, giving me goose bumps where my skin was wet. As I 
felt each gentle sweep of the sea lap at my feet, I let it suck a 
piece of the anger that was welling up inside me. I could feel 
the heat inside me cooling off bit by bit. I didn't want to let 
it go, but I realized that this guy could make me do something I 
would regret.

With a cold voice, I said, "I don't remember inviting you to the 
table."

He gave me a long curious look, then filled up his glass. Nodding 
at my glass, he said, "I think you'll like it."

I took a sip from my Coke, watching him finish his glass and wipe 
his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt.

"What are you brooding about? The attack last week?" he asked, 
when I didn't respond.

I shook my head with an impassive face.

He gave me a quizzical look. "You're not scared of something 
happening here, are you?"

I almost laughed at that bit, the corner of my mouth barely 
curling...

_If I did care about it I wouldn't be here, now, would I?_

Suddenly I was saddened by that thought...

_Do I really not care? When did that happen?_

_Shit! I don't want to go there. That road leads to madness. I 
have other things to think about. If this asshole would leave me 
alone, maybe I could..._

"I thought not," he said, perhaps catching my amused expression, 
before he continued. "I was talking with the Captain, this 
evening."

That would be the 30-something soldier who spoke some passable 
English.

When I didn't respond, he continued, "He was impressed with your 
shooting. He told me you went with a few of his guys for target 
practice in the afternoon, after your shift."

That was the only fun thing here to do to kill time. Nothing but 
rocks... and tin cans to shoot at. I wanted to see if I still had 
it after my time in the service, a few years ago.

"Do you carry?" he asked.

I shook my head again.

_Why should I? Do I need it? I'm not as good with a pistol as I'm 
with an automatic rifle. What good is a pistol against 
Kalashnikovs?_

"I heard from your colleagues that it was easy to get a carry 
permit, and a pistol. I know some of them carry."

_Shit man! You don't know what you're talking about._

I couldn't ignore this comment.

"It's a couple hours work to get a regional carry permit and a 
handgun, but it's not worth it. In fact, you'll be making a 
target of yourself. If they know you're carrying, they'll try to 
get you. Probably when you're on a deserted section of the road, 
just to get your gun. And they would know who's carrying. The 
crew are all local people, and it's hard to keep a pistol a 
secret," I told him. "Besides I'm not good with a pistol."

"And you trust the protection we have?" he asked, now that he got 
me talking. "Did you go with them to see how good they are, or 
how good you are?"

_Oh, this is rich! This guy has ideas!_

I shrugged my shoulders, instead of answering.

"You know, I know that military service is compulsory in this 
country, so you must have been in the service," he commented.

"Yeah, I was. Nothing special. I know which end the bullets come 
out," I replied with another shrug.

That drew a short laugh from him, that turned into a chuckle. "As 
I said, the Captain was impressed, and that makes me worry about 
them. Are they any good?" he asked, meaning the soldiers 
protecting the rig and the camp.

Instead of answering him, I decided to rattle his cage. I was 
annoyed that he had drawn me into a conversation, when I wanted 
him to leave me alone.

"You asked me if I was scared... I'm wondering if you're scared?" 
I asked.

"Of course, I am scared. There may be very little chance of 
anything happening here, so I'm not worried... much! But, things 
happen. I've seen it happen at other places."

"You don't have to worry about it. This is not _other_ places. 
They might attack, and shoot people, and blow up things, but 
they're very careful about who they shoot."

"What do you mean?"

"They don't shoot foreigners... ex-pats... That's bad business. 
They have their political wings active in several countries 
across the continent, and they will lose any support there if 
something happens to a foreigner here. Their offices will be 
closed, and any political activities will be stopped. They 
wouldn't risk it. They never have. On the other hand, my 
colleagues and I... well, let's just say we are fair game... in 
fact, the intended target."

"That's bullshit," he flared.

"How long have you been working in this country?"

"Seven years."

"Then I suggest you get your head out of your ass, buy a 
newspaper and read about the facts. It started first, by 
targeting the police and military personnel. Five years ago that 
changed; it escalated to include the government officials and 
facilities. There were isolated incidents of attacks to private 
sector facilities, but nothing serious. Two years ago, it moved 
onto teachers, doctors, and other civilians in government employ, 
and more attacks to private sector facilities. This last six 
months, it's any civilian. Mostly however, the engineers, 
technicians are killed, not the crew workers; the bunch of us 
that come from the big cities, not the locals. And, when they 
have targeted any private companies, especially the foreign 
companies, they always made sure no foreigners were harmed."

There wasn't any reason to mention that one foreigner was wounded 
by mistake during last week's attack.

_Shit happens when bullets start to fly. The other three hadn't 
been that fortunate._

"So that's why you were brooding... and that's why you're angry 
with me? Because I'm a foreigner?"

"You believe that!" I exclaimed with an incredulous tone, losing 
my composure.

After giving me a long look, he said, "No. You resent me, because 
I came to sit without being invited."

I couldn't resist a quip. "You've got that right... pops."

His eyes flared for a moment, at my response, _pops_, before he 
chuckled, perhaps remembering how he called me _son_. He took a 
moment to fill up his glass, then giving me a deliberate look, he 
said, "I like you, sonny. Come on, drink up!"

I knew he was goading me with his _son_, and _sonny_, but I 
wasn't going to take the bait. However, he was getting under my 
skin. I tried to calm myself, visiting the beach, remembering the 
warm evenings with a cool breeze when I enjoyed a Bacardi-Coke, 
while I took sips from my Coke. Then, my mind got busy with 
another thought, and not the first time. Why did I recall 
memories so vividly, as if they were frames out of a filmstrip? 
But, this was more than that. It was a living, breathing 
experience. I could still recall the taste, the smell, the 
color... almost all the senses associated with each memory, each 
time I did take a stroll in the past, choosing a moment, a place 
or an incident. It was my curse.

He was not going to let up on me, so after a few minutes of 
silence, he broke it with another question. "What is it that you 
practice, late in the afternoons?"

_What the fuck are you talking about now?_

When I didn't respond, he elaborated. "I was checking the crown 
on the derrick, a few days ago. I usually have my binoculars with 
me when I go up the derrick, and take a look at the surrounding 
area when I'm finished. It's 120 feet up, so gives a good field 
of view. I saw you practicing. It didn't look like karate or 
anything."

_There's no fucking privacy in this place!_

"It wouldn't. Karate is Japanese."

"So what is it?" he asked.

"It's something Chinese. Tai Chi Chuan."

He filed this little bit somewhere, and then switched topics. 
"You were on another rig, as a student, couple of years ago."

That would have been 4-5 years ago, when I was doing my industry 
training with another company. I didn't remember seeing this guy 
around that time.

_How the fuck does he know me?_

"You had a run-in with one of the ex-pats, a tall Dutch guy," he 
continued, after a pause, to refresh my memory.

_Tall Dutch guy... that describes most of the Dutch guys._

I jogged my memory...

_Yeah! I remember that stupid asshole. Thought he could run 
shotgun over me, just because I was a student._

Seeing the recognition in my eyes, he leaned on the table and in 
a conspiratorial tone, he said, "Yeah, I heard the story. He was 
a serious pain in the ass, and stupid to boot."

I knew the German and Dutch guys didn't like each other; 
something that lingered from history, but nothing serious. After 
all, the rig floor was a dangerous place, and everybody depended 
on each other doing their part and doing it properly. If not, you 
could end up either crippled or dead, but when the shift was 
over, they wouldn't socialize together, and formed their own 
cliques.

"And you're not saying that because he's Dutch?"

"Sonny, let's get one thing straight. When it's work related, 
there's no place for politics and bullshit. That was work 
related. He didn't know his job, and he had given a hard time to 
most of the contractors, but especially to us. It was bound to 
catch up with him. It was funny to hear it happen because of a 
student. That's all."

_You fucking, asshole! Patronizing, ignorant son of a bitch. I 
should take your head--_

I'm not sure how, but I managed to clamp hard on my anger, when 
it flared again--dangerously so. For a short while, I let myself 
feel the cold breeze of the early morning by my beach, while I 
contemplated my response.

"You know you're very good," I said with an icy calm and 
deliberation.

I could see he was confused by my remark and tone, and I thought 
I caught something like unease on his part. After a momentary 
quiet, he said, "I know my job."

His slight hesitation confirmed my suspicion, and I drew a bit of 
satisfaction from the knowledge, and now, it was time to let him 
have a piece of my mind!

"I wasn't talking about how good you are at your job," I replied 
flashing him a cold smile. "You're very good at insulting people. 
First, you intrude. And then, you insult; with that quip about 
how funny it is that the guy got what was coming to him from a 
student. What you imply and meant was, 'a lowly student,' and 
_that,_ is not a compliment!"

"Sonny, I didn't intend to insult--" he was saying, when I cut 
him off, before he could continue further.

"That's enough of _sonnies... pops_!" I said softly, emphasizing 
my words. My voice might have been soft, but there was nothing 
soft in my delivery; a veiled threat--a promise of repercussions-
-was very much present. "You wanna revise _that_?" I asked, 
giving him a cold stare. If my eyes could shoot icicles, he would 
have been already laying in a pool of his blood on the floor.

_You must be really thick. You don't get any hints, do you?_

For a moment, I gave serious thought to giving my anger free 
reign. I knew better. That was when I noticed my fingers on my 
left hand were rigid, like a blade, in anticipation of something. 
I flexed and let them loosen up, and took a sip from my Coke.

_Violence is not a solution. It's a last resort, and even then, 
there usually is very little justification for it... most times!_

As I remembered those words--they carried the same solemn warning 
as they had had, years ago, when I had heard them the first time-
-I tried to let go of my anger. I just felt tired. I put my Coke 
on the table, and took off my reading glasses, laying them down. 
I could feel the beginnings of a headache coming, so I massaged 
the bridge of my nose, eyes, and temples. When I was finished 
easing the tension I felt, I turned my gaze back at him. He was 
watching me like a hawk, and behind his calm eyes, he seemed to 
be appraising me.

"You have _fire_, lad. I noticed that about you when you first 
arrived here, three years ago. When I heard who had signed on, I 
kept my eyes open--after that run-in you had had... Do me a 
favor, down that glass, and talk to me," he said gently, urging 
me to reconsider with a soft expression on his face.

_I don't like this stuff, what they call whisky... Johnny fucking 
Walker. He can walk the hell away from me for all I care._

While waiting for me to make up my mind, or respond in any other 
way, he filled his glass.

_Fuck it! You wanna play, then let's play, pops! And maybe... 
just maybe, my runaway mind won't bother me when I hit the bed 
tonight... and maybe, I'll be able to sleep... I might even thank 
you tomorrow--if I'm still drunk!_

I took the glass and downed it.

_Shiiiit!!! That's worse than I remember. What's this stuff 
anyway? Broken glass, or are you using tungsten carbide inserts 
from the used up drill bits?_

As soon as I put my glass down, he picked up the bottle and 
filled it again.

_Bastard! You have 80 pounds over me, and a couple of inches._

With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I remembered Sun Tzu's 
eternal words on choosing the place and occasion for battle--and, 
that feeling had nothing to do with the spreading warmth from 
this shit I just downed! To gain time, I lit a cigarette.

_No reason to rush it and get drunk like an amateur, is there? 
I'm not going to hand it to you so easy, pops. You're going to 
work for it!_

He downed his glass, and set it on the table, waiting for me.

_Forget it! I'm not going to let you set the pace. You wanna get 
drunk, go ahead, be my guest._

After I took a long drag from my cigarette, I took a long swallow 
from my Coke. He didn't fill up his glass yet, just stared at me, 
waiting, challenging. When I ignored his challenge, he went back 
to _sonny_.

"How old are you, sonny? 22-23?"

"24."

"You ain't gonna let me set the pace, are you?"

_Very astute, pops._

I was almost starting to like this guy, but not yet. Quickly 
checking my watch, I did some mental arithmetic. "I reckon you 
have about 17 hours off-duty time. Plenty, for whatever you have 
in mind."

That earned me another chuckle and an amused look. He sat back 
for a few seconds, looking at me, seemingly mulling something in 
his mind. Then, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the 
table. "Most guys your age would try to up the ante, relying on 
their youthful stamina. You didn't even give it a second thought 
to chase it with Coke. Nobody I know, young or old, would dare do 
something like that when they are being challenged."

Ignoring his comment, I picked up my glass, and deliberately 
finished it in a few swallows, slowly, taking a drag from my 
cigarette in between sips. Putting the glass down, I picked up 
the bottle, and filled both our glasses. The point was made, so 
he didn't try the 'down the glass' act. He got off his chair, and 
went to the stereo, going over tapes and CDs. Choosing one CD, he 
put it in the player, and set the volume low--we could hear the 
music, but keep a conversation.

I didn't recognize the song. The melody and the voice of the 
singer sounded disturbingly familiar, but I didn't have the 
patience to dig in my memory to recall the name, or the tune for 
such a trivial thing. It would eventually come on its own time, 
especially if there was a song that I knew on that CD.

When he sat down, he said, "You know, you never answered my 
question."

"And what question might that be?"

"Are _they_ any good?" he asked, returning us back to the subject 
of protective detail.

"What makes you think I would know something about that?"

"Why do you evade a simple question?" he countered, in a 
businesslike manner.

This was off-duty time, and I didn't have to answer any 
questions. But, there really wasn't such a thing as 100 percent 
off-time on a rig, not on serious business. Security constituted 
one such. I could still evade it; after all this was a personal 
assessment, and we both knew that I didn't qualify as a security 
expert, not in any way. I chose a middle ground.

"Most of them are young and scared, but it's the healthy kind of 
scare. They won't slack off during guard duty. Quite a few of 
them have seen light action, so they know what they might be 
facing."

"So you trust them?"

"I stated the facts as I saw them. I didn't imply anything else."

_They aren't bad. Not at all. Just young. Most of them. Younger 
than I was when I did my short spell. They'll probably be able to 
do what they are supposed to do. I'm not concerned about that. 
I'm concerned about mistakes, accidental shootings, and that 
usually happens at night. Sometimes shit happens, there's no 
avoiding it. I just need to be a tad bit more careful._

"Shit, son. What's your problem? If you don't trust them, why are 
you not scared?"

"It's a four hour trek to the mountains, at a good running pace. 
The army will respond with helicopters in 45 minutes at the max. 
I don't think they'll attack in this area. They don't have an 
easy escape route."

"And they had an easy escape route in last week's attack to that 
rig?" he asked, to which I nodded.

"But we are moving closer to the mountains."

When I didn't respond, he got pensive.

"You don't carry, you don't trust the protective detail; yet, 
you're not scared."

I took my glass and nursed on my drink, while contemplating the 
situation.

_What's your problem, pops? It's not that I'm not scared. I just 
don't dwell on it. I could be hit by a truck tomorrow, or have an 
accident on the rig floor, or die in a plane crash while getting 
a ride back home. When your time is up, it's up. Although I 
reckon, it will be a very long time before I get my ticket 
punched. If my curse is what I think it is!_

"Is there something that scares you?" he asked.

_Huh? What kinda question is that? Everybody is scared of 
something. I hate snakes._

"Snakes."

"Snakes?" his eyebrows went up quizzically. "I figured, you're 
scared of living."

_I don't like the sound of that. Not at all!_

"And how did you arrive at that?" I asked, the distaste at his 
quip clearly visible on my face. I filled my glass and his, while 
waiting for him to answer my question.

"As I said, when I heard you signed up, three years ago, and ever 
since then, I've kept an eye on you. The few people I talked to 
about the run-in, all told me that you were a good kid, and fun 
to work with. When you arrived, the first month, you were ill at 
ease. But, you had a fever burning inside you. You worked hard, 
but didn't enjoy it. No, I don't mean the work! The place. I got 
the feeling you'd rather be elsewhere. But, you kept at it, and 
over the months, settled into a routine. But, you never 
socialized much, always keeping to yourself. Once a week, you 
called home. It usually annoyed the hell out of you, and I did 
catch glimpses of anger hidden behind it. Now, the last several 
months, I just see anger after the calls."

"And your point is?" I prompted him to continue.

"My point is, you exercise a very strong control over yourself. 
Over your emotions, and perhaps thoughts."

_Bullshit! If I did, I wouldn't have that emptiness inside me... 
a big fucking black hole. I wouldn't work so hard trying to 
forget the past--_

"Sonny, I may be lots of things, but I'm not blind. You were 
ready to resort to violence a while ago. And I know, you didn't 
give a second thought to consequences... like losing your job or 
criminal charges. You're not the type to shy away from 
violence... when it becomes necessary. Yet, you chose to rein in 
your anger, and took it under control. It was as if somebody had 
just turned a switch off. You're a ticking time-bomb."

"If you think so, what the hell are you doing standing close to a 
ticking bomb?" I asked pointedly, but with deliberate calm.

He ignored my question.

"You're a hard worker, and have many skills. What are you doing 
here? You can easily find a job elsewhere, where you'll be much 
more happy. Two of your friends already resigned, and they needed 
the money. You don't seem to care or need the money. So, it can't 
be what's holding you here," he said.

"It's the job."

"It's just a job, like any other job. Unless..."

When he didn't continue, I rose to the bait to see where he was 
going with that.

"Unless?"

"Unless, it's all that you've got."

_Jesus! You're a dangerous man, pops. I underestimated you._

Instead of giving an answer, I shrugged noncommittally.

He took a sip from his drink, but his eyes never left my face for 
a moment. "You know, I've been working in this country for seven 
years now. I know there are some very nice vacation spots. I 
never took the opportunity to take a vacation at one of those 
beautiful beaches," he said in a conversational tone, changing 
the subject swiftly.

I was wary from the sudden shift, and perked up, which he noticed 
immediately. To distract him, I finished my glass, and filled it 
up. The bottle still in my hand, I waited to fill his half-empty 
glass. Taking the hint, he downed his glass with an amused smile, 
and set it down for a re-fill. That done, I lit another 
cigarette, offering him one and lighting it.

After he took a drag, he responded, the amused smile never 
leaving his face. "Very good, sonny, very good. Was it from _Art 
of War_?"

_Sheeesh! If I'm not careful, I might get to like you. You're one 
cool customer, pops._

"Sorry, pops, it's something else. From a Japanese book."

He raised an eyebrow. "I figured you would be sticking with Sun 
Tzu."

"Most of the time. But, a single school of thought doesn't give 
you flexibility."

"Like any single martial art style, or weapon," he finished, as 
if reading my mind, before moving back to the previous subject. 
"I've seen the pictures of the beach you have in your office. 
Beautiful. Is it a vacation place or your hometown?"

"I was born inland."

"You like the sea, perhaps any place near water?"

I shrugged.

"And, yet... you choose to work here," he said with a 
contemplative tone. After a pause, he gave me a long look, and 
continued with a soft, almost sympathetic voice. "When did you 
burn your bridges, sonny?"

I wasn't expecting the question. Not at all.

_I-I-I... I didn't burn... any bridges... except..._

_I have so few of them that are still standing. I wish... I 
hadn't, that one time..._

_But sometimes, I wish... I just wish I could burn all... then, 
there won't be anything to stand in my way. I would be free to 
make my own path. And, I wouldn't have to fight every fucking 
inch of the way to make my own decisions._

_But... that's besides the point. I don't burn bridges. I learned 
that lesson the hard way. Once was... more than enough!_

Calming my shot nerves, I replied, "I don't burn bridges."

But in my mind's eye I could hear the words, "not anymore," even 
if I hadn't uttered them. The thought burned my insides like acid 
eating away, like a flame burning bright, like the color of her 
dress in...

_One stupid mistake! One failure! How did I let her--_

I didn't want to dwell on it. Not any more. And definitely, not 
now. I had learned that lesson. It was in the past, and had to 
stay there. My thoughts went back to that beach, my beloved 
beach.

_At least, that's one anchor in my life. It doesn't matter if I 
did burn the bridges or not. That place will be there for me, 
always; bridges or no bridges._

As I ran through the whole gamut of thoughts, my ears pricked up 
at the melody that was playing...

_Is... Is that Chris de Burgh playing?_

_Who listens to Chris de Burgh these days? And, this song is..._

_Oh, God, no! Not now! Not that one!_

I tried to tune the melody out, but it was insistent. I couldn't 
switch it off. Worse, it was taking me to places I rarely visited 
these last couple of years.

_We never danced to that one song. Just because she was dressed 
in red at the time, and it felt... Well, it felt kinda awkward, 
as if making a statement. And she... the feel of her fingers on 
my arm... so hot, almost branding me, as we stood watching other 
couples. Clinging to me, as if she would never let me go. Ever. 
And I never thought I would let her._

_Well, we know different now, don't we?_

I felt the same heat as I had then, and I couldn't help but 
instinctively glance at my arm, expecting to see the hand that 
caused the sensation. That momentary slip into past filled me 
with an uneasy chill. I downed my glass hoping it would warm me 
up, and reached for the bottle to re-fill it.

"If you haven't burned any bridges, what are you running from, 
why are you running away?"

"I'm not running away. I was looking for a place, and I believe I 
found it here."

"Your place is where a home is, where your heart is. And I see 
that your heart isn't in this place."

I didn't have to respond to that. I watched him take a sip from 
his glass, and then a long drag from his cigarette. He exhaled 
the smoke slowly, his expression contemplative. As if coming to a 
decision, he leaned closer with his elbows on the table, and 
asked, "Does the missing picture have something to do with all 
your anger?"

Sitting back, he continued. "I saw it the first time I was at 
your office. It was sticking out like a sore thumb among the 
pictures of that beach. A few weeks later, it wasn't there 
anymore. My guess is she hurt you."

Instead of answering his question, I chose to respond to his 
previous comment.

"It's not a matter of place or where home is or where your heart 
is. It's a question of time."

"You mean you're taking time-off until you decide to do whatever 
you want to do?"

"Nope. I'm not talking about time healing wounds. Time has no 
bearing, none at all on healing wounds."

What I had said, to a large degree, was true. Waiting for my 
wounds to heal played only so much in my decision to stay and 
work in this place. There was so little left inside me, I didn't 
know if any healing was possible. He pondered what I said, while 
I caught the ending notes of _Lady in Red_.

For some things, you could be late and miss the chance. For other 
things, you could be too early, as they hadn't ripened for 
picking. Timing was... is... of the essence. Always has been. I 
should know. It formed the most basic tenet of my training. In my 
case, I had been... a heartbeat too early... and too late... for 
_her_. The cost... I didn't want to think about the cost.

What's more I was scared of... living an eternity.

It sounds like an exaggeration or a complete fabrication, but it 
was neither. The point was brought home by the death of that 19 
year old student a week ago. He had been at the wrong place, at 
the wrong time, like I had been, once, several years ago. And 
yet, I had survived it. Maybe it was luck, but I had survived 
several scrapes since then. When I thought back to those times, 
_charmed_ didn't even come close to describe it--I'm not adding 
the last three years to all that, because nothing major happened, 
but somewhere along the way, the ball drops on the red instead of 
black, doesn't it? It just never happened!

I felt cursed with the Methuselah syndrome. Intellectually I knew 
that was impossible, and it was more like the ignorance of youth, 
talking with a big mouth. However, that never changed the way I 
felt about it. That didn't mean that I was completely unaware of 
my mortality. The point is, I wasn't overly concerned about it. I 
never understood that part about me. Was it because I was some 
kinda sociopath? But, sociopaths never felt anything. I felt... I 
feel, more than I care. No, I just wasn't obsessed about my 
mortality. Death came and claimed young and old without any 
discrimination. Here, in this place, it was part of daily 
reality, and I've just grown used to it. That was what it was. If 
I worried about it every waking moment, I wouldn't be able to 
function. So I ignored it. This place reminded me that I was 
alive, despite the emptiness inside me, which at times, made me 
feel like I was dead inside--perhaps, it was a subconscious need 
of affirmation... of my existence... that, I wasn't dead.

Did I care if something happened? Yeah. I did. I was careful. I 
never took risks. Was I suicidal? I didn't think so. I knew I 
didn't want to die.

_Not in this Goddamn place! And, not by the hands of a fucking 
sixteen year old toting an AK-47. Not when I still miss that 
beautiful beach and the sea!_

Since the very first day I discovered the sea, I was irresistibly 
drawn to it. Yet, I was here. Only rocks and sand and desert sun, 
desolate, empty of life. And water was life, where life sprung 
first.

"We are given a certain amount of time, and what we do with it is 
up to us. Sometimes, we miss chances, opportunities. It's no use 
crying over spilt milk; brood over past or worry about future. 
You have to be always in the moment and in the place. Not to miss 
life itself and what it offers to you," he said, taking me out of 
my reverie.

_Really? I guess, you're not a student of history, pops. History 
is what teaches us the lessons, so that they aren't repeated. 
History and past is what makes us, shapes us. I agree, there's no 
use to worry about future, except be prepared for any 
eventuality. And to your other point... Being in the moment... I 
think I know someth--_

Suddenly, my breath caught in my throat, when his words really 
percolated through my train of thought, reminding me of something 
else, forcing me to reconsider and reflect on what he said. I 
didn't agree with some of it, but still, I liked it, especially 
the last point. To my regret, I realized it left a sour taste. I 
just couldn't shake the feeling that up to now, all the offerings 
had been bitter, even though I knew better than that.

_Being in the moment... Is that the problem? Wasn't I in the 
moment? Why is that? Why couldn't I be in the moment? That's what 
I was supposed to have learned in my training. It was all about 
timing and being in the moment. Am I so lost to forget even the 
basics?_

I wanted to think about this, but I was getting agitated, and 
quickly downed my drink, re-filling and downing it again, letting 
the warmth spread. Slowly, I washed the taste with my Coke, and 
lit a cigarette. I took a second shot at the problem.

_Why was I not in the moment?_

I didn't have an answer.

_OK! Let's try something else. What did usually happen when I was 
in the moment?_

Every time I was in the moment... I collected detailed sensory 
data... sorting them, categorizing them, analyzing them, acting 
on them, and... I filed all that sensory input for later 
reference.

_Shiiittt! They made up all my... recollections. My memories!_

_Fuck!_

That's why my recall had always been so vivid. That's why some of 
the memories hurt so bad, as if it was the first time I 
experienced them. I didn't dare look at him. His last point 
sounded so simple at first, and I liked that simplicity, that's 
why I latched onto it. But, it was more than that. This wasn't a 
simple fatherly lecture about the challenges one faced in life. 
That short trip, as I worked around the idea, had been 
fascinating. My head was spinning with the implications.

_What kind of a path did you set me on, pops? What kinda ride are 
you taking me on?_

I pondered on that little bit I had worked out. In the end, most 
of it came in bits and pieces. There were gaps but...

_In a way, you're right, pops. This job is all I've got left. It 
kept me busy enough, so I didn't have to think about much, 
especially about the past. And, it kept me so physically tired 
that I could sleep at night._

I've known it all along. I just hadn't looked at it from that 
perspective. I didn't want to be in the moment, because it would 
add to the collection. And, I didn't want to have more painful 
memories in a growing list of recollections. I had more than I 
cared to carry around.

_If that's what you meant by being scared of living, perhaps you 
have a point you old grizzly bear. Perhaps, you have a point, 
after all._

I picked up the bottle and after checking his glass to find it 
half-empty, I topped it up, and filled mine. I had some stuff to 
think about, and I knew it would take time to find some more 
answers. Time, I had. Plenty.

_If nothing happens in the meantime!_

_I'll cross that bridge when the time comes!_

I felt relaxed. With a small smile--the first warm one, since the 
start of our conversation--I raised my glass.

"One last night-cap, pops?"

"Sure, sonny. Why the hell not?" he replied with a laugh.



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 2: Encounter and Requiem



"Sonny?"

I opened my eyes, blinking them to clear my vision.

"You better get a cup of coffee and a cigarette. This will take 
more time. I'll call when we're ready," said the driller.

_Yeah? Why didn't you say so? Like an hour and a half ago? All I 
heard was, "We'll be ready in ten minutes."_

It wasn't his fault. Sometimes, when something went wrong, it was 
followed by a flood of other problems. There's nothing you can do 
about that but deal with it. It just took time and effort, but 
when you've been on your feet for 30-something hours, even a 
minute delay seems like an hour. They had been busy with the 
high-pressure lines and the pumps for the last two hours. The 
pipes kept freezing or leaking. Then, one of the pumps broke a 
piston. We had a standby pump, but if something happened with 
that, we would be caught with our pants down. Not a good thing in 
the middle of a critical operation. By the time both pumps were 
checked and operational, the lines had frozen again. In the 
meantime, I had been standing in the cold, expecting to get on 
with the operation in the next ten minutes. I could have gotten 
at least a catnap. But, that's the way things went.

_You never know when Murphy would come for a visit!_

I chuckled at the thought. The strange sense of humor that was 
prevalent among the drilling bunch had grown on me from the first 
day I had stepped on a rig floor as a visiting student. And, I 
never lost it, even through my anger. I didn't feel like a 
chuckle let alone laugh--I was just too tired--but I could still 
appreciate the humor. Without that I wouldn't have lasted here 
this long. You can't run on empty or on anger only. I was dead 
tired. I just wanted to find a warm bed and crawl inside. Every 
joint was stiff from not moving and I was cold to my bones. It 
wasn't that cold, perhaps -8 C, but the lack of sleep, and the 
tiredness took its toll. I didn't think a cup of coffee or a 
cigarette would help. I've been going on that for the last seven 
hours, taking ten minute breaks every two hours or so. I just 
needed the sleep.

Instead of answering, I nodded, and tried to loosen my muscles. 
That done, I took a couple of tentative steps to test my legs. I 
had been leaning back against a wooden panel with my knees locked 
stiff and trying to sleep on my feet. Well, you wouldn't call it 
a sleep. I was resting my eyes, and had been following the 
progress with my ears; listening to the banging of hammers, and 
yelling and shouting. I walked down the stairs, and headed to the 
kitchen. Once inside, I grabbed a couple of chocolate bars from 
the fridge and a jar of honey. I needed some sugar. Filling up a 
large mug with coffee, I added five large spoonfuls of honey, 
stirring the mix. That was a trick I learned from the German 
driller. I used to dump 10-15 lumps of sugar to my coffee. I was 
young enough not to feel the effects of too much sugar, but it 
wasn't a healthy thing to do--young or old. Honey was a much 
better replacement. However, that was my only concession. 
Chocolate bars were non-negotiable, when I didn't have something 
to eat. If I hadn't forgotten to arrange some egg sandwiches and 
soup with the cook for the late night operation, I wouldn't have 
to settle for chocolate bars.

Back at my office cabin, I ate the bars, chasing them with the 
coffee, and lit a cigarette, keeping an eye on the rig floor from 
the open door. A few minutes later, I was feeling much better. 
The chair looked inviting, but if I sat, I wasn't sure I would be 
able to get back on my feet--not even with the assistance of a 
forklift--so, I kept pacing the small space. By the time I 
finished my coffee and half way through my second cigarette, 
there was a sharp whistle. When I looked at the rig floor, I saw 
the driller signing me, "We're ready!" Putting out my cigarette, 
I left the cabin, and headed for the rig floor at a brisk pace.

_Here we go. Come on, Murphy! Why don't you take a fucking hike 
and let us get on with it?_



* * * * *



Two and half hours later, I was sitting in my office. The casings 
were in place and cemented, and the crew was busy making the 
preparations for drilling the next hole section. There was some 
more work to do, such as changing the blow out preventers, and 
slipping and cutting the drilling line, and preparing the new 
mud, while waiting on cement to set. All I had to do was type in 
my report and fax it to the office. Easier said than done. I 
could hardly see the characters on the little five inch orange 
screen of the IBM portable. With a sigh, I put on my glasses and 
started to peck at the keyboard. Half hour later the information 
was saved and printed out. I checked my watch and was surprised 
to find it was already 5:30. Just then, the driller walked in.

"Shit son, why do you keep your door open? It's cold in here," he 
said.

I always kept the door open and the heater off when we had a 
night operation going on. Otherwise, I had to take off my jacket 
and the thermal coveralls every time I stepped inside--pain in 
the neck. What's more, it was easy to catch cold if you moved 
between cold and warm frequently. Besides, cold kept me awake 
when I was tired.

"Trying to stay awake, chief," I said tiredly.

"Report ready?"

"Yep."

"You look like hell, son. Catch some shut eye," he said taking 
the printout.

That was a nice idea, but not practical. In two hours time I 
would be on the phone, talking to the Operations guy back in 
town, going over the morning report. I was starting to feel perky 
again. That's what usually happened when I reached a threshold 
with all that coffee, sugar and nicotine. However, in a few hours 
time, I would be down--and I mean, really down. But, that was OK. 
I could catch 4-5 hours sleep, do the handover to my counterpart 
who will be arriving around lunch time, and then hit the road. I 
had a flight back home late in the afternoon. There was nothing 
special going on until late evening, when they would start 
drilling again, so my counterpart would have no trouble picking 
up where I left off.

"Later, chief. I just need some coffee, and a smoke. I can sleep 
after the report."

He gave me a disapproving look. "You're going to run yourself 
into the ground, kid, if you keep that up."

"Well, I know somebody who can scrape me off the floor," I 
quipped with a grin.

"Where is the fun in that? I'd rather wait until the rig move, 
and drink you under the table," he retorted.

That had been couple of months ago, when we were both off-duty 
during a rig move. It had been good. No, it had been better than 
what happened a year ago, when we had had our first encounter. 
After that little episode, things improved, and we had developed 
a certain rapport. I still kept to myself most of the time, and 
we weren't close, but there was a rapport. A few months ago, 
during another rig move, we didn't have to parry, and just went 
straight for the bottle. It had been fun, both of us letting off 
some steam, and trying to relax, taking some time off from the 
demands of the work, and other responsibilities. In the end, I 
had to concede defeat, before I lost my mobility to make my way 
back to the bed on my own. Back in the cabin, I had taken a few 
aspirins and chased them with four big glasses of water, so that 
next morning I wouldn't feel like a dish-rag. It had helped, but 
not much. I had to wear my shades all day long to keep the 
blaring sun away, and he would snicker every time he saw me 
rubbing my temples.

"Shit, pops! You know how to hurt a guy."

Despite my response, I was looking for a repeat of the drinking 
bout. It had been a nice diversion.

"Well, if you get your head out of your ass, and keep to your 
lessons, you wouldn't give me the opportunity, would you?"

"Ouch!"

"Come on, let's get a cup. It's freezing in here."

"I'll be right behind you, chief. I want to get rid off the 
thermals," I replied, standing up.

His office was usually very warm. After he left, I changed into 
jeans and a shirt, and checked the thermostat in the bedroom to 
make sure it wasn't too cold or hot. I wanted to have a decent 
four hours sleep at the minimum. I set the heater in the office 
as well, and closing the door, I went to his office. While he was 
busy with his paperwork, I quickly updated my handover notes for 
my counterpart, and then we faxed our respective reports to our 
offices.

"When is your flight?" he asked, as he took a sip from his cup, 
relaxing in his chair.

"Late in the afternoon."

"Going to your parents?"

"Yeah, for a few days, and then I'll pick up my car and hit the 
road."

"Somewhere nice?"

"I don't know. Somewhere along the coast I guess," I said, my 
thoughts going to that beach.

_I might drop by there for a few days. It will be empty, with 
only a few year-round residents. I want to see it again. I want 
to know if it's still there for me._

I realized--and not the first time--I had mixed feelings when I 
thought about that beach, _my_ beach. I had always believed that 
it would be there for me, but sometimes, there was an uncertainty 
associated with that belief, making me uneasy, however much I 
tried to ignore it. I had too many good memories in that place, 
and at times, when uncertainty crept in, I was scared I would 
lose one of my anchors--perhaps my only anchor. It was time to 
put the theory to test, and know for sure if that beach was still 
my beach. I also wanted to check out a few towns along the coast, 
where they had good bars, and perhaps, some chicks getting away 
from the big cities for the weekend or some tourists. In some of 
those places, there were always tourists, summer or winter, and 
it wasn't winter yet, _just_ mid-October. Here in this place, it 
was getting below zero at night, but day-time it was a 
comfortable mid to upper 20s. It would be slightly milder in the 
west coast, where my beach was located.

_If it's too cold for my taste I can always drive down to 
somewhere along the south coast. It's always warm there._

"When are you heading to town?"

"Around two. Depends on when the other guy arrives. I need to go 
over a few things with him."

"You ain't sitting in the office until your flight, are you?"

_Heh! You know me well, pops!_

"Nope. I want to get a haircut, and get this wild growth on my 
face trimmed. Then, some shopping for Sis; a nice silver 
necklace."

He nodded in agreement. "They have some good stuff in the town. I 
bought a pair of gold earrings for my daughter." After a slight 
hesitation, he asked, "Any reason silver?"

"She likes antique looking stuff, plus when she tans, she really 
has a tan, so the silver looks much better."

"Strange girl. Most women would go for gold."

I laughed. "Yeah, I know. But, she already has enough of that, 
and doesn't wear it much. We went shopping the last time I was 
back home, and I saw her look at silver necklaces. They weren't 
as good as what they have here, handcrafted, so I stopped her 
from buying it."

"She's also patient enough to wait," he quipped.

"Well... It's not the same thing if she buys it herself, or 
receives a gift from her brother, is it?" I retorted.

"You have a point there," he chuckled. "So, she knows you'll be 
bringing a gift."

"She's not really expecting something, but you know how women 
are. I think she sensed what I was planning."

He let out a groan. "Tell me about it! It gets worse when you're 
married. In a few years, they get to know everything."

We carefully avoided my parents as a subject matter. It wasn't 
because it was a sore point. He just knew I didn't like to talk 
about them, and he had seen the change--the telephone calls--it 
had gotten better. I had gone back home at the first opportunity 
last year. They had tried, but when I didn't respond, and refused 
to be drawn into any discussion, they eased up. After a few days 
of subtle prodding, they stopped all together. It hadn't been 
easy; for any of us. But, I guess they sensed the distance that 
was growing between us, and realized they were running the risk 
of pushing me away. I should have done that long ago, but I had 
too much respect for them, and didn't want to hurt their feelings 
at the time. This time, I just gave them the cold shoulder when 
they got insistent. It was better than a full confrontation, and 
that was the end of it. Over time, the uneasy peace turned into 
comfortable coexistence. I guess they had seen the subtle changes 
in me. At least, they could see that I wasn't so sullen, or my 
anger and hurt wasn't as obvious as before, and I kept visiting 
them more often despite my frequent travels to various places. I 
did a lot of sight seeing, and told them about the places I had 
been to, and they probably realized I was starting to enjoy life 
to a degree. They still worried about what might happen, here, 
but there wasn't much any of us could do about that. To have some 
peace at the home front helped a lot; I didn't have to be 
preoccupied with what was going on there all the time.

By the time our conversation came to an end, the sky was lighting 
up. I stepped out for half an hour to watch the horizon change 
color. That was one of the rare things I enjoyed. How the dim 
stars slowly disappeared from view, as the dark mass took on a 
lighter hue, the distant end looking like somebody lit a slow 
burning fire. First a pinkish tint, that slowly turned red, and 
the few clouds changing from orange to a translucent silver 
color, to eventually white, before the sun showed its face. The 
ground was still hard. It would take several hours before it 
would heat up and soften. I could almost hear the soft groan--the 
sky finally waking up from its deep sleep. I just let the 
feelings wash over me, as if floating somewhere beyond the 
horizon, getting warmed up, even though it was below zero as I 
stood in front of the cabin, without a jacket. I didn't stay long 
though. Once the sun was up, my sleepy eyes would start to hurt, 
and I knew I would hardly be able to keep them open.

When I stepped in the cabin, it was time for the morning report. 
The telephone wasn't working. Damn! We had to use the radio. At 
least, we had the reports faxed before the telephone quit on us. 
Sometimes that happened. Either the relay stations had problems, 
or our microwave antenna failed. When that happened, it was a 
pain in the neck to dictate the report over the radio, and then 
we still had to go through the details.

"You better go first, son. You need to get some sleep," he said.

"Thanks, chief," I said. Then, I saw the opportunity to get back 
at him, and with a wicked smile, I asked, "You sure you don't 
mind sloppy seconds?"

He let out a long, rumbling laugh, shaking his head. "The coffee 
must have helped more than I thought. You've been hanging with us 
too long, son. Save that energy for your vacation and the chicks, 
will you?"

The drilling bunch was a bawdy group. There were rarely any women 
around, so the jokes were always off-color, if not downright 
dirty. I guess it was no different than any other industry where 
women were a rarity.

"Whatever you say, pops. I'll be good," I retorted.

"I don't doubt that; just don't do anything I wouldn't do," he 
replied with a knowing grin.

He had once told me a story about one of the guys he had in his 
crew. An electrician, about 20-21, and recently married, working 
a schedule of four weeks on and four weeks off. After two tours 
of duty, the electrician requested his tour to be shifted a week-
-before or after his current schedule. When he was asked the 
reason, the guy couldn't give a satisfactory answer, so Pops had 
refused the request. After another tour, the electrician had made 
the same request. After a lot of prodding and pushing, the 
electrician explained his _little_ problem--with a lot of 
embarrassment. Every time he got back home, his wife was having 
her--well, I don't have to spell it out, do I? You get the idea--
It was funny as hell, but Pops understood the situation, and 
granted the request, making the young man a very happy man. When 
he had told the story, I was on the floor, laughing my ass off. 
With a chuckle, he gently admonished me; "Yeah, son. It sounds 
funny as hell, but not when you're on the receiving end of it... 
or not receiving, as the case might be... so, keep that in mind."

_Yep! It's an interesting mix of people and stories. There's 
always something, and that's what I like about this work and the 
people._

Before I could call the office, we heard the Ops guy calling us 
on the radio, so I took the mike, and replied. After covering the 
major points, he started to ask questions about the delays. After 
I explained the problems, he kept on it, mostly about the length 
of downtime. I got the feeling he was trying to blame the 
drilling contractor, and that was starting to piss me off.

_What part of frozen lines, broken piston don't you get? You've 
been on the rigs, waiting for repairs, because something is 
broken or something is frozen. It takes time to fix it. This 
isn't a lab where everybody works in lab coats, where everything 
is clean, and you have heating and air conditioning. I had to 
wait in the fucking cold, so don't tell me it's a long delay, 
sitting at your comfortable chair._

The last was a result of resentment rather than envy. I would 
have been the first to accuse the drilling contractor if I 
thought they were screwing around, since I was at the receiving 
end of the delays. He had no idea. In a way that was normal. The 
Ops guys--I was ostensibly an Ops guy, but had started to think 
and act more like a drilling guy--didn't really get involved with 
the tiny details about how a rig runs. They--well... we--were 
responsible for the technical side, the engineering calculations, 
and looking at the overall picture, and making decisions on the 
problems, and going over the operational steps, discussing them 
with the drilling contractor. The driller then went over the 
operational steps, and took care of the micro-details of each 
operational step. Ops guys were not involved in micromanagement 
such as ordering oil for the engines. That was the responsibility 
of the drilling contractor.

The point is I had gotten involved in the hands-on side of it 
more than I was supposed to be. About eight months ago, there had 
been a labor dispute. The crews went on a slow down. Each shift 
was missing a few guys--sick. Sometimes there were only one or 
two guys showing up for their shift. All the other personnel--the 
foreigners--that were assigned to the rig (like mechanics, 
electricians, etc) took on additional workload. I, on the other 
hand, didn't have much to do. First, because I wasn't qualified 
for doing anything on the rig floor, and the only help I could 
lend was dumping sacks of chemicals while preparing the drilling 
mud, measuring the pipes, and other simple manual labor. Another 
major problem was my contract. It didn't cover the other work and 
that meant I didn't have any insurance coverage in case I had an 
accident. I was covered in case some accident happened, but my 
insurance would be void if I did something like operating 
equipment, or working with the equipment on the rig floor for 
which I wasn't qualified. I was willing to learn and do the work 
on the rig floor. However I wasn't going to risk it. Rig floor 
work looks simple; just heavy labor, but it's potentially 
dangerous, especially for a rank beginner. I knew that.

It was obvious that they could use an extra hand, so I had a 
quick discussion with my boss, and suggested they make an 
addendum to my contract for additional work (for which I retained 
the sole right to refuse anytime I chose to do so) with specific 
insurance and disability coverage. I wasn't going to let the 
Company use those additional work clauses to take advantage of me 
at a later date... especially if I ever had to take a position 
against the company for one reason or another. Later, I heard 
that some people didn't like that clause--me retaining the sole 
right to refuse the particular work added to my contract. Heh! 
Tough shit! I didn't have to offer the help I was offering. 
Instead of saying "Thank you," they were whining. It was probably 
the few assholes in the management--I had stepped on some toes 
several times--and the Legal Department. _Pricks_! A couple 
months after the labor dispute was resolved, I had gotten an 
extra check and a "Thank you," and I think the drilling 
contractor, and my boss might have had a hand in that. But, my 
offer had been attractive. I didn't demand extra pay or anything 
else; I just wanted to have proper coverage for any unfortunate 
eventuality. A few phone calls and faxes between the office and 
the family lawyer, and everything was settled. I worked on the 
rig floor, I worked on the pumps, I helped the rig mechanic and 
the electrician. Basically, I did a lot of the manual work that 
the crews did, getting my hands dirty, and I enjoyed it. Thus, I 
had a different view of things, and developed an appreciation of 
what was really going on. I didn't know everything, but I was 
very much interested in learning. I would never break speed 
records for changing gaskets, or driving a forklift, or handling 
other equipment, but I had done all those things, and more.

I was almost tempted to give the Ops guy a snappy reply, before I 
realized we were on the radio. Just then, the driller tapped me 
on my arm. I shook my head indicating that I wasn't going to do 
anything rash, and he nodded his understanding. In my tired 
state, my patience was wearing thin, and he had noticed that.

_You're a good man, pops. Every other rig in the vicinity that 
tuned into the frequency for their morning report are listening 
in! It would have been rather tacky to let the whole world hear 
the exchange. If we were on the phone... well, that would have 
been something else._

Taking a deep breath, I told him I would be in town in the 
afternoon, and suggested we go over the questions then. I 
followed it with a remark about not wanting to tie up the radio 
traffic discussing a non-critical item. Basically, I was telling 
him to quit nitpicking and move onto something important, like 
getting the reports from other rigs--in a polite manner. He got 
the hint, and since we had covered everything else, he signed 
off, and called up another rig.

"Sorry, chief. I almost blew my top," I said.

"It happens. I don't think it would have been that bad, just 
embarrassing for him. You don't go out of your way to embarrass 
people in public. You're tired, but still managed to remember 
that you were on the radio."

"Yeah, but thanks anyway. And I'll be patient with him when I go 
over the stuff."

"You do that, sonny. Maybe next time they'll be more 
appreciative, and won't start nit-picking."

"I hope so. Some of them think they aren't doing their job if 
they don't ask questions or try to make a point. It gets worse on 
the radio. Once, I had a real prima-donna on the radio."

He nodded with a tired but knowing grin. He had had his share of 
the same people. "I know what you mean. You give it a try in 
private and see if he gets it. Some do, and some don't. When 
you're working in the office, don't forget the field people and 
this experience."

"I don't want to work in the office. But, if I did end up there, 
do you think I would forget?"

"It's a matter of time and keeping in touch with the field hands. 
I doubt you'll forget it, after all you've seen and done, but it 
happens to the best of them."

Yep. More often than not, that was what happened. People forgot 
how it used to be in the field, once they moved to the office. 
The good ones kept visiting the field, and tried not to lose 
touch.

He was busy switching to another frequency to call his office to 
give his report.

"Well, I'm outta here. I'll grab a bite and then it's nap time. 
See you 'round lunch," I said, before leaving the cabin.

The first business of the day was to grab a quick shower. Next, 
the dining room. When I walked in, the cook was busy in the 
kitchen making some eggs and pancakes.

After the usual pleasantries, he asked, "Pancakes with honey?"

_God, no! I don't want any more sugar._

"Nope, just scrambled eggs and sausages. You don't have soup by 
any chance, do you?"

"So, you were the one who raided the fridge, last night?" he 
asked. Every time I raided his kitchen at night, the next morning 
I asked the same question, "Do you have any soup?"

"Yeah. Sorry. I had forgotten to ask for sandwiches and soup last 
night."

"Why didn't you check the dinner cabin? There was some cake, and 
rice pudding in the small fridge. Better than those chocolate 
bars."

_Damn! I didn't think of that. Rice pudding. That would have been 
great._

"What's for lunch?" I asked, as if I didn't know, receiving an 
annoyed look. It usually was steak with potatoes and some 
vegetables. There wasn't much variation. Sometimes he made an 
Irish stew or hot curry, but it was always meat. Well, that was 
to be expected, with a drilling crew. The night shift personnel 
usually had their dinner in the morning, so it was steak, fries 
and fried onions. I had that several times, too, when I had to 
work night and the following day, but it's not something I was 
used to. When you start working late at night and have to 
continue during the day, it was normal to have dinner instead of 
a light breakfast in the morning. I rushed through my breakfast 
and 20 minutes later, I was having a cup of tea. I didn't eat 
much, but that little bit of food eased my hunger, and I was 
getting sleepy.

_Time to hit the sack._



* * * * *



When the alarm clock went off, I barely managed to get myself out 
of bed. A cold shower did help, but I was still groggy. The short 
sleep wasn't enough, I could have gone on for an additional ten 
hours.

_Well, tonight, I could and would sleep better._

For the first three years, I was constantly fighting the memories 
and dreams, especially when I wasn't tired enough to fall asleep. 
Sometimes, I would stay up much of the night, reading or doing 
some paper work or studying. Night operations helped. I could 
catch on my sleep with short naps during the day. The last year, 
it was better. Most of the time I could sleep, but it was uneasy, 
mostly due to the fact that I would be listening to the heartbeat 
of the rig.

A lot of the drilling people suffer from that. Your brain 
recognizes a distinct pattern of sound that defines the 
activities that are taking place outside your cabin. After a 
while, these patterns are filed and catalogued, so you know what 
each means in your subconscious. If the pattern changed, it 
usually indicated a problem. When you're sleeping, your brain is 
still aware of what's going on, and notices the changes in the 
sounds, and wakes you up. Most often than not, a few minutes 
later, you'll hear the knock on the door. Problem! That also acts 
as a positive feedback loop, firming up the conditioning. The 
most distinct pattern is when everything suddenly goes quiet when 
you expect the regular squeak of the brake while drilling. Those 
are the times every driller and engineer hates. If you wake up to 
that, you better get your ass out of the bed, and start getting 
dressed. Mr. Murphy and a bunch of his relatives are probably 
paying an unscheduled visit that will turn your night into 
something of a major hell. No need to wait for somebody to knock 
on the door. The whole experience was Pavlovian, and 
unfortunately, it made for a restless sleep. I guess the only 
time I had a good sleep on the rig-site was when I was tired and 
dead to the world.

After the shower, I packed my suitcase, and stored my rig related 
paraphernalia (boots, coverall, thermals, etc) in the closet. I 
caught my counterpart at lunch, and gave him a quick summary of 
what had been done, and what was coming next while we ate. Back 
in the office, I gave him the handover notes, and answered his 
questions. Then we went over the well program and the progress 
made until now. There wasn't much. He just had to read the 
reports of the past few days, and he had plenty of time to go 
over them before they commenced drilling later in the night. The 
next few days they would be drilling, so basically he was ready, 
and I was ready to go to town to catch my flight.

After putting my suitcase in the car, I did my rounds to say 
goodbye to the people, and hit the road to the accompaniment of 
Chris Rea on the stereo. As he was singing _Looking for the 
Summer_ my mind was busy with my vacation plans, which route to 
take, what towns to check out and so on. I was planning to spend 
most of my time in the south coast, after listening to the 
weather forecast, with a short visit to the west coast to visit 
my beach. As I had expected there was quite a bit of temperature 
difference between the two coasts.

_It will be a welcome difference to drive along the coast. On one 
side the Mediterranean, and on the other side the mountains, the 
air filled with the smell of pine trees. After the dust and sandy 
roads here, and the desolate scenery, finally I will see 
something nice._



* * * * *



Back in town, I went to the town center, and checked out the 
jewelry stores. In one shop, I finally found what I was looking 
for. Instead of silver, I ended up buying a platinum plated 
necklace, handcrafted with a very delicate design. It looked 
great, and I hoped my sis would like it as well. My next stop was 
the barber shop. I got my hair cut, and my beard and mustache 
trimmed. When I looked at the mirror, I had the shock of my life. 
Around my temples there was a distinct grey and white strip. With 
the long hair I hadn't noticed it, but when the hair was cut 
short...

_Jeeez. When did that happen? I'm just 25. My dad had his gray 
hair when he was 37. Shit! Mom and Sis will definitely notice 
it._

I looked five if not ten years older than I was, especially with 
the beard and mustache. I thought about getting it shaved off, 
but that would have looked ridiculous with all the suntan I had. 
My eyes were bloodshot, and sunken from lack of sleep. I hate to 
admit it, but I looked bad. On the way to the office I 
contemplated postponing my flight, and getting a goodnight's 
sleep, before going back home to see my parents. But in the end, 
I just didn't want to waste my time here. I missed good home 
cooking--_All right!_ I miss Sis, and the folks back home as 
well--and I wanted to get on with the program, and have my 
vacation.

When I walked into the office, the secretary gave me a strange 
look. I knew what she was thinking after I had had a good look at 
myself on the mirror.

_Don't say a word!_

"You look... umm... tired. Was it that bad?" she asked.

_Heh! . I look tired? Understatement of the year... Lady, I look 
like shit!_

I felt like that as well. I was running on pure nerves, and the 
excitement of getting the hell out of here.

"It got busy frequently, and I had only four hours rest in the 
last 37 hours or so," I replied, trying to form a smile. I don't 
know if I pulled off a smile or a grimace.

"I better get you a cup of coffee. You look like you could do 
with one," she said with a sympathetic smile.

"Ah, thanks, but no coffee please. If there's tea or something 
cold, that's OK."

Few minutes later, she returned with a big mug of tea. We chatted 
for a short while and she gave me my tickets. That done, I went 
looking for the Ops guy, to go over the stuff he wanted to 
discuss. It didn't take long to cover the various points, and I 
explained the problems patiently without getting sarcastic. 
However, I hinted that he wasn't there in the office to nitpick, 
but deal with serious problems and give us technical support. I 
don't know if he got it, but I was hopeful. I handed over the 
electronic copies of the files on diskettes, so they could keep 
their computers updated with the information. Unfortunately, the 
com lines were not reliable to do it via modem, so every time 
somebody was heading to the town, they would have copies of files 
from our computer on the rig-site on diskettes, and drop them at 
the office.

He offered to drive me to the airport for my flight, and I 
accepted.



* * * * *



The waiting room at the airport wasn't crowded. It was a mid-
week, late afternoon flight, so that was normal. This was a small 
airport, with two strips, and the airplane was parked some 
distance away from the gates, with the fuel truck next to it.

I was starting to have a queasy feeling in my stomach, which was 
strange. I enjoyed flying and I wasn't afraid of air travel. At 
first, I thought something I had eaten was giving me the problem, 
but that wasn't it. This was more like a signal, a quiet alarm 
bell going off--little flutters in my stomach. I tried to figure 
out what exactly was causing the signals. The more I tried, the 
more evasive it got. I was giving serious consideration to 
skipping the flight, thinking perhaps, I shouldn't be on a plane 
that might... but that didn't help.

I let my mind wander instead of listening to what my body was 
trying to tell me, so I could take an indirect peek, and 
understand the nature of the signals, and the possible cause of 
them. After a few deep breaths, and loosening my muscles, I 
managed to get a better read. It was only little flutters in my 
belly, as if expecting a surprise. I didn't have the muscle 
ticks, or the tingling at the back of my neck, or the ants 
crawling on my spine. There wasn't a sense of unease, and I 
didn't have the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that 
told me something wasn't right. It wasn't a danger signal, just a 
small blip; sort of an expectation for something to happen--like 
a premonition.

That piqued my curiosity, but I couldn't figure out what the 
surprise might be. Every time I took a look at the airplane, my 
heart was skipping a beat, and that was strange. If there was 
going to be an accident, I would have the danger signals. My body 
was telling me, there was no danger. I had come to trust my 
instincts on those matters, as they had served me well countless 
times before. While I was busy trying to figure out this puzzle, 
they called the flight, and people started to head for the apron 
through the open doors.

As I made my way to the plane, behind the other passengers, the 
flutters increased in frequency, and that gave me a pause, so I 
slowed down my pace.

_There's something in that plane! What can it be?_

_What's usually in the plane?_

_The cleaning crew already left, so... the pilots... the flight 
crew..._

_Flight crew? Flight attendants..._

_Shiit! No... can it be?_

The last I remembered, she was a flight attendant and flying the 
international routes. She could be on a domestic flight, but...

_This isn't even a major domestic route. That can't be..._

As soon as I had hit on the thought, my flutters were replaced by 
a tugging feeling. As I slowed my pace further, I went to 
overdrive, checking everything I felt.

_Yeah. It feels like she's here! There's no mistaking that. I 
know this feeling._

I knew this feeling... spinning out of control... the tug... the 
pull... every time she had been around... ever since that very 
first moment I had seen her... it had been there... always... I 
had felt that in my belly... even when my heart ignored the 
pull...

_Jesus! Out of hundreds of flights, among major domestic routes, 
could she be on this minor route, on this particular flight? What 
are the chances of that? Why? Why now?_

I faltered. There were still some people walking ahead of me, and 
some on the stairs boarding the plane. I stopped, and taking off 
my shades, spent a few minutes cleaning them with the hem of my 
shirt, while trying to calm myself. If she was there, I didn't 
want to face her without being ready in some way. I went through 
my routine to center myself. While taking deep breaths, I 
imagined the beach.

_Stepping into the water, and feeling the cold on my ankles. My 
feet trying to get a good purchase on the soft sandy floor, 
becoming anchors. Sinking, sinking into the ground. The tug of 
water. Moving with the water. Fluid, swaying. The waves wetting 
the rolled up legs of my jeans. My jeans getting heavy, pulling 
on my hips. Feeling each wave tug at my hips. Sinking more to the 
ground. Catching the rhythm of the waves. Matching my breath to 
each pull and push. Empty and full. Deep in the belly. Pull and 
push. The fluid motion of water. The great mass behind it. Deep 
in the belly. The power in the mass. Absorbing and filling it 
inside my belly. Calm. Becoming one with the water. Calm. 
Becoming the sea. I am the water._

The flutters in my stomach ceased, being replaced with a warm 
feeling of energy. I resumed my walk with sure steps, feeling 
connected to the ground in some inexplicable manner.

_I hope she is not he--_

_Why am I lying to myself? I-I... I missed her. I still miss 
her._

That admission filled me with unease, and I felt the tug that I 
had always felt when she was around me, like the oceans felt the 
pull of the moon, like the tidal waves. It was there, and was 
getting urgent, insistent, threatening to overcome the calm and 
peace. It was very distracting.

_I guess it's been too long._

There was a certain comfort even in the chaos it caused in me, 
perhaps a comfort born out of familiarity. Worse, there was the 
longing; the longing to be sucked into the crazy maelstrom, 
swirling and spinning uncontrolled, letting go of all control. It 
had always been such a dichotomy: my struggle for control, and 
the influence she exerted on me, pulling me into chaos. How she 
felt in my arms, the feel of her body, her hot juncture pressed 
against my leg as we danced. Her fingers busy at my neck, with my 
hair, as we kissed. And how she had exerted the same pull without 
a touch, as if we were connected by an invisible cord. I had 
never been able to fend off her influence successfully. After all 
this time, those feelings were rising to the surface, trying to 
answer the call of the _Siren's Song_.

_God, it's been long... so long since I've felt this... I missed 
it... but she couldn't be here, could she? And, I'm so tired. I 
don't know if I could handle it. I've never been able to. Will it 
be any different this time?_

When I stepped inside the plane, I saw the first flight 
attendant, standing by the galley. There was another on my left 
towards the pilot's cabin. Taking off my shades, I turned right 
towards the passenger cabin. About mid-way, another flight 
attendant was busy with the overhead compartment, picking up a 
pillow for a passenger.

_There she is!_

For a moment I considered putting my shades back on, but decided 
against it.

_Why hide behind anything... we never had to before... did we?_

She hadn't seen me yet, as I made my way looking for my seat. A 
quick scan revealed that the plane was more than half empty, with 
most of the passengers in their seats in the front half, except a 
few who were busy placing their briefcases, personal belongings 
to the overboard compartments. As I neared her, she finished 
helping the passenger, and straightened up, turning to face the 
corridor to help the remaining passengers.

That's when our eyes met.

_She's changed. Why did she cut her hair? Short hair doesn't suit 
her. She... she looks old and... tired. Too much make up... She 
never used so much make up before..._

At first, she was surprised to see me there, standing and looking 
at her. Suddenly her face lit up with a smile--as if she was 
genuinely pleased to see me.

"What a pleasant surprise!" she said.

_Is it?_

"Hi," I said, not able to respond in any other way, even though I 
had prepared myself to face her. That warm smile, the look in her 
eyes, and the melodic sound of her voice cut through my carefully 
erected defenses. For a brief moment I wondered if that's how it 
felt when you were cut with a katana--at first no pain, then an 
intense searing heat that overtook all other senses.

"You look tired. Let's get you comfortable," she said, while 
leading me to the seats towards the very back of the cabin, away 
from all the other passengers.

I could see several heads turn in our direction, their eyes 
following us, wondering about the treatment I was getting from 
this pretty flight attendant, but I was too busy trying to 
collect myself to be concerned about such things.

She showed me to one of the seats, and leaning, she asked, "Once 
we take off, I have to help the others with the service. Do you 
need anything until then?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you. It's... it's nice to see you."

"It is nice to see you, too. Get comfortable. After the service 
is finished, we can chat... It's been too long," she said with 
another warm smile, before leaving me to help her colleagues with 
pre-flight preparations.

I found myself watching her departure. The almost sinuous quality 
to her moves in whatever she did, reminding me of things I didn't 
want to think about. I was losing the battle I had been fighting, 
and already felt as if I was falling into a deep abyss, pulled by 
invisible strings. The timing couldn't have been worse, when I 
was so tired. Now, this unexpected encounter was threatening me, 
and what little I had accomplished in fighting my past. I was 
hanging onto the last reserves inside me to keep myself centered, 
but it was a slippery and treacherous slope. As soon as I tried 
to recall that beach and the sea, other images started to force 
themselves in, breaking my concentration. The scenes when she was 
part of the beach, and of me... I picked the airline magazine, 
knowing I would not read a single word or pay attention to even 
the pictures. Once we were airborne, the in-flight service 
started and--since the plane was half-empty--it was over a half 
hour later.

Her colleagues took the two seats at the very back of the cabin, 
just few rows behind me, and I saw her making her way to me. She 
motioned me to take the window seat, and then moved into my seat.

_She's still beautiful... her smile is still warm as her eyes... 
how could she? Is this an act? And, she looks tired and old... 
older than her 23 years... Where did that 19 year old girl go?_

I didn't even try to give a comforting grin. I was just too 
confused. She gave me a long, inquisitive look, and hesitated 
before speaking up.

"Are you... are you angry at me?" she asked hesitantly.

_Angry... at you? Why should I be angry? Do I look angry?_

_Maybe I do... I'm used to being left alone, so I don't notice 
it. But perhaps, that's what people think or see... an angry 
young man. As your friends once said... angriest of all the angry 
young men... Yeah, I was angry at the time... angry at you, maybe 
a bit... but mostly angry at myself._

"You _are_ angry at me!" she said.

I had taken too long to reply, and she had drawn her conclusion. 
I wasn't angry at her, but didn't know how to tell her or make 
her see it.

"Do you remember how you trusted me? You know I never told you a 
lie..." I said.

She nodded.

"Then, please trust me when I say I'm not angry with you or at 
you. There was a time, I was angry at you... a very short time... 
but I wasn't really angry at you, and I'm not now... It's 
just..." I said. Then with a tired sigh, I gave up, "It's 
difficult to explain."

She spent a few minutes mulling it over in her mind, thinking 
about what I said and not said, but her eyes never left my face a 
moment.

"You've changed... changed a lot," she said, softly, her voice 
tinged with something I couldn't put my finger on... something 
like sadness, but not exactly.

_As you did, baby girl... as you did, apparently. Where is that 
carefree laughter, those bright eyes? The wild 19 year old? You 
look older than your years. Why? It was only a few years ago... 
four and a half years to be precise._

"You've not changed much. You've cut your hair," I replied.

"It's easier to keep. So, you are going home now?"

"Not really. Just a few days visiting parents and Sis, and then 
I'll take a vacation."

"Isn't it a bit late for vacation? It's mid October."

"I work an unusual schedule. A couple of weeks work, couple of 
weeks off. So you could say I work only half the year... 
roughly."

"It must be nice... but also tiring, if they allow so much time 
off," she said giving me a critical look.

"You don't have to mince words. I know how I look at the 
moment... Yes, it can get tiring at times," I replied.

_But I like to be tired... I like to be busy... It helped... It 
helps... most of the time._

"Ummm... don't have much time left. This is a short flight, so I 
need to get back to work. I have about an hour till my next 
flight. Would you like to catch a cup of coffee with me when we 
land?" she asked.

I grimaced at the thought of coffee.

_I don't want to hear about coffee. I had enough coffee to last 
me a lifetime!_

She must have taken my expression the wrong way, because she 
hastily added, "Unless you have other plans..."

"No, I don't have any plans. I was thinking about coffee. I think 
I had more than enough coffee the last few days," I said with a 
small smile.

"Oh!"

"I'd love to join you for a drink."

"OK. I'll catch you at the baggage claim area then," and with 
that she stood up and joined her colleagues who were getting 
ready for the last minute checks on passengers. Just then, the 
pilot announced that we would be landing in ten minutes.



* * * * *



Twenty minutes later, I was waiting for my suitcase at the 
baggage claim area when she showed up, pulling a small overnight 
bag on rollers. We waited for my suitcase to appear on the 
baggage carousel, both of us lost in thought. It wasn't uneasy, 
but it wasn't comfortable either. After an eternity of waiting, I 
had my suitcase, and we made our way to one of the 
cafeteria/bars, and found an empty table.

Even though I had had enough of it, I ordered coffee, which 
brought an amused smile and a raised eyebrow from her.

"One more or less won't hurt anymore than it already had," I 
said, shrugging my shoulders.

For a split second, her eyes tightened, and she froze, and with 
an effort she recovered herself. I didn't understand her reaction 
at all. Why would she react like that?

"Did I say something wrong?" I asked her.

My mind was running a hundred miles an hour, going over the scene 
from a moment ago, trying to figure out, and then I stumbled on 
it.

"I didn't mean anything... I'm sorry. I was talking about 
coffee," I mumbled.

"It's OK! I know you were talking about coffee," she said. Then 
reaching out with her hand she put it on top of my hand.

If I hadn't seen her move, I would have reacted, but even then, 
it took a lot to steel myself for her touch. I felt that 
invisible cord tug, tug hard to pull me into the abyss, almost 
turning my insides to water.

_You don't know what you're doing to me girl... or maybe you 
do..._

"I never wanted to... I didn't want to hurt you," she said, her 
eyes luminous, almost moist. "You were the best friend I ever 
had."

"I know. I understood that when you first said it," I replied.

"Maybe you did... maybe not," she replied. Her eyes kept 
searching my face, trying to determine if I did.

_And what friends we had been. Friends don't dance the way we 
did... or kiss... or make lo--_

_Don't go there. It's past! It's over._

"You always tried to tell me before I made my mistakes. Sometimes 
I knew it... sometimes I didn't, until later. But you were right. 
We both knew it. And you still tried to help. Unlike others. 
That's what I valued most... your friendship," she said gently.

"But..." I said, and then I changed my mind. I didn't want to get 
into what I knew was still going on. I knew she had changed, but 
not much. I could see it in her eyes. She just couldn't stay 
alone. She hated being alone. She always needed to be with 
someone. She always wanted attention, if she couldn't get love. 
Yet, she turned her back to the ones that really loved her.

"But..." she said, urging me to continue with an insistent stare.

_Don't make me say it... It's going to hurt you, and you know I 
don't want to hurt you. Don't you get it? Whatever you do, I love 
you. And I don't want to hurt you._

"People change. It's what happens given time," I said. That 
wasn't what I had in mind though. I just said it to keep her from 
pursuing that particular line, but she knew me well.

"You were a good friend. Are you not a _friend_... anymore? Was 
that what you were going to say?"

I know my eyes were almost pleading her not to go there, but she 
kept her gaze steady. I tried desperately another route. "You 
know how I felt about you. How can you trust my judgment, when 
it's colored by personal feelings, involvement?"

"Because that's not you," she said, giving a squeeze to my hand. 
"You can't protect me from myself. You think it will hurt me, but 
_this_... hurts more!"

_Damn you... damn you..._

With reluctance, I said, "Let me guess... Instead of the usual 
guys, you're with a pilot... Late thirties, early forties... 
perhaps still married or divorced?"

She lowered her eyes in answer.

"And you feel secure, because he clings to you. Now, you don't 
have to worry about being cast aside or being alone. What's more, 
you can keep him in line... with all the young guys around you, 
he has every reason to be jealous and pay attention to you, if he 
doesn't want to lose you. You stroke his ego, and he pays 
attention to you. He might even be in love with you."

She nodded.

"But do you love him? Don't answer me. I don't need to know the 
answer. You need to know the answer for yourself," I said, too 
tired to continue.

_You have hardened... some part of you is gone... you've changed, 
but now, you have become more of a user. And still, you let 
yourself be used even if you don't recognize that. What happened 
to that 19 year old who knew something about love? But you were 
already hurt, and lost some part of you even then, didn't you?_

_I was too early to be able to recognize it, and too late to 
help... really help, that time. I realized that later, but then 
it was... it was over!_

_And now?_

Her earlier wildness was just a show. When she was like that, 
people flocked to her, but it was a tiring performance. Now, a 
couple of years older, she knew she couldn't keep it up 
indefinitely. Not with the kind of work she was doing. It was 
already tough enough, the irregular hours, the different places. 
I suspected the usual nightlife and partying that went on with 
the flight crews gave more than enough opportunity to keep part 
of her wild ways, but I have my doubts whether she was as wild as 
she was at 19. I had made it my business to learn some things 
about flight crews and their lives when I heard she had joined an 
airline as a flight attendant. Her tired and older look hidden 
behind the heavy layer of makeup confirmed my suspicions, as her 
nonverbal responses to my guesses. She had never used makeup when 
I first knew her, just a little bit of lipstick or gloss. Still, 
in all that, I could feel the pain, and hurt, and the loneliness 
she felt. I could feel the pull of all her emotions, and I was 
losing my balance. I tried to take couple of deep breaths to 
clear up my mind and calm myself, but it was a loosing battle.

_The innocence lost..._

She hadn't been innocent then, not in any sense of the word--
including the biblical sense--but there had been a little piece 
of innocence. Now, I suspected that was gone, too.

_What a loss... what a waste... are you ever going to find some 
happiness?_

She broke the silence. "You're right on most accounts. This time 
it's different though. He loves me, and it's comforting."

_Oh, God! The question is, do you love him? Are you happy? You 
used to know what love is. You used to know how to love, if what 
I had seen wasn't an act... if what we did, what we had 
wasn't..._

I was stunned by her statement, and her ignorance. I looked in 
her eyes, trying to find some hidden answers there, and she 
averted her eyes.

_Why? What are you hiding? You don't really believe what you 
said, do you? Then, why did you say it?_

The sadness I felt was overwhelming me. I was too tired to be 
able to deal with it, or control my emotions effectively. I 
wanted to move to some distance and find a private place to pull 
myself together. Hastily, I said, "Excuse me. I think all that 
coffee caught up with me," and left to use the facilities.

I was ready to cry, and I hadn't cried in many years, even when I 
was a young child I had rarely cried. Now, I was fighting very 
hard the urge to cry. Once in the rest room, I washed my face, 
hoping the cold water would help, but it didn't. As I 
concentrated on my breathing, I tried to recall a good memory. 
Not of the beach, because she had been part of that beach for a 
while, and I didn't want her to intrude and break my 
concentration, but some place else, where I had found beauty, 
comfort, and peace; where she hadn't been a part of the scenery. 
I remembered a trip I had made to a small town by the 
Mediterranean coast, before I went to the boot camp. A couple of 
miles outside the town there was a beautiful picnic area with a 
small waterfall, feeding a large pond. It was one of the nicest, 
most beautiful places I had ever visited. I pulled the memory of 
that place; sitting by the pond, and watching the waterfall, 
listening to the sound of birds, and crickets, feeling at peace.

I started to calm down, but the urge to cry didn't leave me. 
However, I couldn't bring myself to cry, so I did the next best 
thing. I let the waterfall cry the tears I couldn't. I knew I had 
a hangup about crying... something about weakness. 
Intellectually, I knew it was a natural reaction of the body to 
extreme emotion or other stimuli, and the body needed to have 
some release. I wondered if this little episode would eventually 
catch up with me, later on. However, at that moment, I just 
didn't want to return to the table with any traces of having 
cried, thus I sought the alternative, and it helped.

Back at the table, I had a semblance of control. I took a sip 
from my cup, and grimaced at the taste of cold coffee. "I think 
I'll get orange juice or something. You want something?"

"Juice is fine," she replied.

After picking up the glasses, I returned to the table. She was 
lost in thought, her eyes distant, and I didn't like the way she 
looked. I just didn't know what to do to comfort her, so I took 
her hand in mine, and when she looked up, I tried a smile. "Where 
are you flying?"

"Tonight is my last flight. Tomorrow is Rome, with an overnight 
stay."

"Nice. So, you'll have time to do some sight seeing."

"Yeah. It will be my tenth time there. Well, with an overnight 
stay that is. We usually make a short stop there. What about 
you?"

"Nothing concrete. Few days seeing the parents, and my sis, and I 
need the car checked. After that, I don't know. Probably the 
South coast. I might drive up to the Aegean coastline as well."

"Have you been to..." she hesitated for a moment, then continued, 
"to the summer place?"

"Once. A few years ago. In November, when I had a week off after 
boot camp. Before I got transferred to my new unit."

"November? That place?" she asked, with a quizzical look.

"Yep. It was on my way."

"What did you do? It must have been cold."

"It was, when I arrived... late in the evening. I had bought a 
small bottle of cognac and some sandwiches, so they helped... 
with two heavy blankets. Next day was great though."

"Really?" she asked, curious and a bit skeptical, but somehow 
relaxed.

"Oh, yeah. It was sunny, and warm. Went to the town, and looked 
up a friend. We went to the little island for a bite and a mid-
day drink... Ouzo and some fresh fish. God, how I had missed that 
stuff, when I was in the boot-camp. The next day, I took a bus to 
my unit," I said with a laugh, remembering that beautiful day and 
how I had gotten tipsy with a small bottle of Ouzo.

"It must have been something," she commented, giving me an amused 
look.

I realized how we seemed to settle into the conversation, as we 
had done so many times before. For the first time, the uneasiness 
had left me, and I guess she was feeling comfortable as well from 
the way she responded.

"Was that too obvious?"

That earned me a genuine laughter, and she said, "Kinda," making 
me laugh again.

Then her expression softened, as if she was getting ready to say 
something, but then changed her mind, and kept smiling. For a 
moment, there was that girl from a few years ago... the same 
smile, the same laughter, the same soft eyes. My heart ached... 
something fierce.

_God, I missed this. Missed hearing your laughter, and laughing 
with you._

"I missed your laughter, and smile. You should smile more. It 
suits you," I said, instinctively.

"You always said that."

"But it's the truth. You don't believe me?"

"Thank you. You're still... a good friend," she said, then waited 
as if expecting a response.

_Don't... don't do this to me. What do you mean a friend? A 
friend or a lover? I can't be either. You've changed, and lost 
something, along the way. I've changed._

_I want that girl back. I loved that girl and still love her. But 
she is gone, isn't she?_

_I don't know if I love this woman sitting across me. Not when 
you're not sure you mean it. I'm just barely managing. I don't 
know if I can survive a second time._

"I-I... I try to be... but I know... I haven't always been..."

"Don't say _that_!" she cut me off heatedly, then more gently, 
repeated it again. "Don't ever say that."

_Why? In the end, I quit trying. Maybe I could have tried harder. 
Sure, you didn't listen, or help the situation, but..._

_I burned the bridge. Did I not?_

"Thank you, but--" I said, but she cut me off gently with a shake 
of her head, not letting me finish what I wanted to say.

"You did the right thing. At least, one of us knew it was the 
right thing," she said.

_Huh? Right thing? Breaking up was the right thing, instead of 
fighting for what we seemed to have?_

"I'm not sure if any of us knew what the right thing was," I 
replied, my mind taking a stroll in the past, taking an inventory 
of all the little things we had shared and done.

"I wasn't ready for a commitment, and you saw it," she reminded 
gently. "You saw... what I was like..."

"Why are you putting yourself down? I know what I had seen... 
what I felt... Was I wrong in assuming you felt the same?"

She gave me a pained look before lowering her gaze to the table, 
and picked up her glass. "I told you then, I wasn't in love," she 
said before taking a sip.

_You mean what we did was just a... fuck? Nothing more?_

_That cannot be. I had seen your eyes. How happy and content you 
looked. It wasn't just good sex. We were connected. I know what a 
one-night stand is. That wasn't a one-night stand or a casual 
fuck._

_Why did you take me to your bed? Why do you keep denying it? You 
denied it then, and you're still denying it._

I jogged my memory going over the times we had been together. 
Walking along the beach... the long talks in the evening... how 
we held each other as we danced... how she kissed and touched 
me... making love... and how she changed later, growing distant 
and pushing me away...

"I didn't know what I was doing. I'm sorry that I hurt you," she 
said.

_At least I had some happy moments. I could say I had loved. 
That's more than some people had or could say..._

"Why? I'm not sorry, and you didn't hurt me," I replied.

She gave me a sad smile. "You are kind... you shouldn't dwell on 
the past. One day a girl will be very lucky to find you. If you 
don't know that yet, I know it."

_Well... there was that girl, once... and... there's that woman 
who might find her way one day..._

As the thought ran through my mind, I knew it was wishful 
thinking, and when my eyes settled on her, she shook her head 
slightly, as if reading my mind--almost saying "don't go there."

"I didn't want to dredge up the past. It's just..." I tried to 
say, but couldn't continue.

"It's been a long time. I know," she said, with a soft, 
sympathetic smile. "I needed to talk as much as you did. I still 
remember how we used to sit and talk. I'm glad we had this 
chance."

I saw her check her watch, and surreptitiously checked mine.

"You need to go?" I asked.

She nodded, then reached out with her hand caressing my cheek. 
"Get rid off that beard and moustache, will you? It doesn't suit 
you," she said with an affectionate smile.

I caught her hand, and brought her palm to my lips giving a kiss. 
"I will... if you let your hair grow long," I replied, with a 
smile.

She laughed, her eyes bright with joy. She knew I loved her long 
hair, even when it was stringy with sweat, after we finished...

We both stood up, and she moved into my arms, hugging each other. 
Her hand moved to my neck, caressing, and playing with my hair, 
pulling me for a kiss, and I leaned in instinctively. At the last 
moment we both realized what we were about to do, and froze for a 
long second, our eyes locking. Then she gave a kiss to my cheek, 
and I tightened my arms around her. I knew she didn't want to 
kiss. Not because we were in a public place, but perhaps it would 
have been too much, at least for me, even though I longed to kiss 
her one more time... after so long...

Resting her cheek against my chest, she let her body sag, hanging 
on my neck. How I missed the feel of her, of her body in my arms. 
I don't know how long we stayed like that rocking each other 
gently, remembering happier moments. Reluctantly, she let go of 
my neck, and stepped back.

She tried to compose her face, but her eyes were big, and 
luminous. "Take care of yourself, will you?" she said.

"You know I will. You make sure you do too, OK?"

"I will. Don't worry about me... and... thank you," she said.

When I tried to help with her bag to accompany her to the flight-
crew lounge, she waved me away, saying, "It would be better if 
you stayed here." With that she took the handle of her overnight 
bag. Then, with a tight smile, she said, "I don't like 
goodbyes... Till next time?"

I nodded. "Till next time."

As she walked away, I whispered after her, "and I love you... 
too."

She had taken only a few steps, when she stopped and turned to 
take one last look, with a happy smile on her face. For a moment, 
I wondered how much of that smile was for my benefit and how much 
of it was for her. "Friends?" she asked.

"Always," I said, blowing a kiss with a smile I could hardly 
manage.

I watched her turn and walk away to the crew lounge, with a heavy 
heart. That invisible cord between us was pulling and tugging at 
me. It was still there. Suddenly, I felt drained, and sunk into 
the chair, not able to stand there to watch her disappear among 
the crowds. I knew this was the end. Maybe one day she would 
change, but it was already too late... Time had a way of bringing 
on the finality of a situation, and that was what I felt.

_Is this closure?_

I didn't know. If this was closure, why did I still feel her 
presence, and the invisible cord that bound us?

I lit a cigarette, not wanting to head home yet. I went over the 
conversation we had. There was still something, if I was reading 
her correctly. Yet, she was unwilling to pursue it or let me 
pursue. That was clear. She had made that very clear. I didn't 
hurt, not as much as I had a few years ago. I was just sad. We 
were like two celestial objects with different trajectories. At 
one point in time, our paths had crossed for a brief period, 
before moving away. The strange thing was, the gravitational pull 
was still there, as strong as before. It didn't feel like a 
goodbye. It felt more like I was attending the burial ceremony. 
Perhaps that was true; that 19 year old girl with the bright 
smile, carefree laughter, and soft eyes was dead. She had been 
already a victim of time and youthful stupidity then, and now...

Was she gone forever, or was there still a small piece left 
inside her? I didn't know, and I was too tired to be able to 
think clearly, so I let it go. Maybe some other time I would go 
over it, if ever. I just wanted to bask in the aurora she had 
left at the table, absorb and make it a permanent part of my 
memories. After all this was a goodbye--or a funeral. Right on 
cue, the soft music that was coming from the PA speakers changed 
to _Who Wants to Live Forever_ by Queen.

_Thanks Freddie! I owe you one._



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 3: Angels Watching Over



I don't know how long I sat there... a half hour... an hour. It 
was getting late, and I needed to head home, but I couldn't bring 
myself to leave the table--even after her presence faded away. 
Eventually, I marshaled enough strength to get myself off the 
chair. Towing my suitcase on its rollers, I walked to the main 
hall with the view of the aprons. For some reason I wanted to 
linger in this place. I didn't want to admit it, but I was 
scared; scared that if I stepped out of this building, I would 
lose my soul. Turn into just an empty carcass, wandering 
aimlessly... a mindless creature that would fade away... in time.

Looking out the panoramic windows, I watched the planes taking 
off and landing, but my eyes were not really seeing much. I was 
gazing at the past. Was it my stubborn side that didn't want to 
let it go, or was I not ready to come to terms with... with loss? 
For almost five years, she had been a part of me, however much I 
had tried to forget her... or convince myself that it was over. 
And now, this encounter brought home that I had never let go of 
her... she was, still, very much a part...

I was in a bubble, cut off from my surroundings, enveloped by her 
aurora, the past, and how she felt in my arms a while ago. What's 
more, for a brief period, the emptiness inside me had been filled 
with the warmth of her smile, her laughter, and all the other 
feelings she had evoked in me. Even the sadness I had felt during 
our conversation had been a welcome relief from the constant 
emptiness, or the anger that had been part of me for so long. 
Now, it was back to emptiness. I didn't have the energy or the 
inclination to muster anger, or any other emotion. I felt like a 
ship without any wind behind its sails, cast adrift, lost in the 
middle of the ocean, without a port of call.

This wasn't closure, contrary to any notion I might have or cling 
to.

"Excuse me... Excuse me... Sir?"

I heard a female voice far away, calling out, intruding...

"Sir? Are you all right?"

_Was somebody talking to me?_

Then, I felt a hand touch my arm, followed by an insistent and 
concerned, "Are you all right?"

As I broke out of my haze, I saw a woman in uniform, standing by 
my side. My mind was sluggish, but eventually I recognized the 
airline uniform. When my eyes settled on her face, she looked 
familiar, but I couldn't place where I had seen her or recall a 
name.

"I'm sorry... What did you say?" I asked, struggling to pull 
myself together, and get my bearings.

"Are you all right? Do you need a doctor or something?" she 
asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"I-I... I'm all right... Do I know you?" I blurted.

She hesitated for a moment, giving me a quizzical look, then 
decided to answer. "I was on the flight."

Drawing a blank look from me, she elaborated. "I was one of the 
flight attendants on your flight."

"Ahhh... That's why you looked familiar..."

My mind skipped a gear, and I was puzzled why she would be here, 
when...

"You don't have a flight?" I asked.

"No. My flight was cancelled, so I get to spend the night here."

"Aahh..."

_Your flight is cancelled... Is she..._

The wheels started to turn faster, and I debated whether to ask 
her about that. Before I could come to a decision, she asked, 
"Can we take a seat there?" pointing at the row of seats a few 
meters away from where we were standing.

Without waiting for a response, she gently guided us there.

After we took our seat, I remembered to introduce myself. "I'm 
sorry. Where are my manners... Mitchell Tanner."

"That's OK. You were, pre-occupied... Dana Conor," she replied 
pleasantly.

I was starting to feel a headache come, as if my tiredness wasn't 
enough. I closed my eyes, rubbing them, massaging my temples. 
When I felt the tension leave, I opened my eyes to find her 
watching me.

"I'm sorry... I'm pretty beat up... I guess it shows," I offered 
as a way of explanation.

She just waved it off as if to say 'it's all right,' but kept 
watching me. She waited patiently as I tried to gather a 
semblance of myself. Once I felt a bit more human, I was curious 
about her. A thousand questions rushed in, all at once: what was 
she doing here, why did she think I needed help, where was...

I guess it must have showed on my face, so she said, "I was on my 
way to the exit, when I saw you standing there, and recognized 
you from the flight. You know what happened on the flight... my 
colleague was paying extra attention to you, so it was kind of 
hard not to recognize you."

I nodded. "I guess... Pretty unusual wasn't it?"

"It happens, but not very frequently."

"So what made you..." I prompted, my curiosity getting the better 
of me.

She was reluctant to answer, and I could see she felt 
uncomfortable.

"I understand... We just met, and don't know each other. And I 
think I have an idea how I look at the moment," I said with a 
sigh.

"You... You were like a statue, cut out of stone... I couldn't 
see if you were breathing. I thought, maybe I should call for 
some medical help."

"That bad, eh?"

She nodded, concern written on her face. However, she kept her 
curiosity in check, not wanting to intrude. In a way, it was a 
strange situation. She might know I was a friend of her 
colleague, but she didn't know me.

"You seem to be OK now, are you?" she asked, breaking the 
silence.

"I guess... I was..." I tried to say, but my mind was preoccupied 
by the thoughts of _her_, if she was still here...

"Do you mind if I smoke?" she asked.

"Not at all... I'm sorry, I didn't ask, but I am not holding you 
up, am I? I am sorry if I caused you any concern," I replied, 
while lighting her cigarette.

"It's all right. Don't worry about it," she replied with a short 
wave of her hand dismissing my concern. Then, with a smile she 
added, "We help passengers, and you are in an airport."

I couldn't help but smile. She was good at what she was doing. 
"Thank you. I really appreciate it," I said, lighting a cigarette 
myself.

I was starting to feel more comfortable in her presence, and that 
was surprising considering we didn't know each other. Somehow, 
she had managed to create a relaxing atmosphere, and I was 
debating seriously how I could ask the questions I had in my 
mind... of a complete stranger.

"Umm... She has..." she said.

When I looked at her, she continued. "She left an hour ago on her 
flight. I was assigned to another flight, which was cancelled 
later."

"I see."

_Well, she's gone! What were you going to do if she was still 
around? Go after her?_

Could I have? Would I? I didn't know... She was gone, and the 
only thing I felt was desolation... a sense of being lost. 
Completely lost. I just wanted her by my side. For the first time 
in many years, I felt a desperate need for her presence--the 
likes of which I had rarely felt before. And that scared me. I 
had always been independent.

"Mitchell?"

"Hmm..."

"Mitchell?" she called out gently, trying to get my attention.

I tried to fight off the desperation, still lost in the 
troublesome maze of my mind, chasing endless thoughts and 
questions. I felt her hand on my arm.

When I looked at her, she asked, "You want to talk about it? 
About what's troubling you? Maybe it would help."

"I... I'm terribly sorry... I didn't want to be such a burden. 
I'm OK... You've been a tremendous help," I replied, the words 
coming out with a mechanical monotony, while trying to shake my 
mind clear of thoughts of her.

"Nonsense. I didn't do anything, and you are no trouble at all," 
she responded.

I felt embarrassed, and guilty of keeping her from doing whatever 
she was going to do. I took a long drag from my cigarette, trying 
to gather my wits.

She kept her gaze on me. She seemed to be mulling something in 
her mind. Coming to a decision, she said, "You two have a 
history, don't you?"

At that, the air whooshed out of me like a deflating balloon, and 
I slumped in my seat.

"I guessed as much..." she said, patting my arm to comfort me.

"How? Is it that obvious?" I asked after I caught my breath.

She took a long pause, considering her answer carefully.

"Is it that difficult a question?" I prompted.

"No, it's not. But... it's more complicated than that. I don't 
want to be the cause of further pain... to either of you... Maybe 
I shouldn't have opened my mouth," she replied, clearly disturbed 
at something.

_Either of--_

_What happened? Is something wrong with her?_

"Why? What's wrong? Was she OK? Did she say something?" My 
questions came out in a rush, the urgency unmistakable.

"She was quiet... lost in thought. I don't know her very well, 
but we have worked together on many flights. She's always been 
bubbly... But today, she disappeared for a while... I am guessing 
she visited the rest room. When she returned her makeup was 
refreshed, but her eyes were red. What happened between you two?"

"It's... it's a long story... "

_She was smiling when she left... Why did she cry? I didn't want 
to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt her. She knew that, didn't 
she?_

"I'm not going anywhere... do you have plans?" she said, taking 
me by surprise.

"Why would you do something like that? You hardly know me..." I 
found myself saying. I realized it wasn't a very polite thing to 
do, and I was abashed by my lack of self-control. I was at my 
wit's end, but that was no excuse to be tactless.

Before I could apologize, she gently patted my arm, trying to 
reassure me, and said, "Mitchell. I understand your concerns... 
Let's say I have a soft spot for... for lovers... I may not know 
her very well and you not at all, but... I watched you two on the 
airplane. I saw her when she came into the crew lounge. And, I 
saw you standing here... I think you need to talk, and I'm 
willing to listen. Where's the harm in that?"

That earned her a look of gratitude, because at that moment I was 
feeling like a drowning man, completely helpless.

"Thank you. You are very kind." Checking my watch, I found it was 
getting close to dinnertime. "It's almost dinnertime. Would you 
join me for dinner... here or in town? I don't know what your 
plans were, but if I have to take you up on your offer, I must 
insist. That's the least I can do."

"Dinner would be fine. In fact, the hotel I'm staying has a good 
restaurant, so we can share a taxi downtown and have dinner 
there. I don't have any plans, so don't concern yourself about 
that," she said. Giving me a gentle and sympathetic look, she ran 
her hand on my arm, and added, "I would really like to hear 
this... Mitch."

Now that the immediate course of action was decided, my mind 
switched its attention to details. I had people expecting me, and 
I was already late. I didn't know if I wanted to face them, 
tonight. I had to cover any eventuality, keeping my options open. 
Working on a practical problem was better than being 
directionless, feeling lost and helpless. It helped take my mind 
off the feelings that were plaguing me.

"Thank you. Ummm... I need to make a call. Some people are 
expecting me. They might get worried. If you excuse me for a 
moment, I'll be right back."

I was considering taking a room at her hotel to spend the night, 
and face the family next day, with a fresh face rather than the 
way I looked. I wasn't planning to sleep with Dana--come on, 
we've just met--and I wasn't over my encounter to jump into bed 
with a woman.

I went to the public telephones, and made a call to my sis. She 
wasn't at home, so I tried my parents. Mom answered at the third 
ring, and as soon as she recognized my voice, I was under a 
barrage of questions. Once I calmed her, I told her I ran into an 
old friend and we lost track of time trying to catch up, that's 
why I was late. Then I added that I might be held up until late 
at night or perhaps tomorrow, so they shouldn't wait on me. She 
wasn't happy, but she didn't make an issue of it. That done, I 
went back to Dana, and collecting our belongings, we headed out 
to the taxi stand.



* * * * *



In the taxi, Dana gave the directions to the hotel, and half an 
hour later, we were at its doorstep. At the reception desk, I 
felt a bit awkward. I was trying to figure out a way to get a 
room discretely, so that I wouldn't give Dana the wrong idea, but 
she noticed my unease, and pulled me aside.

"Mitchell, is something wrong? Are you having second thoughts?" 
she asked.

"It's nothing."

"Come on Mitch. Something's bothering you. What is it?"

"Ummm... I was thinking of getting a room... I wanted to take a 
quick shower, and get a good night's sleep before facing people 
tomorrow. I wanted to look fresh when I met them. I didn't want 
to give you the wrong idea. I just realized, I didn't even stop 
to consider whether you'd like to be seen with me in public... 
considering the way I must look at the moment," I replied, 
feeling very self-conscious.

When she heard that, her eyes widened, then she reached out with 
her hand and brushed my cheek with her fingertips affectionately. 
"You _are_ sweet, you know that? You look like you're ready to 
collapse... I can't imagine what kind of emotional stress you're 
under... and you think about all these things. I really need to 
get to know you," she said with a sympathetic smile.

Thinking over something, she continued. "I have a better idea. 
It's a bit unconventional and I don't want to embarrass you, but 
I want you to think about it. We are going to have dinner, and 
we'll talk and I don't know how long that will take, but we need 
privacy and a comfortable, relaxing place. You may not agree... 
but you need company. I think it would be better if we get a room 
with double beds--or a suite to share--rather than two single 
rooms. You and I both know we will not be doing anything, don't 
we?" At that last, she gave me a comforting smile.

She had a way with words, and a genuine sincerity that put me at 
ease, and make me see her point of view. If I had had this 
proposal from anybody else, I would have refused it offhand, 
unless it was part of a seduction, and I was willing to 
participate. I didn't know why, but in the short period of time 
since we met, she had my trust. I couldn't help but wonder who 
was watching over me, and had placed Dana in my path. Still, I 
was a bit uncomfortable, but before I could state any objections, 
she beat me to it.

"Mitch, really... It's no big deal. I could use the company 
myself, and I would feel better knowing that you are OK. You're 
not imposing at all. What's more, we wouldn't have to rush, and 
would have all the time we need to talk. My next flight is mid-
day tomorrow, so we can stay up late. What do you say?"

"Dana... I don't know what to say... I'm flabbergasted. I'm just 
wondering if this is a dream, or if you're an angel... I won't be 
shot by an angry husband or a boyfriend, will I?"

"No to all your questions," she replied with a laugh. "No, this 
isn't a dream, and no, I'm not an angel, and there are no 
husbands or boyfriends..."

"Umm... OK. It sounds like a plan. Maybe we should get a suite, 
so you will have some privacy. I'm an uneasy sleeper, and don't 
want to deprive you of a decent rest."

"All right. Let's do it," she said. Hooking her arm in mine, she 
steered us back to the concierge.

We asked what was available. In the end, we settled for a small 
suite--two interconnected rooms with a shared bath. The rooms 
were big and pleasant, and the bath had a nice big tub and a 
shower. I asked Dana when she would like to have dinner, and she 
suggested we call for room service, in an hour or so. That gave 
us plenty time to take a shower and clean-up. Dana went first to 
shower, then 20 minutes later, knocked on my door, telling me the 
shower was available.

I picked up my toiletries, and a hotel towel, and entered the 
bath. After brushing my teeth, I stepped into the tub, and pulled 
the shower curtain. Setting the water temperature to colder than 
lukewarm, I stepped under the high-pressure spray. With my hands 
on the tiles, leaning against the wall, I let the water beat on 
my tired body, washing away the grime of travel, and the stress.

I'm not sure what happened next, though. One moment I was 
standing, and the next I was shaking. It wasn't the cold water, 
although it was cold. It was more like after-shocks. I had that 
before, when I had survived my first serious scrape...

_Serious scrape? Really? You don't know how lucky you had been to 
survive... and without a scratch to show for it..._

Couple of years ago, I was driving on the country road to the 
rig-site, in a rush. The roads were bad: loose sand, gravel and 
compacted clay. Parts of the road were still wet and muddy from 
recent rains, and I was driving pretty fast, about 80-90 km/hr, 
because I had driven this road a few times and was familiar with 
it. I was approaching a curve, still on a dry portion and didn't 
slow down. I guess I was preoccupied and wasn't paying attention. 
I just felt the steering wheel getting a bit lighter, and took my 
foot off the gas pedal. The car slowed down, but because I didn't 
brake, it didn't slow down much, and what's more, I felt it was 
losing traction. By then, I was approaching the curve, and I went 
from DEFCON 4 to DEFCON 1. But, the damage had already been done. 
I didn't use the brakes, because the surface was muddy again, and 
I tried to steer the car gently from the middle towards the inner 
part of the curve, hoping the tires would sink in the soft mud 
and perhaps slow down the car a bit.

I distinctly remember the sinking feeling in the pit of my 
stomach, as the car failed to respond, and started to slip 
towards the outer edge. Beyond the edge, it was a pretty steep 
slope of 25-30 meters to a flatter but somewhat rocky surface. 
The whole thing had a surreal quality; time seemed to slow down, 
and I remember thinking, 'so, this is it... no chance to say 
goodbye... in a few seconds it will be over... so stupid... such 
a stupid way to go!'

The next thing I experienced was the slow tumbling and rolling of 
the car over the edge. I had my arms up trying to protect my face 
from the shattering window, and to keep my head safe from hitting 
the roof, and generally trying not to be thrown out of the seat. 
I remember the roof crunching down, and my head hitting it during 
the roll, my body held by the seat belt. I felt disjointed from 
the whole thing, despite the adrenalin rush... not exactly 
scared, but angry at my stupidity. The whole event was over in a 
matter of seconds. I remember feeling helpless, and caught in a 
violent whirlpool, the sound of metal being torn and buckling, 
and wondering when it's going to end, when death is going to 
claim me.

Then, suddenly, everything came to a stop. I was upside down, 
with a bump or two on my head, but still breathing, and still 
alive. I was dazed by the violence of the whole experience. After 
several minutes hanging still, frozen in shock, I did a quick 
check of my joints and extremities; luckily, I wasn't hurt or 
wounded. However, I was pretty much disoriented viewing the world 
upside down. I carefully freed myself from the seat belt, taking 
care not to get hurt. Since the roof was partly collapsed, there 
wasn't much chance of a fall down on my head. After I rolled over 
on my belly, I looked for a way out. The front windshield seemed 
to offer the best opportunity, so I kicked out the remaining 
glass, and carefully crawled out.

Once I was outside, I took careful inventory of myself, taking my 
time. Nothing was broken, and apart from the two painful bumps on 
my head, I had no injuries. That done, I carefully inspected the 
slope, curious to determine the path the car took while rolling 
down. I was surprised to see how it missed several out-cropping 
rocks and intrusions on its way down. If the driver's side had 
hit some of these, I would have serious injuries, and might have 
been killed instantly. Metal had torn, but mostly the rear doors, 
or the back of the roof.

_Lucky?_

_More like charmed!_

I don't remember how long I stood there, looking at the slope up 
and down in stunned silence. I know that I had taken a few steps 
away from the car and lit a cigarette, trying to comprehend what 
and how it happened, running the whole incident in my mind in 
slow motion replay. After a while, I started to walk to find a 
way to the road, and look for help. Several hours later, I was on 
the rig-site, being checked by the medic. Later, they had me sent 
to the hospital for X-rays, fearing concussion, etc. but they 
didn't find anything and I was given a clean bill of health.

Two days later, I was back at the rig-site, sipping my coffee and 
chatting with the guys about the preparations for an upcoming 
operation, when I had the shakes. It started slowly, and caught 
me with surprise. I didn't understand what was happening, and 
just managed to put my cup on the table, before the shakes 
intensified. One of the guys rushed out for the medic, and 
another pulled me to one of the benches, trying to calm me down. 
It just took maybe a minute or so, then it was over. Medic said I 
was having after-shocks. That was the shakes... and not the last 
time. I had several other scrapes since then, and every time they 
were followed by a delayed reaction...

So, here I was, standing under the running water in the tub, when 
the shakes hit me. I was caught unawares, because there wasn't 
any possible reason for this to happen. I hadn't had a life-
threatening experience. As the shakes intensified, I almost 
collapsed. Before I slipped and fell down, I dropped down to my 
knees with a thud, and kneeling, I grabbed the edge of the tub to 
steady myself. Next thing I know, I was sitting in the tub, 
cowering, and shaking... and... crying. Crying like a baby for 
Christ's sake... After a while, I raised my face up to the spray 
to stop crying, but I couldn't, although I was calming down, 
albeit very slowly.

"Mitch... Mitch, are you OK?"

Dana was calling from the outside of the bath, but I was unable 
to respond. She knocked on the door a few times, and when she 
didn't hear me respond, she knocked harder.

_Jeeez... Get a hold of yourself. You don't wanna be caught like 
this, do you?_

"Mitchell, is everything all right there?" Her voice was high 
pitched, worried.

_Shit! Come on... control yourself and respond..._

I heard the door open a fraction and she called out again, 
"Mitchell, are you OK?"

"Yeah!"

Luckily the running water was making a lot of noise, so she might 
think I hadn't heard her.

"Are you all right? I thought..."

"Almost slipped," I managed to get out, trying to control my 
crying.

"Uhh... OK... Sorry... Be careful," she said, then closed the 
door.

_Pheeeww! That was close..._

If she had walked in on me, I didn't know what I would have done. 
The scare she gave me, and the possibility of embarrassment 
helped me to gain a semblance of control. I sat there a few more 
minutes, letting out the tears that needed to come out. When I 
calmed down, I stood up, turned on the hot water tap more, and 
started to wash myself. By the time I was washing the suds away, 
I was functioning at some level of normalcy, and my mind was busy 
trying to figure out why it happened. While I was toweling 
myself, I remembered my trip to the rest rooms at the airport, 
and how I had fought my urge to cry. I had been successful then, 
but in reality, it was bottled up inside me. With all the other 
things that happened later, the realization of my loss and the 
associated emptiness, it had finally caught up with me in the 
shower. A part of me was disgusted with my weakness, but I was 
feeling much better than an hour ago, as if a heavy burden had 
been lifted off my shoulders.

_Maybe what they say is true. Crying cleanses the soul..._

When I looked at myself on the mirror, I was surprised to see 
that I looked much better than a couple of hours ago. My eyes 
were slightly red, and a bit sunken, but I didn't look like death 
warmed over. What's more, I wasn't feeling as tired or desolate 
as before.

Back in my room, I put on a clean pair of jeans and a shirt, and 
a comfortable pair of moccasins. Usually I go with socks or bare 
feet, wanting to feel the floor or ground. I never liked heels in 
shoes. Even my cowboy boots, which normally came with heels of 
more than an inch, didn't have much in the way of heels--about a 
quarter of an inch. I was feeling pretty good, and wanted to 
bring myself up a bit more.

I wanted to be ready for the dinner, Dana's company, and our 
eventual talk. I didn't want to break down as I had in the 
shower. I sat on the thick-carpeted floor, legs crossed in a 
comfortable manner--not exactly the Lotus position--resting my 
hands palm down on my legs. I went through slow breathing 
exercises, relaxing my muscles, and letting my mind wander. I 
didn't try to chase thoughts or hook onto a particular one. I 
just let them come and go. In about fifteen minutes, I was 
feeling rejuvenated, and ready to face the world again.



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 4: Opening Vaults



I knocked on the door interconnecting our rooms.

"It's not locked, come on in," I heard her call out.

When I walked in, she was putting her uniform in the closet. 
Finished with that, she turned and picked up the clothes on her 
bed to place them in the drawers. She glanced at me and faltered; 
almost dropping the bundle she had in her arms. She put them back 
on the bed, and took a few steps closer to give me a critical 
look, making me queasy.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

She ignored my question, and instead asked, "Are you using 
drugs?" with a serious tone.

_Huh! Drugs? Where the hell did that come from?_

"Drugs?" I was confused, and that was saying little.

Her eyes were critically examining me, but especially my eyes.

"You... You are looking good. Compared to a while ago, you're 
looking better than good. I just thought you had taken 
something," she responded in an apologetic manner.

I didn't have a response to that. I didn't think I was looking as 
good as she made me out to be.

"You mean I don't look like death warmed over?" I tried to joke. 
"A shower can do wonders."

"Yeah... something like that," she said with soft laugh. "Are you 
sure it was just a shower? You have to tell me your trick, 
whatever it is. I could certainly use it."

"You don't need any tricks. You're looking great," I replied.

She _was_ looking great, dressed in tight jeans and a form-
hugging sweater that accentuated her shapely body. She had her 
long blonde hair loose on her shoulders, making her look younger 
than her years--I estimated her to be around early 30s, but she 
didn't look a day over 25.

"A woman can always use help when it comes to looks, and I'm 
dying to know how you managed what you did."

_I didn't do anything... I just broke down and cried like a 
baby!_

The thought made me cringe and I searched for a probable 
explanation. However, before I could give her a reply, she moved 
in closer and looked up in my eyes. Caressing my cheek, she said, 
"It's all right, Mitch."

_Does she know--_

_Of course, you fool! Women always know things like that._

With that thought, I tensed up.

"Don't be embarrassed. You needed to get it out of your system. 
It's as good as any other way... and sometimes, much better. From 
the looks of it, it did a world of good," she said, trying to put 
me at ease and succeeding. She was a remarkable person. 
Especially, how she managed to appease my unease with her sweet 
talk and soothing manners.

"Shall we order?" she asked, changing the subject.

After we made our choices, I placed the order with room service. 
I prepared a gin and tonic for her, while taking a beer for 
myself. We talked about neutral subjects, trying to get to know 
each other, until the dinner arrived.

During dinner, we continued our talk, and I learned that she had 
been a flight attendant for 12 years. She had a brief, 2-year 
marriage--no kids--ending in an amicable divorce. Now, she was 
seeing a colleague in the office at the airport back in her 
hometown. She moved the subject to me; what I did for work, and 
other general things. I glossed over most of the details--they 
were pretty boring--and gave her a general outline. However, she 
was well aware of the problems in that region, and she had a 
fairly good idea of the dangers involved. That was to be 
expected. Hardly a day passed without an incident being reported 
in the papers or on the TV. Although she probed, she was very 
careful, understanding my reluctance to talk about it except in 
general terms, but I had a growing suspicion that she had learned 
more than I gave her credit for.

After dinner, she kicked off her shoes, and putting up the 
pillows, she got comfortable on her bed. I pulled a comfortable 
looking armchair next to the bed, and settled in. We were both 
feeling mellow with the food, and we continued with a nice red 
wine, enjoying the moment. At first, I was reluctant to drink 
more alcohol. But the wine was good, and I wasn't feeling sleepy 
or tired, strange as that might be.

She was really good company, and I couldn't help but wonder why 
she didn't have a man in her life--yes, she was dating somebody, 
but she gave me the impression that it wasn't yet in a serious 
stage. I was also curious why she had this interest in me. I 
wasn't satisfied with her 'soft spot for lovers' explanation. She 
was not only beautiful but a very kind and generous person, and 
very interesting.

"What's on your mind?" she broke through my wandering mind.

"You said that you have a soft spot for lovers, but the more I 
get to know you, the more I'm..."

"Confused? Curious?"

I nodded.

"That's really a question for another time, and is related to 
her. We can visit that later. However, I need to know something. 
How well do you know her, or do you think you know her?" she 
asked.

_What's she getting at?_

I pondered that question, going over several possibilities. After 
a while, I sensed what she was getting at... the men in her life.

"I figure she has... perhaps, a _reputation_?" I replied, 
choosing my words carefully.

She gave me a long look, trying to get a measure of me, and to 
make sure we were working from the same page. Satisfied with what 
she had seen, she asked, "_That_... doesn't bother you?"

_Does it? Did it?_

_I don't think so... No, I'm not jealous of her other men. If we 
were committed to each other, it would have been different._

_I'm bothered by her frequently indiscriminate and casual 
attitude towards her relations. I'm more concerned for her well 
being and about her general unhappiness._

"It does, but not in the sense you think. I'm not jealous of her 
men. I'm more concerned about her unhappiness."

"And you still love her?"

"I do," I replied. Thinking over about my feelings, I clarified 
my response. "Umm... I know, I still carry something inside me... 
for her... but, I've changed... and she's changed, too... I 
think..."

She nodded, and took a few minutes trying to digest what I said, 
and make some sense of it. I could see she had come up with a 
question, but was hesitant to ask, and I wondered what she had 
stumbled on.

"It's OK! Ask away. If I can't answer or don't want to answer, 
we'll skip it," I said to put her at ease.

"Mitchell, this is a very personal question," she said. "And if 
you can answer, then you have to be truthful... and that might be 
very difficult." The warning in her tone was unmistakable.

_I think I know what's coming... Did we ever..._

"I think I have a fairly good idea. You're wondering if my 
feelings are a result of..." I paused trying to find the right 
expression, and finished with, "an unconsummated relationship?"

She gave a tight smile and nodded.

"No, that's not it. We di--" I caught myself, rephrasing what I 
was going to say. "We'd been intimate... a few times."

She didn't respond, instead she waited patiently, letting me 
decide if I wanted to continue and elaborate.

_God, this is embarrassing. This is private stuff. I don't talk 
about it. Especially when it's related to her._

I started hesitantly, clearly ill at ease to talk about such a 
personal thing.

"We enjoyed it. She... she was happy. It's difficult to explain 
these things... I've been with a few girls before her... casual 
stuff. I know I'm not very experienced, not something special in 
bed. But, I think what we experienced was... more than sex. Don't 
ask me how I know. She was more experienced than me... it was 
unmistakable. I came to learn that she enjoyed sex--nothing wrong 
with that. I'm not scared of a woman who knows how to take her 
pleasure--I'm not talking about orgasms... women can fake that 
and fool a man easily. I am not going to claim I can't be 
fooled... what I'm talking about is the afterwards... what I had 
seen... what I felt... what we felt... and it wasn't just after-
sex glow or something. She was another person... It was as if 
there was only the two of us... no barriers... and for a day or 
two she would be much more... loving... closer, caring, happy, 
content..." I said, searching for the right words, and having 
difficulty expressing myself.

I took a deep breath, trying to clear the images that were 
trickling into my mind. "Am I making any sense?" I asked.

"I know this has been difficult for you, but I appreciate your 
candor. Not every man is willing to admit... Well... you know 
what I mean," she replied gently.

Giving an apologetic smile, she continued, "This is not really 
pertinent, but I'm curious... Do you have casual sex?"

"I'm not sure I understand the question... I've already said I 
had."

"Let me rephrase that. Do you just go to bed with a complete 
stranger, or do you first get to know them... at least to a 
certain degree... where you have some kind of connection?"

That question surprised me, and I thought about my answer.

"Mitchell..."

"Mmmm?"

"Mitchell, you don't have to answer that question. You already 
have."

"Huh?"

Seeing me completely lost, she gave me a sympathetic smile, and 
tried to explain. "From what you had already told me, and your 
reaction to my question, I know that you're not really casual 
about sex. You pick your partner and establish a connection. If 
there's no connection of some sort, you don't sleep with them. 
Isn't that right?"

"I-I... I guess... unless I'm intoxicated at the time."

She nodded her understanding, then followed up with another 
question. "And your partner's pleasure comes first?"

I nodded.

"If nobody has told you before, I'll tell you now. You have the 
right attitude... the attitude that women look for in men--and 
find infrequently. You care about your partner, even if you're 
not in love with the person. You try to make it nice for your 
partner. Now, if that person is somebody you are in love with... 
well, I don't have to state the obvious..."

"Thank you... but..."

"Mitch, don't try to sell yourself short. You may be young, and 
lacking some experience, but you care about your partners. As 
long as you make sure they're happy, you don't have anything to 
worry about. Experience comes with time, and opportunity. You may 
not have had too many opportunities, but you're way ahead of 
other players. Trust me. I was married and I've known some men." 
She gave me a look that said she would not accept any objections 
on her verdict, and I tried to accept it as humbly as possible.

"So, we know something... You really loved her, and still do. 
Now, I can answer your question... I know her. I'm sorry if I 
misled you when I said I don't know her very well. But in a way, 
that's true. I didn't say I don't know her at all. We aren't 
close or intimate friends, but we've been together on many 
flights, and it's a small world among the flight crews. So, I got 
to know her quite a bit. You are unlike any of her... friends," 
she said.

"You don't have to be diplomatic on my account. I saw it before."

She gave me a sympathetic smile, and continued. "She is pretty 
lively, which is normal. Especially on long hauls with overnight 
stays or longer. The crews get to enjoy the places and they like 
to party. That's what draws the young girls to the profession. 
Seeing different, exotic places, and meeting people, perhaps a 
potential husband or something. Once they get in, they realize 
it's also hard work, and some quit. Some stick around enjoying 
the work and the opportunities. She enjoys the work, but enjoys 
the partying as well. Nothing excessive, otherwise your work 
starts to suffer. And yes, she has a reputation. Not as an easy 
girl, but she goes through relationships pretty quickly. 
Sometimes it's a regular passenger on one of the routes, 
sometimes a pilot or somebody else from the crew."

"I guessed as much."

"Mitch, what I'm getting at is, you don't fit the pattern."

"What do you mean?"

"You are different from her other guys. Some of them were only 
interested in bedding a girl, any girl. You know the kind of men 
who are interested in _flight attendants_, and what they are 
really interested in. She knew their reputation, but she took 
them up." She gave me a pointed look, to get her meaning across.

"Then, there were the semi-serious and serious relations. A few 
wanted to marry her, but some dropped her when they didn't like 
what they had seen. Sometimes she broke it off," she said. 
Collecting her thoughts she continued. "She was never concerned 
about any of her relations. She was angry with a few, but they 
were assholes. From what I've seen and heard she never gave a 
second thought to any of the guys. She moved on. She doesn't fit 
any pattern I had seen before. She's not shopping for a husband. 
Some girls who go through frequent relations are really shopping, 
but... she's not."

"I know a bit about that... I think... She wanted attention and 
to be loved. She couldn't handle being alone. If somebody showed 
a bit of attention, she would be there. She said as much once, 
that her biggest fear was being alone. She was also a bit of a 
wild girl. Heart of the party... and people flocked. Somehow, I 
always thought that it was an act, perhaps to grab attention. I'm 
not sure, but I think she was hurt early on... before I met her. 
I know she went through some guys before me, and there were 
others when we were breaking up. In the end I was just another 
one on her list," I told her.

"What else did you do? You two must have had something going?"

"Well, at first we were wary. At least, I was. Compared to how 
quickly she became friendly with new people, she was very 
reserved when we first met. We were introduced by a mutual friend 
and, that first moment, I fell in love with her. Sounds corny, 
doesn't it?"

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know. It's... It was something I never felt before. It 
wasn't because she was beautiful. No. I just felt drawn to her. 
Later, I would come to realize there was... umm... this is 
difficult to explain, and I don't know how to put it... but I 
felt a bond... sort of like an invisible cord. She had an 
influence on me. She didn't even have to touch me to exert that 
influence. It was something deep in my belly. Whenever she was 
near me, I felt like I was being pulled into a maelstrom, 
spinning, losing control... Does this make any sense?"

She nodded.

"Anyways... I tried to keep myself under control and fight that 
feeling. I don't like to lose control. We started to see each 
other, mostly within a group of friends, and over a matter of 
days we were talking, opening up to each other. This was before I 
started my senior year. I wasn't experienced enough to see some 
things. I didn't see she wasn't innocent, if you know what I 
mean. Part of my mind was busy trying to figure out how to finish 
school, the military service, and find a good job so I could 
settle down. I knew I wanted to marry her. That was another 
reason I held myself off from getting intimate with her. I didn't 
want us to be caught in a... situation," I said, with an 
embarrassed grin.

"It's understandable, Mitch. Your intentions were honorable," she 
assured me, then nodded at me to continue.

"There was also a vulnerable side to her. She tried to keep it 
hidden, but as we talked more I could see glimpses of it. 
Sometimes she would hint at things, and immediately move onto 
something else, never allowing me to dig deeper. There was some 
thing in her eyes; they were... misty... with... dark clouds... 
most of the time. From the first moment I noticed that, and 
later, it felt like... like there was an eternal sorrow, 
somewhere deep inside her. I know that sounds a bit melodramatic, 
or clich�, but that's what her eyes evoked in me... I didn't 
realize it at the time, but she had some deep wounds. I was just 
not experienced enough to read the signs. I did whatever I could 
to help, from what I could see, but... Anyways, we started to go 
out together, but still usually in a group with friends. After a 
while, we got pretty close. She started the intimacy; first a bit 
of flirting, and then the touching, kissing, and teasing. When we 
danced, it was really something. She was subtle, but very 
intimate. Necking followed. Then we had these long walks in the 
evening along the shore. We would talk, and make out. I could see 
she was no scared virgin. When she invited me into her bed... 
Well, then I knew it."

"You said before, she was another person after... you were 
intimate..."

"She was... When we were with friends, she would flirt and do all 
that stuff on the dance floor. Sometimes she would be slightly 
restrained. But, she always seemed restless, and at times would 
fall back into her party mode and get really wild. Sometimes I 
felt tired, just watching her."

As I continued, the memories started to trickle from the wells of 
past.

"When we had our long walks, she was reluctant to talk about her 
past, like high school and stuff. Sometimes she would be open, 
the next moment she would be reticent, moody. I didn't realize it 
till later, but she had masks she hid behind, and her party mode 
was one of them. In bed, she was passionate... but afterwards... 
that's when she was content, and perhaps really happy. The fa�ade 
or mask would be gone. Her happiness was genuine. She looked at 
peace and happy. And those are the moments I could see her forget 
whatever that was bothering her. And, her eyes would clear, the 
clouds gone... I could also see her fragile side; she didn't try 
to hide it... I don't know how to explain it," I finished with a 
tired sigh.

I took a deep breath, and added, "Perhaps, it doesn't apply, but 
I know how I felt. I felt like I was home, belonging to her, 
right there by her side. Somehow, that's the impression I got 
from her as well, in those moments."

The past was coming awake from its uneasy sleep, the old feelings 
stirring up, reminding me what was, once. I took another deep 
breath, trying to cleanse my mind, my soul, but... I closed my 
eyes, letting my mind wander instead of fighting the images. 
Somehow Dana's presence had a calming effect, giving me strength 
to face the past... what I had left behind.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Dana swirling the wine in her glass, 
giving me time to collect myself. Gathering my thoughts, I said, 
"For a while she would get clingy, if that's the right word. This 
was right after we had been intimate a few times. She would try 
to be with me all the time. We would be watching other couples 
dance, and she would be holding onto my arm... I remember those 
scenes very clearly... When we had our talks, she would cuddle. 
If we had some real privacy, she would sit on my lap, with her 
arm around my neck... things she didn't do before. She would be 
more loving and caring. But in a day or two it would fade away, 
and she would be back to wearing her mask, in the party mode, 
wild."

"What happened... later?"

"I'm not sure. I probed her a few times about her future plans 
and explained what I had to do; finish school, the military 
service, and then a job. She didn't want to talk about it, and 
over a matter of days, she started to push me away. She would be 
warm and loving, the next instant she would be cold and distant. 
We would still talk, or get together for a dance, but it wasn't 
the same. When we were going through that period--we'd been 
intimate twice more--the last times, and her response had not 
changed. We were still close on those two occasions. That really 
confused me. Her body and soul was saying something, and her 
mouth was saying something else."

"When did you break up?"

"Well... During that cooling off period, she was flirting with 
other guys, pushing me away or ignoring me, and then becoming 
loving again. I thought she was trying to make me jealous, so I 
ignored it. Since we weren't committed to each other, I didn't 
see a reason to make it an issue. I would still be there when she 
came for a talk, or for anything else. That's how she got me to 
her bed the last two times. But, I was getting tired of her mood 
changes, and she was getting more blatant, so I tried to talk 
with her. She ignored my attempts. One day I confronted her, told 
her I wanted to marry her, and asked what she wanted from our 
relationship. She replied she wasn't in love with me, but saw me 
as a good friend. I reminded her about our intimate moments, and 
things we used to do, share and enjoy... before things started to 
change. She just shrugged her shoulders, and replied she enjoyed 
our times together. We didn't have a fight, but I didn't want to 
play her game. It was getting pretty painful, and I suggested 
that we stop seeing each other."

The memories started to flood in, as I went back in time, to the 
days when things really took on a turn for the worse.

"We always had a lot of friends, so we would be in a group, but 
ignore each other. She would flirt with some of the guys, but... 
I don't know... I got the impression, she wasn't enjoying herself 
as much as before... I mean, it was as if she was stepping up her 
wildness... her behavior was beyond her party mode act... I don't 
know why, but seeing her like that saddened me more than our 
breakup."

"Do you think she was using the other guys?" she asked.

"I don't know. That's the impression I got. I'm not talking as a 
jilted lover. There was a definite step-up in her wildness, and I 
could sense she wasn't happy. After a while, I didn't stick 
around. Dropped from the group scene. I didn't want to see her 
like that, and... I don't know... I got the feeling she didn't 
want me around... as if somehow I was hurting her or making her 
unhappy just by being there... What I heard from other friends 
kind of makes me think that might be the case. They said she 
wasn't as wild as she used to be, and that coincides with when I 
left the group scene."

The trip down the memory lane had taken its toll, and I felt 
drained, but also restless. I wanted to stretch my legs, move; I 
didn't want to sit. Perhaps, it was a reminder from earlier 
lessons, teachings from a different era of my life.

_Death is in the stillness, life is in the movement!_

That was what Miyamoto Musashi, _Kensei_--the Great Sword Saint--
had written 400 years ago in his treatise; a book I had to study 
as part of my teachings in a martial art I hadn't been able to 
master completely. I didn't want to think about Musashi. But, as 
with all other memories, these memories got recalled, sometimes 
at the most inopportune moments. I stood up and picked the wine 
bottle from the table. After topping up her glass, I filled up 
mine and set the bottle on the floor next to the armchair. I 
realized Dana was watching me carefully, feeling my restlessness. 
Not to alarm her further, I sat down, and went through my shallow 
breathing exercises, while sipping my wine. From the outside, 
nobody would be able to see what I was doing, except perhaps 
another adept. I didn't want to draw undue attention from her. In 
a few minutes I was feeling better. For all appearances we were 
both in a contemplative mood. When I looked at Dana, she took it 
as a signal, starting the conversation again.

"She hasn't changed... it seems. She's still moving from 
relationship to relationship," Dana said.

"I know... well, I'm kinda guessing... It just doesn't make 
sense. It never did. Was she ever happy in these last few years?" 
I asked, curious how she had been the last four years or so.

"I don't know her that intimately, but if I have to take a 
guess... no, she hasn't been. You're right about that."

"I guess I was just one of a pretty long list. Later, I realized 
that she must have been hurt... badly, before she met me. I think 
she was using people, including me. I wasn't experienced enough 
to see that, and now, in hindsight, it's kinda obvious. I loved 
her other side, the loving, caring side, and the vulnerability 
she tried to hide. Perhaps, that was what made me fall in love 
with her... there was this fragile beauty, her vulnerable side, 
like a delicate flower."

I took a sip from my glass, collecting my thoughts. "For a short 
while, I was angry... at her. Angry that she pushed me away, but 
I got over that quickly. Much later--after our break-up--I 
figured out how much she must have been hurt. I didn't know how 
or by whom. That's when I got angry with myself... First, I had 
failed to see her hurt, and second, I hadn't been able to... 
help. Worse, I had given up, quit on her. That anger helped me 
over the years... to survive the emptiness..." I finished with a 
tired sigh.

I let my head rest on the back of the armchair, looking at the 
ceiling for a few seconds, then closed my eyes. Dana was quiet 
for quite some time, going over what I told her.

"Mitch?"

"Mmmm..."

"What happened this afternoon?"

"Huh?"

"What happened this afternoon? You two were together. What did 
you talk about?"

I ran the whole episode in my mind trying to recall every detail, 
before I answered her. I finished telling my little guessing game 
about her relationship with the older pilot and her response, and 
was going to continue with the rest of what happened, when Dana 
interrupted me.

"She said... _what_?"

"She said that 'he loves her and she finds it comforting'."

"Who loves her?"

"One of the pilots she is currently involved with? Somebody quite 
a bit older than her?" I replied.

I was going to get on with my tale, but Dana interrupted me 
again. "Mitch? Do you recall her exact words?"

"Is that important?"

"I'm not sure... humor me, will you?" she said, with a half 
serious, half joking tone.

"Ummm... I asked her if she loved him and told her that I didn't 
need an answer, but she needed to find the answer for herself. 
She ignored me and told me that I was almost right on my guess. 
Then she said: 'This time it's different; he loves me and it is 
comforting'," I replied, recalling the moment with an uncanny 
clarity.

How could I forget? It was the moment that brought the point 
home... that she hadn't changed!

"I remember it clearly, because it was the moment that made it 
clear she hadn't changed, confirming my suspicions. I was almost-
-" I barely caught myself in time.

"You were almost?" Dana insisted.

"It's nothing."

"Mitch, please tell me. This might be important. On this one, 
trust me... please?"

"It saddened me. I felt like crying and I didn't know if I could 
control myself. I didn't want to break into tears in front of 
her. So, I excused myself from the table and went to the rest-
rooms. There, I managed to control myself, and after washing my 
face I came back."

"You did not cry?"

"No. I did not. Is it important whether I cried or not? You 
guessed that I cried a while ago... Well, it caught up with me 
eventually... here in the hotel," I replied, getting upset.

"Mitch, I wasn't trying to embarrass you," Dana said, softly. "I 
was trying to figure out what happened, and both of your 
reactions. You're forgetting something... I told you that when 
she came to the crew lounge she disappeared for a short while, 
then returned with fresh make up and red eyes. I am pretty sure 
she had been crying."

"I'm sorry... It's been a long day..."

"I understand... I really do... I don't know how to ask this, but 
I need to ask something. I don't want you to get upset about it, 
OK?"

After taking a deep breath and letting it out, I nodded.

"Good, Mitch, try to relax. I studied nursing for a year--quit 
before I became a flight attendant--so I know something about 
trauma, extreme stress, and reactions. If the crying that caught 
up with you here was bottled up from that moment at the airport, 
you must have had a very significant emotional stress. How did 
you manage to keep it under control at the time?"

"I don't like to talk about that."

"Why?"

"I am sorry."

"It's a medical curiosity, not a personal one. I remember how you 
looked in the airport, and how you looked after the shower when 
you walked into this room."

"It's... something like meditation... Does that help?"

"I see... Yes, that does answer some questions. Thank you. So... 
what happened next?"

I wasn't aware of what I was doing. Almost on autopilot, I 
recalled the memory of the afternoon, and what we talked about, 
and the final point of our goodbye. While I went through the 
scenes in my mind's eye, I gave her an almost verbatim account. 
When I managed to pull myself from the past and return to the 
present, she didn't say anything. I looked at her, and found her 
taking occasional sips from her wine glass, while giving me 
curious glances.

"Is... is there something wrong?" I asked.

"No, nothing's wrong... It's..." She hesitated for a few seconds, 
before asking, "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"The things you told me... the afternoon, as if watching from a 
distance, and with so much clarity?"

_Ahh! My curse._

"It's... It's part of that meditation thing. I can recall a lot 
if I pay attention. Certain things are easier to remember... like 
hurt, or happiness."

_Especially if I had been in the moment!_

"And you also remember the times with her? The shared moments, 
happiness, hurt?" she asked.

I nodded.

"What a burden," she said softly, her tone sad and sympathetic as 
well.

If I didn't know better I would have agreed with her. But, 
nothing is simple; nothing is black and white. Yes, those 
memories had been a huge burden at times, but they had given me 
relief as well. The happy memories, they were treasures. The 
painful memories, they gave a meaning by contrasting the 
happiness. I have come to realize the duality of its nature. Yin 
and Yang. On the other hand, nobody needed that kind of recall--
including me.

"A rose is not a rose without thorns," I said to give her a 
different perspective.

She nodded her understanding.

"But you're right; nobody needs that kind of recall. I know I 
benefited from that as much as I got hurt. I don't know if I 
could do without the ability. It's very much part of me, and I've 
come to accept it."

"Mitch, how clear is your mind? How tired are you?" she asked, 
suddenly with a businesslike tone.

I perked up at the sudden change in her tone, and the question 
she posed. "I'm feeling all right. A bit drained, but that's all. 
Why?"

"Do you need to have some coffee, or a smoke to make yourself... 
I don't know... calm and alert?"

"I can do with a coffee and a smoke. I'm doing fine. Really."

"OK. Let me open a window while you order some coffee. There's 
something we need to talk about," she replied with a cryptic 
tone. I could sense her excitement at something, but I had no 
idea what it could be.

After I ordered coffee, I went to the bathroom to relieve myself, 
and brushed my teeth. I like red wine, but I don't like the way 
it stains the teeth. That done, I washed my face, feeling 
refreshed.



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 5: Revelations



When I returned to the room, Dana was by the window--smoking--
with a cup of coffee on the window sill. I filled a cup for 
myself, and lighting a cigarette, took a position next to her, 
watching the city lights, and listening to the traffic. After a 
few sips, I finished my coffee, and placed it next to her cup. 
There was something nagging at the back of my mind about Dana... 
That kept me coming back to why she was trying to help me, help 
us... But, it kept evading me.

It was Dana, who broke the silence.

"Mitchell, since you seem to have a very good memory, I want to 
check something. Are you sure she was talking about the present 
time, when she talked about the pilot she was involved with?"

"Well, I'm very sure she said 'He loves me'. There was no 
mistaking that... She meant, now. Also, she didn't talk as if she 
was talking about the past. At least that's the impression I got. 
Why? Is it important?"

At my question, she flashed a strained smile, and said, "Let's 
finish our smoke and coffee, then talk about it. There's no need 
to rush things."

I accepted her reasoning, and changed the subject. "You know, 
you're very good. Is it nursing training that makes you so good?"

"Partly, I guess."

"I think, you are a remarkable woman. You're kind, and you care 
about people. What made you quit?" I asked.

"You are an interesting young man, Mitch. You see things others 
don't. Why did I quit nursing school? I guess, I couldn't handle 
the misery and suffering. I wanted to help but... After talking 
to a few nurses, and spending time in the hospitals--observing--I 
realized the pay was lousy, the hours were long, and the 
emotional burden was overwhelming. I was too young to be able to 
deal with it. Now, I get to see the world, different people, and 
sometimes I'm able to do something nice, and help people. Best of 
both worlds."

"I have to say, you're doing a very good job of it. I don't 
talk... about things... and yet..."

As I was saying those words, my mind got busy with her words as 
they seem to ring a bell... the things that were nagging at me 
since the airport... There was a faint glimpse of something... 
but what?

"You are reserved. You don't make friends easily, do you?"

"I used to... well, to a certain degree... But in the last few 
years..."

"I understand... It must have been a difficult period."

"We all carry our own wounds..." I told her, and then on a hunch, 
I added, "You seem to cope with yours very well."

Her eyes shot wide open in shock. I took a step, and pulled her 
against my chest, gathering her in my arms, before she had a 
chance to react. I hugged her to me firmly, trying to make her 
feel safe, secure, sheltered. Leaning in to smell her fragrant 
hair, I whispered, "It's all right, Dana. It's all right. Tell me 
about it."

I kept rocking her, and after her initial shock was over, she 
relaxed into my arms. She looked up to ask, "How did you know?"

"I'm not sure. It was something nagging at the back of my mind. 
How things happened in the airport, then here in the hotel. Your 
apparent concern. And how you seem to understand and how we seem 
to connect... Little things that didn't fit. You are a very 
beautiful and caring person. Very kind and generous. And you 
don't hide those qualities. But, you don't seem to have anybody 
in your life. I couldn't see why, unless... you didn't want them. 
That made me think."

She seemed to accept my explanation. She laid her head on my 
chest, and wrapped her arms around me, relaxing herself into my 
embrace. It felt good to hold her in my arms, and I couldn't help 
but wonder about the differences between two women... and the 
similarities...

_Come on, pay attention. She's not here. Don't day dream! Dana's 
here and she needs you. Now! You know she's worth it. Be in the 
moment._

My inner voice was right. I needed to be with her, right this 
moment. After several minutes, she extracted herself from my 
arms, giving me a rueful smile.

"I think it's my turn to ask; do you want to talk about it?" I 
said, trying to lighten the mood.

Her smile was much warmer, but she replied, "Not yet." Seeing the 
disapproving look on my face, she added, "But I promise, I 
will... OK?"

"I will hold you to that."

That earned me a laugh, "Somehow I know you will, so I won't even 
attempt to evade."

I took hold of her hand and gave it a kiss, sharing a tender and 
special moment. Picking our cups, we took our respective seats, 
me on the armchair and she on her bed.

"You said she was hurt," Dana said, "and perhaps using the men. I 
think you are right. From what I had seen of her relations, she 
moved on without a second thought, but..." She paused to think 
about what she wanted to say next, and continued with a question. 
"Did you ever wonder if she was self-destructive, perhaps 
punishing herself?"

_Huh?_

I wasn't expecting that question, because it came from left 
field, without any warning at all. I could hear the gears turning 
in my mind to assess the question, looking for clues, trying to 
come up with an analysis.

"Stop! Mitch, stop. Don't rush it."

As soon as she had my attention, she urged me to calm down. "Easy 
Mitch, take your time."

"You caught me with that question. What made you ask that?"

"I'll explain, but you need to be calm. There's something you 
don't know. It kind of changes the picture. I don't want you to 
get worked up, and lose concentration or... get your hopes up."

_Hope? Get my hopes up? For what?_

I was getting agitated by her cryptic words, but remembering her 
warning, I tried to calm myself. I closed my eyes, and took a 
walk along the beach, doing my shallow breathing, and watching 
the sunset. Strangely enough, I managed to do my exercise very 
quickly, maybe because I was with a friend, and in a place where 
I felt comfortable, safe and secure. When I opened my eyes, I saw 
her watching me. She got off the bed, and knelt by my side. 
Taking hold of my wrist, she found my pulse... and measured it. 
When she was finished, she was chuckling.

"Strong and steady pulse. Lower than normal, as if you're 
resting. Is it difficult to learn?"

"The basic part isn't. It's a matter of breathing evenly, and 
conjuring a place you feel comfortable, relaxed, and safe. There 
are advanced levels of breathing exercises, and techniques to 
empty your mind, or help you conjure up a place. I haven't 
learned all the mental techniques, I just know a bit about how 
they are supposed to work. But, I have good memories of places 
that I can recall and concentrate on. I know some of the 
breathing exercises. You might want to pick up Yoga. It teaches 
you how to relax your muscles, and how to breathe."

I knew some advanced mental techniques, but I didn't want to talk 
about them. I had experimented when my training required, but I 
hadn't felt comfortable. I had put them aside long time ago, and 
never picked them up since then.

"Did you practice Yoga?"

"Uhh.. No... not really."

_Go, it was long ago! It had scared the shit out of me that first 
time, when I had touched 'it.' The second time hadn't been bad. 
At least, I had discovered its true nature..._

_But, what use is it to go there? Unless, I need the edge. 
Perhaps, Sensei was right when he said I would find it if I ever 
need it._

I had kept at it a few times more, practicing, getting to know 
_it_, but still, I had been reluctant in my forays, before I 
finally quit all together.

She gave me a quizzical look, but decided not to delve further. 
Picking up an ashtray, she placed it on the nightstand, where she 
could reach. She lit a cigarette, passed it to me, and lit 
another one for herself. I wondered if the gesture was to make me 
feel more comfortable. If it was, she was doing a very good job 
of it.

"Are you afraid of shocking me?" I asked.

"Was I that obvious?" she responded, amused.

"No, not really. I think I'm recognizing patterns."

"I see... Well, it isn't really shocking, though it might give 
you a surprise. Mitch, what I'm getting at is, she was lying when 
she said she was involved with a pilot. We've been flying 
together frequently over the last several months, and she hasn't 
been involved with anybody... definitely not anybody from the 
crews. She doesn't flaunt her relations, but she doesn't hide 
them either. With the amount of time we've spent together lately, 
I don't see how she could keep a relationship so secret. She was 
keeping busy with the work, and that didn't leave her much free 
time. Come to think of it, she wasn't partying as much as she 
did, and her last fling was almost half a year ago or so."

That was indeed a surprising revelation.

"So, what do you think is happening?" I asked.

"There is definitely a break in the pattern. She never went more 
than a month or two without getting involved with somebody. I had 
seen that myself, and I hear things. It's a small world. 
Everybody knows everybody."

"She might have one-night-stands in the meantime, but the general 
pattern seems to have changed." I was thinking out loud, without 
realizing what I said.

"Yes, I would say so. There is another thing," she said, grabbing 
my attention immediately with the tone of her voice.

"You remember that I told you she probably cried when she 
returned to the lounge?"

I nodded.

"I haven't seen her cry over anybody. She would shrug, and say it 
was fun while it lasted, and move on to the next relation. Most 
of the time, she was the one who broke off relations. Her 
reaction to you, lying about a non-existent relationship, and her 
later behavior in the lounge are contradictory, unless... 
Considering all I've heard from you and what I know about her, if 
I had to take a guess, I would say she has feelings for you, 
Mitch. She probably has had them for a long time."

"I'm not sure I follow your reasoning. I know I felt something 
from her, but her signals were clear. She wasn't interested in 
pursuing _us_, and she didn't want me to pursue _us_. I think we 
both know that she knew how I felt about her then, and still do 
now, even though we didn't talk about it."

"That's where it gets a bit... complicated. I think it has 
everything to do with her past, and your earlier history. You 
were correct when you said she was hurt, and that made her 
change, become a user."

"We agree on that, but how does that relate to what you said?" I 
asked.

"In the dance of mating, the male is supposed to be the 
initiator, the hunter, and the female is the hunted. In reality, 
the female decides whether she'll take a male as a partner or 
not. However this doesn't change the fact that male is the 
aggressor, so to speak, whether he'll be successful or not. Are 
you with me so far?"

I nodded.

"Now, in most cases the dance is more complicated. Both partners 
step forward and backward, testing the waters, and the chemistry 
between them, trying to find a suitable rhythm if there's one to 
be found. In her other relations, she allowed herself to be 
chased and captured. In your case, she was doing the chasing. 
 From what I heard about your earlier history, she was the 
initiator. She decided when to move to the next step. That means 
she was interested in you. Of course, you must have chased her, 
but you were taking a more passive approach, whereas she was 
taking a more active role. This happens, but not so regularly and 
consistently. There's always a role reversal along the way, 
sometimes several role reversals. In your case, that never 
happened, at least until very late."

"So you're saying, because I never took the initiative, she lost 
interest, and moved onto other men..."

"That could happen, but I don't think that's the case here. You 
are forgetting she was a user before you, and she continued to be 
a user. She might have used you, but I don't believe that. First 
of all, she seems to recognize that you two had some kind of a 
chemistry. Her mood change indicates that. Second, letting her 
take the lead, you forced her to take the initiative. She could 
have easily moved onto somebody else; give another guy a signal, 
then let him chase her. That was more her style. If she saw you 
as an interesting challenge, then of course, she would go after 
you, taking the initiative. The thing is, she knew you were 
interested in her, and serious about her. In a way, you were 
chasing her but not actively. Are you with me so far?" she asked.

"Yes, I see what you're saying. But, she changed as soon as I got 
serious, so in a way, as soon as I took the initiative she 
started to push me away," I said.

"Yes, she did. The thing is you never changed. When she was 
flirting with other guys, you didn't judge her. When she turned 
her attention back to you, you were there but letting her be. She 
initiated the intimacy and decided how you two interacted. That 
was one constant. The other constant is her reaction to you. You 
said, the very first moment you two met she took it slow, almost 
cautious, compared to how she was with other people when she met 
them the first time. I think she recognized the chemistry, and 
you both come to realize that. And, that _chemistry_ didn't 
change. You said that the last two times when things were cooling 
off were as good as before, and afterwards she was loving, until 
she put her mask back on."

"Yes. They were."

"I think she loved you, Mitch. She discovered that she could love 
and not be used. She was definitely not used by you. Whether she 
was using you or not, she was using the other men, but she was 
also letting herself be used. That's another thing you got right. 
And I believe she must have realized the difference."

"OK. I understand what you're saying. Let's assume she felt 
something for me. But she chose to ignore it, and she kept on 
doing what she used to do... until now."

"Think, Mitchell. I asked you if you ever thought she was self-
destructive," she admonished me sharply.

"You're saying... she wasn't ready for it, or she was scared?"

"Most probably, but there's another possibility. In fact, it 
complements what you said. You told me that she told you she 
wasn't ready for commitment. I guess she was also scared of the 
things you evoked in her... the chemistry. I think that's a real 
possibility. If I hadn't come to know you a bit, I would have 
discarded the description you gave about your intimate moments as 
a figment of your imagination. But, you seem to have a firm grasp 
of what's real and what's imagined. And you are very sensitive, 
however reserved you might act," she said, pausing dramatically 
to make her point.

When I tried to shrug it off, she immediately seized upon it.

"Don't give me that, Mitch. Give yourself some credit. I think I 
have an idea of what you're capable of. What's more, I suspect I 
might be only scratching the surface."

That last remark made me blush with embarrassment.

"No need to be embarrassed about something like that. Just don't 
let that remark go to your head, OK?"

I nodded.

"Where were we? Oh, yes. Scared... That's a real possibility. 
Complementing all that however, is her love for you. I think she 
loved you enough to let you go. When you broke up, she didn't 
chase you back. Do you think you could have resisted if she 
chased you?"

I shook my head. "Maybe I could have resisted for a short while, 
but I think she would have succeeded. Very easily. I loved her."

"And she knew that. She could have used it. Why didn't she?" she 
asked, making her point.

I went over all the things we discussed and what she told me.

"She loved me, and she wasn't ready for commitment. She let me 
go, because she didn't want to hurt me. Hurt me more than she 
already had," I replied.

"Precisely."

"She was already self-destructive, and she felt... guilty... 
about us. So, she kept on punishing herself... Is that what 
you're saying?"

"Something like that. If she didn't feel guilty then, she 
probably did later. I think in the airport, today, she must have. 
Why else would she lie, and try to keep you away, trying to make 
sure you are OK? She still felt something for you," she said.

"She may have broken with her earlier patterns. Six months is a 
long time for her... and the encounter today, brought things 
home?" I added.

"I think so. We might be wrong about some things, but I think 
it's safe to say she loved you and she still has feelings for 
you. Now, she had the chance to pick up the game, and play it 
again. She didn't. The question is, what could you do about it, 
and if she would be willing to participate. There's a real danger 
she might be scared of being hurt, being hurt worse than before, 
and unwilling to take any risks."

Then she gave me a grave look, mixed with apprehension. 
"Mitchell... this is very important! It carries an immense 
responsibility! If you decide to take the initiative... it might 
not only destroy her, but yourself as well," she said, her voice 
laden with sadness and sympathy.

"I know," I said, my voice reflecting the same heaviness. With a 
tired sigh, I continued, "But there's no helping it. I can, of 
course, walk away from it. Considering the alternative and the 
possibilities, that might be best. I have to think this through 
carefully and, now is not the right time for it."

I stood up stretching my legs, then held out my hand to Dana, and 
helped her to her feet. Picking our cups, we made our way to the 
table for a re-fill from the thermos. I offered a cigarette to 
her and lit it, and lit another one for myself. Taking a sip from 
my coffee, I left my cup on the table, and went to the window. I 
opened it wider to get some fresh air. A few minutes later, Dana 
was standing by my side, watching the lights of the city. Some 
twenty floors up, we had a good view.

Although I was watching the view, I was well aware of her 
presence. She was taking care not to invade my personal space, 
even though I could sense her need for contact-- a touch, perhaps 
a hug. She was a remarkable woman, and I gave a silent thanks to 
whoever was watching over me. I went back to the nightstand to 
pick up the ashtray, and returned with it. After putting out my 
cigarette, I asked, "It's cold, isn't it?"

"Not very," she replied.

I stepped behind her, and wrapped my arms around her belly, 
pulling her to my chest. "There. I think you'll feel better."

She sighed and relaxed. I waited until she finished her 
cigarette, but did not release her. "You know what's coming next, 
don't you?"

"I think I have an idea... Dr. Mitchell!" she retorted in an 
amused tone, making me laugh.

"Good. So, you know how doctor patient relations work. Now, this 
doctor prescribes a glass of wine. The patient doesn't complain 
and takes her medicine," I replied falling into the role.

When she turned and looked up, I gave her soft kiss on her 
forehead, and guided her to the bed. Once she was comfortably 
settled there, I took the bottle from the floor and filling her 
glass, I handed it to her. She patted the side of the bed, asking 
me to sit by her side. Then, she told me the story.

It was bad.

About six years ago, she had been dating a guy. Over a period of 
ten months they had fallen in love with each other and decided to 
get married. One night, while he had been away for a business 
trip, she was assaulted and raped by a burglar. Aside from the 
trauma of rape, the doctors had told her she had little chance of 
having a baby. At first, her fianc� had been very understanding, 
and helped her through psychological counseling and therapy. 
However, once she pulled herself through and managed to get her 
life back, he broke up with her, because he had wanted to have 
kids, or so he said. In actuality, that was only one of the 
reasons, because he hadn't touched her since the rape. After the 
break-up, she fell into depression for a while, but managed to 
gather herself again. Since then she had had a few relations, but 
none of them had worked out.

"What about your current boyfriend?" I asked.

"It's not serious yet. It's pretty new, and he knows about my 
past."

"How did he take it?"

"He took it better than most others. He's not concerned about my 
inability to have a child. We're getting to know each other, and 
I get the feeling he is serious, but I'm being cautious."

"That's understandable, Dana. Do you love him?"

"It's too early to say anything. But, yes; I have feelings for 
him. I think he loves me as well. He's been very understanding 
and patient with me," she said pointedly.

"You have not..." I asked.

She shook her head. "We haven't been seeing each other very 
long."

"Are you afraid he'll turn into one of those bastards? Is that 
why you keep him at arms' length?"

"Maybe... I'm tired of relations that don't go anywhere..."

She started to cry. I quickly gathered her in my arms, trying to 
sooth and calm her. Slowly, she quieted down to mostly sniffling. 
I laid her on the bed, and went to the bathroom. I ran the hot 
water and wet a towel, then squeezed the excess water. Picking up 
some tissues, I returned to the room. She blew her nose, then 
used the hot towel to wipe her face. When she finished, she 
picked up her glass, and took couple of sips. Taking the glass 
from her, I placed it on the nightstand.

"Dana, you're a wonderful woman. You are a gentle, caring, loving 
person. And beautiful. Any man worth his salt would die to have a 
woman like you. You've nothing to fear. It's their loss. If my 
heart wasn't already taken, I'd be the first," I said.

Looking at her in the eye, I added, "I might still do that... 
considering the options I am facing at the moment."

That earned me an slap on my arm, and a rebuke, "You don't know 
what you're saying."

"I do! And you madam, are getting feisty before I even proposed. 
No wonder..." I quipped.

"You are terrible," she said with a small laugh.

"Yeah, I know. What can I say?" I retorted.

Then, on a more serious note, I said, "You know what I mean. You 
are a wonderful woman. I'm not saying this just because of all 
you've done to help me. I'm glad I've come to know you."

Gathering her in my arms, I gave her a kiss on her forehead. When 
we parted, she looked relaxed and happy to have unburdened 
herself and shared with me. I was glad to have known her, but a 
bit sad that I couldn't do more for her. I didn't know how to 
help her. I hoped that what she had shared with me helped her.

"Thank you, Mitch. I'm glad to know you as well." Checking the 
time she said, "It's getting late. I think we should get some 
sleep."

"Will you be all right?" I asked.

"I'll be fine, Mitch, how about you?"

"Oh, I think I'll be asleep before I touch the pillows. You want 
to use the shower first?"

"No. You go ahead, get some rest," she replied.

Giving her a goodnight kiss, I went to the bathroom for a pit 
stop, and a quick shower. Finished with my ablutions, I knocked 
at her door, telling her the bathroom was available, and headed 
into my room. Wearing only my boxer shorts, I crawled in between 
the cool sheets.

_Finally! A comfortable bed, and sleep!_

Those were the last thoughts before I fell into an uneasy sleep.



* * * * *


(continued in next part, 3/5)
<2nd attachment end>


<3rd attachment, "tfauc-pt-02.txt" begin>






Title: Tales from an Unknown Corner
Chapters: 06-11 (of 20)
Author: Dai_wakizashi
Universe: Tfauc
Summary:  Journey of a troubled young man looking for a path and 
people around him, who, at times, give shape to his journey.
Codes: MF, FF, MFF, oral, anal, toys, petting, romance, drama
Status: in progress
Revision: 2.0

Web Sites:
  ASSTR-  http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/dai_wakizashi/www/
  SOL-        http://storiesonline.net/home.php
  EWP-       http://www.ewpub.org/ewpub.html

Discussion Forum:
   http://www.ewpub.org/messageboard/viewforum.php?f=76

*****************************************************************

STANDARD DISCLAIMER

This piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment. It 
contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are 
offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT 
read any further.

All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to any 
persons, places, individuals or situations is purely coincidental. 
The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the 
activities described in this story.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without 
the written permission of the author, Dai_wakizashi 
(dai_wakizashiAThotmailDOTcom).

This story may be freely distributed with this disclaimer 
attached.

Copyright (c) 2003-2004 Dai_wakizashi. All rights reserved.

*****************************************************************



              TALES FROM AN UNKNOWN CORNER  [Tfauc]



CHAPTER - 6: A Gift



My sleep was restless. At one point, I remember feeling a cold 
draft on my back. While I was slowly rousing up from my sleep, I 
felt the bed sag and a warm hand running on my back in a soothing 
manner, massaging. Then there were the whispered words, "Sssshhh! 
Just relax, and sleep," repeated like a mantra, urging me back to 
sleep.

I remember the hands being replaced by the warmth of a soft body 
molding itself against my back, spooning. An arm encircled my 
body, tender fingers caressing my chest, lulling me to sleep with 
their gentle caress while cuddling me. The rhythmic blow of hot 
air on my neck and shoulder from the steady breathing, 
interspersed with soft kisses... urging me to relax and sleep. I 
was too tired to respond, and the almost hypnotic manipulations 
of the hand and the whispers were difficult to resist. I was 
enveloped by the warmth of a female body, giving me shelter and 
guiding me into a deep, dreamless sleep. Somehow I knew I was in 
the care of loving hands. That was the last thing I remembered.

Several hours later, I woke up, coming out from deep sleep. The 
transition was gentle, going through gradual steps, from sleep to 
half-awake to fully awake, with a dreamy quality... a very 
pleasant experience compared to how I usually woke up at the rig-
site--a sudden lurching wakefulness. Before I woke up completely, 
I knew Dana was spooned behind me. Her breasts were soft pillows, 
the heat of her lower belly warming my lower back, and her arm 
clutching me with a gentle hold. I listened to her steady 
breathing, content to be in her arms, her body a warm comforting 
presence. I felt at peace, with myself, and with the world.

As my senses came fully awake, I opened my eyes. A full moon was 
supplying the illumination through the half-open drapes, bathing 
the room with a soft, diffuse light. I knew I was well rested, 
and couldn't go back to sleep. Yet. I was undecided, caught 
between wanting to soak and lose myself in the feel of this 
gentle woman, and wanting to watch her sleeping form in the soft 
moonlight filtering into the room. I didn't want to disturb and 
wake her up prematurely, so I stayed in the bed for quite some 
time. Eventually the decision was taken out of my hands, when 
nature came calling.

I extracted myself gently from her embrace, being careful not to 
disturb her, and got out of the bed. After the pit stop, I 
decided to brush my teeth and tongue to get rid off the dead 
mouse that seemed to have found a home in my mouth. Back in the 
room, I moved the armchair to face the bed, before taking a seat. 
I watched her sleeping peacefully, with her hair half spread on 
the pillow, and half covering her delicate features. She was a 
vision of beauty, but that was pale compared to what I had come 
to know; her inner beauty, the gentle, loving, caring soul she 
had shared with me. As I thought about what she had gone through, 
my anger flared at the unfairness of it all. She was a rare 
treasure, not only as a woman but as a human being. As I 
continued to watch her sleeping form, I slowly came to the 
realization that anger had no place, here, in this room, 
especially in her presence, and I let it go. That was a surprise, 
because I had very rarely let go of my anger before, usually only 
when it had started to overwhelm me. Most of the time I 
suppressed it, or kept it under careful control, always close by, 
at my call.

_What did you do to me, Dana? You, sweet, gentle soul... what 
kind of magic have you used on me? Thank you... I wish I could 
help you some way. I'm sorry I haven't been much of a help to 
you._

With these thoughts running in my mind, my heart ached for her 
and her pains. At first, I didn't notice it, not until my vision 
got blurry. Even then, my first thought was I must be getting 
sick. When I felt the first drops of tears on my chest, I 
realized, I was crying. I ruefully thought, 'I'm turning into a 
regular crybaby,' but I didn't fight it. It was a quiet cry, the 
tears running steadily, until they came to a stop on their own. I 
wiped my eyes, and cheeks, then took a quick look at Dana and saw 
her still asleep.

I was ready to go back to bed, but there was one more thing I 
wanted to do before that. I wanted to remember her, as she was 
now, an angel sleeping. All the time we've spent together was 
already in my recollection, but I didn't want to leave anything 
to chance. If over time some of them faded, I wanted a special 
one that would stay with me for a long time. She was one of those 
rare people with whom I felt a special bond. I wanted to make 
sure that this moment was captured; a small part of her forever a 
part of me.

I regulated my breathing, and went about clearing my mind. Once 
that was done, I let what my eyes were seeing fill in the empty 
space. Then recalling memories of her voice, her fragrance, the 
feel of her body as I held her in my arms, the heat of her body 
as she spooned with me, I added them to the image. When I was 
satisfied with the results, I cleared my mind, and after several 
deep breaths, I stood up and stretched my muscles. Now, I was 
ready for a couple more hours of sleep.

I carefully got into the bed on Dana's side, with the intention 
of spooning with her, but I realized my body was ice cold. 
Pulling the sheet and the blanket over me, I waited until my body 
was warm, and rolling on my right side, I gently molded my body 
behind her. At the contact, she started to rouse, almost waking 
up, but then relaxed to my embrace. My left arm encircled her and 
she instinctively moved my hand to her right breast, and pressed 
her body against my chest. Pushing her ass back, looking for more 
bodily contact, she molded herself to me. I realized she was 
half-awake. I heard a soft sigh escape her lips, and in a few 
minutes, she faded into a deep slumber, her breathing steady and 
slow. A while later, I fell asleep, cuddling an angel that had 
crossed my path.



* * * * *



I must have moved sometime during the night; when I woke up, I 
was on my back. Dana was on her side, half draped on my body, her 
head resting on the crook of my arm, her right arm thrown 
carelessly on my chest, and a firm breast pressing against my 
right side. She had her right leg over and entwined between my 
legs, her hot juncture and pubic hair resting on my right thigh. 
To my consternation, I realized she was completely naked. At 
least I had my boxers on.

It was early morning and dark, with little illumination. I 
guessed the full moon was probably setting down. When I turned my 
head to inhale her fragrance I felt her hand move, drawing, 
tracing patterns. I responded by caressing her from shoulder to 
hipbone with my left hand. She looked up with sleepy eyes.

"Good morning, beautiful," I said.

She raised herself a bit and slid up, her right hand brushing my 
cheek with her fingers. "Good morning, handsome. How did you 
sleep?"

"Like a baby. How about you?"

"Best sleep I've ever had," she replied giving me warm smile, 
then put her head on my shoulder. Her right hand was busy 
caressing my neck, and down my shoulder and chest, tracing 
patterns, raising goose bumps with her featherlike touch.

"Do you mind that I came to your bed?" she asked.

"No. Just surprised," I replied, wondering why she had.

Perhaps she heard my unspoken question, or perhaps she wanted to 
explain herself, because she said, "I couldn't sleep for a 
while... restless... decided to check on you, and you were having 
an uneasy sleep. I guess I felt lonely and wanted the company as 
well."

I kissed her on top of her head, but then I chuckled at the 
thought of spending the night with this gorgeous woman, 
remembering we had chosen a suite to have privacy.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh! It's nothing."

She rose up, looking at me. "Come on, fess up. What's so funny?"

"It's your question. How can any man, let alone a 25 year old 
hormonal guy, mind spending the night in the arms of a gorgeous 
woman like you?" I replied.

She gave me an admonishing look. Then, softening her expression, 
she said, "You aren't hormonal, Mitch. You are a gentleman. 
Otherwise I wouldn't have been here."

I offered sincere thanks for her compliment. She had an 
unreadable expression on her face, and her eyes seemed to be 
searching for something... but for what, I didn't know.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded, giving me a smile, "I've never been better." Then she 
lowered her face, and kissed me on my lips, taking me by 
surprise. It was a gentle, caring kiss, but there was a subtle 
hint of passion that made my blood course faster, waking me up.

Pulling back, she gave me the same searching look, then her face 
broke into a smile, her lips curling with amusement, as if she 
knew something that I did not. "There is a lot that can be said 
for being a gentleman, but... like anything else, it shouldn't be 
taken to excess."

I looked at her and blinked, confused, before...

_Is she saying what I think she's saying?_

She lowered her face and gave me another kiss, full of passion, 
taking my breath away, and bringing my blood to a boil in mere 
seconds. I sure was awake if I hadn't been before. When the kiss 
ended, I was panting, and I could feel my pulse in my temples. 
Her heat on my thigh was already starting to burn me. I saw her 
self-satisfied smile at the effect her kiss was having on me. I 
gave her a questioning look, but all I got in return was a small 
nod and a soft smile. Before I could react, she straddled me, and 
lowering her torso to my chest, she started rubbing her erect 
nipples against my chest.

I wanted her... but this was going too fast. I wanted to slow 
things down a bit. More importantly, I wanted to make sure this 
was what she really wanted. I pushed myself up to an almost 
upright sitting position. Then I wrapped my left arm around her, 
pinning her torso to mine. Using my right arm as a pivot, and my 
legs as leverage, I quickly but carefully flipped and rolled our 
bodies, getting a surprised shriek for my efforts. Once she was 
on her back, I extracted my left arm behind her back, and put my 
hands on either side of her torso to support myself, looking at 
her.

She was watching me with curious eyes, although her desire was 
clear. Putting my arm down to support my weight on one elbow, I 
lowered my body, and with my free hand, I brushed her temple, 
down her cheek, neck, and then up behind her ear. When I leaned 
for a kiss, her hands reached to clutch my neck and pulled my 
head down. She kissed me with a fierce passion and hunger. There 
was no question about what she wanted, but my overworking mind 
was questioning her motives. As the kiss ended, I looked in her 
eyes searching for answers.

Sensing my hesitation, she reined in her passion, and asked, 
"What is it... Mitch?"

"You don't know how happy I am to get to know you. You'll always 
be a part of me, Dana. Whether we do something or not." I 
replied.

She gave me a brilliant smile. "I know that. And I am happy to 
get to know you. You'll always be part of me, but... but, I want 
to have a special memory from you. Of you."

I sensed that was what she wanted, and her eyes were telling me 
the same thing and more. She knew years from now, I would 
remember what we were going to share and that was what she 
wanted. Her gift to me. The emotion of the moment caught me like 
a violent storm, and I felt my eyes getting moist.

"Mitch. This is not therapy. This is happy making, and I want 
this to be my gift to you as well as your gift to me," she said, 
and pulled me down for a soul kiss, making me lose myself in her.

When the kiss was over, I lifted my body, and sitting on my 
heels, took a good look at her.

"I think I'm overdressed for this party," I said, and went about 
removing my boxers.

She spread her legs in invitation, feet firmly planted on the 
bed, and knees raised. I could already smell her arousal. On my 
knees, I crawled between her legs, and hunched over her body, one 
arm supporting my weight on the side of her torso. I brushed my 
fingertips, tracing soft, teasing patterns from her forehead to 
her cheek, then to her neck. Down to her shoulder, I moved to her 
collarbone, then headed south to her tits. She had great tits, 
full, firm, yet they were soft without being saggy or flat. 
Lowering my lips, I gave teasing licks to her left breast, 
evading the nipple. Making small circles, my tongue moved closer 
to her nipple. After licking her areola, I moved to her right 
breast, repeating the same pattern. Her breath was catching and 
she raised her chest urging me to take her nipple, her hand 
reaching out to pull my head down to her breast.

I quickly raised my head. Getting hold of both her hands, I 
gently crossed them and held them above her head with one hand. 
Transferring my weight to that hand, I had my other hand free to 
stroke and tease her breasts. When I was restraining her hands, I 
paid careful attention to her reaction, looking for any signs of 
anxiety; her violent experience in the past not far from my mind. 
She wasn't scared being under my control, but she was getting 
impatient. To appease her, I quickly captured one nipple, gently 
licked it, and closing my lips around it, applied suction. When 
it was hard, I gave little nips with my teeth. Her back arched, 
and I could hear her breathing getting heavy. She had sensitive 
nipples. Turning my attention on the other nipple, I licked and 
sucked it to hardness.

Her hips were active, rolling, twisting. I spent several minutes 
teasing her breasts and nipples, using my hand, and lips, and 
tongue. Lowering my body, I let her nipples dig into my chest 
while kissing. By Gods, did she know how to kiss!

Lifting off her, I let go of her hands, but she kept them there, 
watching my next move. Kneeling, I rested my weight on one hand, 
and I ran my fingers under her breasts, cupping them and pulling 
her nipples, gently twisting them. Then I traced my fingers down 
her sides, and onto her belly, feeling it contract. I moved down, 
kissing and licking as I went. Soon I was settled between her 
legs. Bypassing the strategic places, I started with the insides 
of her right thigh, licking, kissing, and running the back of my 
finger and nails over her smooth skin, making her shiver. I 
repeated my attentions on the other thigh and, sensing her 
impatience, I relented.

I moved my hand to her pussy, which was clean shaven except for a 
narrow patch of hair over her mons. Her labia were already 
swollen, and seeping some moisture. I slid a finger between her 
folds, collecting her dew, and ran it along her slit, parting her 
lips, drawing a soft gasp. I could feel her heat, and I couldn't 
wait longer to taste her, so I leaned forward to kiss her labia. 
Extending my tongue, I licked from bottom to top, trying to get a 
good taste, while spreading her lips further, and felt her 
shudder. Her oils were light, almost watery, and tasted great. I 
started to work on the inner lips, giving quick licks, and her 
hips started to get active. I applied a little suction on her 
labia, slowly making my way to her clitoris, which was peeking 
out from its protective hood. Licking around it, I gave it a soft 
swipe with the bottom part of my tongue, making her jerk. I put 
my hands on her inner thighs, and spread her legs further. She 
raised her hips and her hands clutched my head, guiding me to 
lick her the way she wanted. I followed her lead.

While my tongue was busy, I removed one hand, and slowly inserted 
a finger. She was tight and hot. And very wet. The abundance of 
her oils helped me to penetrate her channel easily. I slowly 
stroked my finger, and added another finger... and rotated them. 
Forming a hook, I went looking for the 'on' switch. If what I had 
read in Playboy was true, her special spot should be somewhere in 
the roof of her channel. Concentrating on what my fingers were 
'seeing', I continued my search until I came across a bumpy spot 
that felt different than the surrounding area, when she gave a 
little yelp. I gave a soft experimental rub, and almost got my 
lips cut when she suddenly jerked her hips up, with a shriek.

_Yayyy! Jackpot!_

I moved my hand from the insides of her thigh to her belly to 
restrain any violent reactions as much as possible. I started 
licking and sucking around her clitoris, with an occasional 
direct swipe, and rubbed her special spot with my fingers. Her 
hips went crazy, rolling and jerking, her hands pulling and 
pushing my head, almost ripping my hair. There was no way I could 
restrain her violent reaction, so I just tried to keep my mouth 
and fingers in place. I was enjoying myself too much, so I didn't 
let go.

Her little shrieks changed to soft mewling sounds. I eased up a 
bit to let her catch her breath, before resuming my attack with 
increased vigor. She started a soft wail, and her hips started to 
shake, and I could feel tremors running across her belly. Her 
hands pulled me hard to her pussy. She slammed her hips to my 
face... and she froze, giving a moan that ended with a small 
scream.

I felt her pussy fluttering around my fingers, as her channel got 
even wetter. Her hands pushed my head away, and taking the hint 
her clitoris was feeling sensitive, I focused my attention on her 
labia and inner lips, while stroking my fingers very slowly, 
giving occasional and featherlike rubs to her special spot. She 
was panting as if she had finished a 100 yards dash interspersed 
with occasional mewls. I gave her soft slow strokes with my 
fingers, and once her flutters stopped, I pulled them out slowly. 
Giving a long swipe with my tongue, I probed inside her channel 
as far as I could, enjoying her taste. I finished my attention to 
her pussy with soft licks. When I looked up, her eyes were droopy 
as if she was ready to fall asleep, with a contented smile on her 
lips.

I kissed my way up her body. Supporting myself over her, I leaned 
in for a kiss, wanting to lose myself in her. Her arms came up, 
encircling my back, and she pulled me down... hard... surprising 
me with her strength. This lady was a real tiger. All my weight 
was on her, her breasts crushed under my chest. When I tried to 
lift myself up, she was having none of it, insistently pulling 
down, so I succumbed, luxuriating in the lush feel of her body. 
Then she locked her lips to mine, and gave me one of her 
passionate kisses, making me forget everything.

When the kiss ended, I was hot as a firecracker, my erection 
throbbing with urgency against the inside of her thigh. I was 
scared I would pop before I had a chance to get inside her. It 
had been quite a long time for me, and what's more she was way 
beyond any girl I had been with. I lifted up my body, keeping 
contact with her breasts. Then it occurred to me I had to get to 
my suitcase for condoms. I never thought I would get lucky, and 
now I was caught unprepared. I was pondering how to get to them 
without breaking the mood, when she noticed something was up. She 
gave me a questioning look.

"I-I... ummm... I hate to break this moment, but I need to get to 
my suitcase... for condoms," I said.

"Mitch, are you clean?" she asked.

I nodded.

She said, "I'm also clean. It's been quite a while, and I have 
always been careful."

When I gave her a questioning look, she nodded.

"I think we know each other well enough to trust. I want you like 
this. I want to feel you... all of you inside me--flesh-to-flesh. 
Is that all right?" she asked.

Instead of answering her, I kissed her. While we were kissing, 
her hand reached down, and I lifted my hips to allow her hand 
some room. Finding me already hard and ready, she rubbed the head 
between her folds, coating it with her oils, then guided me into 
her entrance.

When I eased forward, I felt her wetness and heat. With short 
strokes, I started to slide into her tight channel, taking my 
time to make sure I was properly lubricated. She was really 
tight, but I could feel her trying to loosen to ease my entry and 
her wetness helped. She felt like liquid heat. I hadn't felt that 
kind of heat before, but then I had not been with too many women. 
Pulling her knees up more, she placed her heels on my buttocks, 
urging me to go deeper. Completely inside, I took a look at her. 
Her blue eyes were intense pools, full of passion and warmth. I 
felt I was drowning in a sea of love. I wanted to kiss her, but I 
knew if I did, I would lose it before I even started making love 
to her.

I started with short strokes, and when I felt her get used to me, 
switched to long strokes at a slow pace, enjoying her slick 
channel and heat. I changed between long and short strokes, 
making sure I was grinding my pubic bone to stimulate her 
clitoris. Her hips were rolling and twisting and then, I felt her 
use her inner muscles, catching me by surprise. She was already 
tight to start with, and when she started using her inner 
muscles, there was no way I could last, so I buried myself in her 
depths and stopped my strokes. She urged me with her heels, and 
threw her hips at me, but I ignored her.

Giving her an earnest look, I said, "If you want to enjoy this, 
you have to ease up on me, OK? Otherwise, I'll pop very quickly. 
It's been a long time, and you're feeling fabulous. I can't last 
if you keep that up."

She stopped massaging me with her inner muscles and let me drive. 
When I calmed down, I started to stroke again at a slow pace, and 
kept it up for quite some time, changing the pace and the length 
of the strokes. Supporting my weight on one arm, I teased her 
breasts. Then, hunching, I sucked on her nipples, nipping them 
with small bites. Lowering myself, I kissed her neck, while 
rubbing my chest on her nipples. I could feel she was getting 
closer, and I was moving along as well. I wasn't sure if I could 
hold out until she came, so I slowed my pace further. But this 
time, she was having none of it, and urged me on.

"Mitch, please. Let go. I want you to let go," she said.

When I didn't comply, she threw her hips at me, trying to fuck 
me, while rolling them. As if that wasn't bad enough--or good 
enough depending on your point of view--she started using her 
inner muscles, again. When I gave her a warning look, she 
answered with a remorseless grin. I could feel the tingling 
sensation at the root of my cock, and knew I was getting ready to 
unload. To distract her, I took several short hard strokes, and 
was pleased to see her catch her breath. For a moment she 
faltered with her internal massaging and eased up on me. So I 
kept up the hard short strokes. But with her tightness, I was 
getting there faster. The stimulation was too much. I was 
desperately trying to find a way to make her come.

Pulling her knees more, she locked her feet on my lower back, 
which tilted her hips, changing the angle, and allowing me to 
penetrate deeper than before. I took couple of hard short 
strokes, taking advantage of the position, and then with a long 
slow stroke I penetrated as deep as I can. I didn't want to come, 
yet.

"Come in me, Mitch. Give it to me," she said softly.

I was struggling to keep myself from unloading in her, and I saw 
her give me a shake of her head as if to say 'don't hold back.' I 
gave her a pleading look, but for all my trouble she answered 
with a grin like a cat that's about to swallow a mouse. Seeing 
how much she wanted it this way, I gave up my efforts to control 
the burning feeling in my balls, letting out a resigned sigh.

"Yesss. I want it... all of it," she said, her throaty voice 
driving me crazy with desire.

To make her point, she gave a teasing, almost playful smile and 
started to milk me with her muscles, making me squeeze my eyes 
shut with pleasure, and drawing out a moan. I opened my eyes, not 
wanting to miss her eyes glittering with arousal. She was really 
enjoying making me cry with pleasure, and I found myself lost in 
her blue eyes, letting her carry me over. When she felt me pulse, 
her face lit up in joy, and she pulled me in for one of her soul 
kisses. It was an overwhelming experience. The combination of her 
kiss and the milking actions felt like I was being drained at 
both ends. Like a candle being burned at both ends. As my pulses 
weakened, she kept her milking action, drawing out my pleasure.

Then, I felt her moan in my mouth, and she broke the kiss. Her 
hands moved to my shoulders and her fingers dug in painfully. She 
looked like she was having difficulty breathing. Then her back 
started to arch, and her nipples dug into my chest like hard 
pebbles. I lifted off her body, supporting my weight on my arms, 
to allow her to breath more easily. Her eyes closed, and she 
sucked in her breath, before starting a soft wail. I felt her 
pussy flutter, not the regular massaging she had been doing, but 
erratic flutters. Realizing she was coming, I ground my pubic 
bone into her, trying to stimulate her clitoris. The way she 
arched her back offered her breasts to my tender mercies, so I 
took advantage of the situation. Hunching myself, I captured one 
erect nipple and sucked at it... hard. Then nipping it between my 
teeth, I pulled it gently, making her scream. Switching to her 
other nipple, I repeated the treatment. Then she relaxed, and 
sank into the bed. As she was starting to come down, I licked her 
breasts and suckled her nipples. When she opened her eyes, their 
intensity fixed me. They were enormous pools, and I felt like I 
was drowning in their depths. So blue, azure blue and swirling... 
I could feel the after effects of her orgasm, the ripples in her 
belly, and the occasional trembling that coursed through her 
body.

I leaned for a kiss, and she grabbed me in a fierce hug, pulling 
me down hard, wanting my weight on her body. I acquiesced, and 
while lowering my body, slid my hands under her, taking my weight 
on my elbows, and hugging her. She writhed, rubbing her breasts 
against my chest while locking her lips to mine for another of 
her trademark kisses. It left both of us breathless and panting. 
I felt like I had gone through the wringer, completely drained, 
and drowsy. I didn't want to fall asleep. Especially with my 
weight on her body. I started to kiss her neck and shoulder, 
luxuriating in the lush feel of her body.

"Stay inside me, Mitch," she whispered.

For several minutes, we stayed like that, entwined. She unlocked 
her feet and put her heels on my ass. I was semi-hard, going 
soft, and she started to massage me with her internal muscles, 
making me gasp. I licked behind her ear, and nuzzled her neck, 
making her shiver.

I gently admonished her. "Behave."

Even though I was enjoying her attentions immensely, I wanted to 
catch my breath for the second round.

She laughed, and with a playful tone she asked, "Am I too much 
woman for you?"

I rose up, and looking straight in her eyes, I replied, "You know 
you are."

We both knew the score there. I was happy that she had come, and 
I wasn't bothered that I lasted such a short time, and came 
before she had.

She cupped my face in her hands, and giving me a loving look. 
"Ahh! Sweetie. I didn't scare you, did I? You're fun. Much more 
fun than you can imagine. I loved it."

Then moving her hands to my neck, she pulled me in for another 
kiss. By Gods, I never enjoyed kissing as much as I did with her. 
She gave me a couple of hard grips using her inner muscles, 
making me pant in her mouth. When we broke the kiss, my head was 
spinning. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she kept her 
gaze on me, and started to roll her hips suggestively, making us 
both break out in laughter. I hadn't recuperated yet, I needed a 
bit more time. I'd never had a partner like her before, with such 
control of her vaginal muscles. Her playful nature, how she 
shared herself with me, endeared her to me, with the other things 
I felt for her. I wanted to cuddle with her, and enjoy the feel 
of her body.

"Can we change position... you know roll over, so you're on top? 
I want to cuddle, and feel your body on mine."

"As long as you stay inside me," she replied.

Carefully we rearranged ourselves, so that we could roll over 
without breaking our connection. Once I was on my back, she 
reached for the sheets and the blanket, pulling them over her 
lower back, before draping herself over me. Then she put her arms 
on my chest, crossing them and resting her chin on them.

"Why didn't you let me drive? You almost missed it," I asked.

She gave me an amused smile. "I had already come, if you 
remember. And I was so hot to have you come inside me... I 
_really_ wanted to feel you coming in me. I knew you might not 
last, and wanted to drive you crazy."

"Well, you did."

With a self-satisfied grin, she said, "Good. It was a trip. You 
may not realize that, but it was a real trip, doing that for 
you."

I could see her point. It had been a trip, and she had enjoyed 
it. That wouldn't have changed if she hadn't come.

I felt her grip me. When I gave her a questioning look, she 
replied, "Oh, I don't think we are finished yet," like a spoiled 
child who had been given a new toy, making me laugh.

"Gods, Dana. I may be young and hormonal, but I'm not sure I'll 
survive you," I retorted.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you survive. That's another thing 
you'll come to know. At a certain age, we get to be insatiable, 
but not too insatiable to waste a stud like you," she replied, 
with a teasing grin while she continued with her internal 
massaging.

"I think I'm getting the idea," I retorted. Then in a more 
serious tone I added, "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you, 
Dana. I'm not talking about what we did, although that's part of 
it."

When I raised my head, she leaned, and we shared a soft kiss.

_Could I say it? Should I say it? If I can't say this to her, 
then to whom can I say?_

"I love you," I whispered.

Her eyes widened for a moment, then she gave me a long appraising 
look.

"I love you too, Mitch... but--"

I shushed her. "One has nothing to do with the other. I know how 
I feel about you... and her. I love you. You'll always be a part 
of me."

I cupped her face, giving her a look that said I meant it. I was 
coming to realize the depth of my feelings for this woman, and 
when I thought about it, the intensity of my feelings surprised 
me.

"I'll never have enough of you. What we shared is only a small 
part of that. You have a piece of my heart. I can't change that. 
I don't want to change that," I said with a conviction born out 
of certainty about my feelings for her. With that, I wrapped my 
arms around her, caressing her back.

She put her head down on her arms, and relaxed into my cuddle, 
but I sensed she was perturbed. I didn't want her to think and 
worry about our little exchange. Moving a hand to her neck, I 
massaged several spots softly. There were several nerve bundles 
that if stimulated in the right manner helped a person to relax 
and fall asleep. I hadn't used the technique before, but with the 
post coital glow and lethargy, I thought it would work on her, 
and make her fall asleep or at least relax.

Unfortunately, she wasn't as lethargic, and after five minutes 
into the massage she asked, "What are you doing, Mitch?"

"Sssshhhh! Just relax. This will help you rest for a short while, 
and you need it. Trust me."

She gave a sigh, and let herself be guided to sleep. A little 
later, she was breathing slowly, sleeping. Grabbing hold of the 
sheets and the blanket, I pulled them over her shoulders, 
covering us. My hands were busy running on her back, easing her 
into deeper sleep, and after a while, I followed her blissfully 
into sleep.



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 7: Surrender



I woke up to a strange sensation of being tickled. When I opened 
my eyes, I saw her watching me with amusement. I realized she had 
been using her hair to tickle me, running it on my shoulder and 
face. The room was awash with light, and I realized the sun was 
up.

"Feeling frisky?" I asked.

She laughed, then replied, "No. Your friend woke me up!"

To make her point she clutched me a few times, and I realized I 
was still inside her and erect.

"Sorry. What can I say? I don't think I will ever have enough of 
you, Dana."

Sliding up a bit she gave me a passionate kiss, then looking in 
my eyes, she said, "I love you too, Mitch."

I cupped her face, and said, "I know." Then our lips locked, and 
she brought me to a burning fever, my penis throbbing inside her. 
When we broke the kiss, I asked, "Do you want to drive?"

She smiled and nodded. We were glued, so she went about getting 
us unglued. Once she accomplished that, she rose up and pulled 
her knees to the sides of my pelvis and straddled me. Grabbing 
hold of my penis, she lowered herself, taking me inside her. Once 
I was buried deep inside, she made small sliding motions, rubbing 
her mons, trying to stimulate her clitoris while clutching me 
with her inner muscles. She varied her moves by rolling her hips, 
or with side-to-side, back-to-forth rocking motions, taking her 
time to bring us up.

I was busy cupping and massaging her breasts, teasing her 
nipples. When her breathing changed, I slid one hand to her 
juncture and rubbed my thumb over her clitoris, wanting to bring 
her over. She shook her head, but I smiled and ignored her. I had 
enjoyed her playfulness, coming to appreciate how great it could 
be. What's more, I wanted her to have a taste of her own 
medicine, although I wasn't exactly sure if I could pull it off.

_What the hell. Go for it. The worst that can happen is she'll 
fuck you to death. There are worse fates._

The thought made me smile, but Dana took it as a challenge and 
gave me a warning look. When I stuck my tongue out, she started 
to laugh, her tits quivering in a fetching fashion... Yummm!!!

She leaned in for a kiss, and when our tongues started to duel, 
she captured my tongue between her teeth, giving it a nip, then 
released it. Breaking the kiss, she lifted up, holding herself 
hunched over me with her hands on the sides of my torso.

"That was a warning, Mitchell. Don't fuck with me," she said with 
a playful tone.

"I am not fucking with you. You're fucking me... Well, that's not 
exactly true. We are making love."

However, as if to contradict myself, I gave her long and hard 
strokes and kept applying pressure on her clitoris with my thumb, 
making her arch and offer her breasts. Not missing the 
opportunity I raised my head to capture her nipple, then applied 
a gentle suction, and raked it with my teeth. I heard her pant 
and gasp, but did not let up in my ministrations. I wanted to 
feel her come. When she started to shake, I took long slow 
strokes, moving her along and felt her freeze in mid-stroke. I 
buried myself as deep as I could and, switching nipples, nipped 
it lightly while my thumb went crazy on her nubbin. I felt her 
inner muscles relax and then flutter like crazy. Her breath 
caught, then she let out a moan. When I saw her arms shaking, I 
pulled my hand from her clitoris, and held her under her armpits 
with both hands, supporting her weight, and gently lowered her on 
my chest. Reaching down, I cupped her ass cheeks, and gave her 
short hard strokes to keep her going. When her trembling started 
to subside, I stroked her back and brought her down.

A few minutes later, she raised her head, and asked, "Did you 
have fun?"

"Look who's talking?" I retorted.

She answered with an unabashed smile, then said, "It was fun, 
wasn't it? Now. I want you to fuck my brains out and come in me."

"I would love to, but first, I need to make a pit stop and have a 
sip of water or something. I'm thirsty. How about you?"

"Yeah, I'm thirsty too, but I want to keep you inside me. It 
feels soooo good."

"Mmmmm... Same here. I can wait. Love this."

About ten minutes later, I knew I couldn't postpone the call of 
nature. She realized the problem, and with a resigned sigh, 
lifted her hips, releasing me from her warm shelter. She was 
still playful, though. She gripped me while pulling off.

"You know, that stunt will make you wait even longer," I said, 
good-naturedly.

"You are _mean_," she retorted.

"It's got nothing to do with being mean. I just can't go when I'm 
this stiff," I replied.

"Damn! I didn't think about that! Oh, well," she said, shrugging. 
"If I must, I must." However, her eyes were smoldering with 
arousal, contradicting her words.

"Yeah? Than I am the Pope," I retorted, teasing her.

Laughing, she came back with, "I don't think so. Otherwise you 
wouldn't be standing at attention."

I know when I'm licked, so I shut my mouth, and headed for the 
fridge. Taking some ice and a bottle of water from the fridge, I 
went about filling two glasses. I returned the bottle into the 
fridge and closed it. Taking the glasses, I went back to Dana.

Before I gave her the glass of water I leaned in for a kiss, and 
she sat up to kiss me. When our lips met, I moved my hands to her 
tits, with the glasses still in my hand. She had great tits... 
with lovely nipples... and I wanted to see them perky and hard. I 
was hoping she wouldn't get too angry with me. When I touched her 
breasts with the cold glasses, she gave a shriek, and jumped 
back. Quickly I stepped to the side, and put the glasses on the 
nightstand. After her retreat she was moving in to hit me for my 
stunt, so I caught her arms, and crossing them, I held them above 
her head with one hand. She struggled, but couldn't escape my 
grip. Looking at her eyes, I moved my other hand to one of her 
breasts... slowly. She started to struggle, trying to escape my 
grip, so I stopped the advance of my hand. When she stopped her 
struggling, I eased my grip on her wrists, and then freed them 
from my hold. I waited for her reaction.

She put her hands on the bed, watching me, and I slowly moved my 
left hand to her breast. When she didn't move, I gently cupped 
her right tit, and felt her shudder from the cold. While rubbing 
her nipple between my fingers, I reached for one of the glasses 
and took a sip, catching a piece of ice. Turning back to Dana, 
who was watching me with curiosity, I leaned in, and gave a cold 
lick to her other tit, making her shudder. She wasn't aware that 
I had the little piece of ice in my mouth. Gently sucking her 
nipple, I let the ice slide over my tongue, and pressed it 
against her nipple. I felt the little nubbin swell and harden 
and, removing my lips, I chewed the ice and swallowed it. 
Capturing her nipple, I gently sucked and nipped it with my 
teeth. And felt her shudder, again.

Easing my attentions, I looked up at her. "Dana, if you haven't 
realized it by now, I'm a tit man, and I couldn't resist that 
stunt with your great tits. I love seeing them so perky, and your 
nipples so hard."

Then reaching for the other glass, I gave it to her. Picking my 
glass, I downed it, leaving the few cubes in the glass. Tilting 
it to my palm, I got the cubes, then taking a deep breath, I 
cupped the ice cubes to my cock and balls. At first, it was a 
shock, but it wasn't that bad. When I was a teen, I had ice cubes 
dumped in my swimming trunks more times than I care to remember. 
I had also done it to friends many times and, as they say, 
paybacks are a bitch. Seeing what I was doing, Dana gave a gasp 
when I cupped my balls and cock with ice cubes in my hand. Before 
the cold got bad, I removed my hand, feeling my erection wilting.

Seeing the curious look in her eyes, I said theatrically, "The 
things we do in the name of love..."

She let out a laugh. "Well, if you haven't done that, I was 
planning to do the same... after the stunt you pulled on me. 
Paybacks and all that..." she retorted with a snicker.

"You wouldn't..."

"You want to try me?" she dared.

I didn't, and putting the glass on the nightstand, I went to the 
bathroom. After relieving myself, I stepped into the shower, to 
wash away the dried cum and her juices. The warm water felt good 
after the ice cubes. Drying myself, I returned to the room, 
finding Dana waiting for me sitting on the edge of the bed with 
her legs spread and feet on the floor. Her pussy lips were 
swollen, and slightly spread. Her tits looked perky and her 
nipples were very erect. Her eyes were smoldering in arousal and 
expectation, with a mischievous twinkle mixed in.

She directed me to stand in front of her. I was wary of what she 
had planned for me but curious as well, so I stood in front of 
her. She told me play with her tits, and I touched them gently. 
They were cold, and I realized she had used the ice on her tits. 
The nipples were diamond hard. When I cupped her tits, and 
started tweaking her nipples, she gave a sigh of pleasure. My 
hands were warm from the shower, and to her cold tits, they must 
have felt hot. Keeping eye contact with me, she reached out to 
hold my semi-erect penis. I steeled myself for the cold feel of 
her fingers, but was surprised to feel warm fingers gripping me 
gently, making my penis throb at her touch.

She gave a small smile at my surprise, and then opening her mouth 
wide, she took me inside, without letting me make contact with 
her lips or tongue. Then she sealed her lips, and swirled her 
tongue around my penis, making me yelp with surprise. Her tongue 
and mouth was cold. Not only that, but there were small pieces of 
ice on her tongue, probably from a piece she had chewed. She had 
a very talented tongue, and with her soft lips she was applying a 
nice suction, making me swell despite the cold feel of the 
melting ice and cold tongue. Her eyes were laughing at me, 
satisfied that she had caught me unawares. Since I was semi-hard 
she easily swallowed my whole length several times, sucking and 
licking and swirling her tongue. As I hardened, she let out more 
and more of my length. I was panting, and gasping with her 
efforts, and my legs were starting to shake. The cold and warmth, 
the suction, and the teasing tongue had me hard in no time.

Opening her mouth wide, she tried to take as much of my length 
inside as she could, letting me slide on her tongue. Then closing 
her lips, she let her tongue go wild, and slowly pulled back 
applying a strong suction, making me moan. It felt like she 
wanted to pull my balls through my cock. When I popped out of her 
mouth, the head of my cock was an angry purple, swollen, and 
throbbing. I wasn't anywhere near coming, but her efforts had 
given me a rock hard erection.

"Mmmm... Looks ready for action," she said.

"I don't think so," I replied, and when she gave me a questioning 
look, I said, "It is only half ready without your soul kisses."

"You like them?" she asked.

"They take my breath away."

When I leaned to collect my kiss, she locked her lips, and in a 
few seconds had me burning with fever.

When I stood up, I pointed to my erection, which was harder than 
ever. "See. That's what you do. But that's nothing compared to 
what you do to my insides or to my heart."

She leaned and placed a soft kiss to my belly, pressing her check 
against my stomach. She wrapped her arms around my lower back. I 
put my hands on her shoulders, rubbing and massaging, when I felt 
her tremble. I didn't realize she was crying, until I felt the 
wetness on my stomach. Concerned, I extracted myself gently from 
her arms, and knelt between her legs. Cupping her face in my 
hands, I looked at her.

"Dana... what's with the tears?"

"You make me happy."

I wiped her tears with my thumb, and kissed her. "Are you sure 
they're happy tears?" I asked.

"Yes, they are, Mitch. I'm really happy. "

After giving me loving kiss, she said, "You will make me much 
happier in a few minutes." She continued with a throaty tone, "I 
want it hard and fast," emphasizing both words and hitting 
something primitive inside me.

Then she moved up the bed. Settling comfortably on her back, she 
pulled her knees to her tits with her heels on her buttocks. 
Holding onto her knees with her hands, she spread her legs. The 
view she gave was almost obscene, wantonly displaying herself, 
offering her womanly charms unabashed. I could see her labia 
swollen and spread open, giving me a peek at her pink interior. 
The way she offered herself without reservation, and the way she 
was inviting me into her body made my blood boil, and I was 
having difficulty to control my urge to pounce on her and pound 
her to oblivion. She knew the effect she was having. Even if she 
hadn't said what she wanted, her actions would have conveyed her 
meaning.

With a knowing smile, she teased me. "See something you like?"

The tone of her voice combined with the smell of her arousal, and 
the view she was giving me made my nostrils flare with desire, 
and I wanted to ravish her. But, I didn't want to hurt her. I 
knew even though she might be slick with her juices, she was 
tight, and I couldn't just jump on the seat and start pounding 
her into a mush. What's more, I didn't want a fast fuck, I wanted 
to make soft, sweet love to her.

Her words gave me an opportunity to slow things a bit so, giving 
her a growl, I said, "Yep. My breakfast and I'm very hungry."

Cupping her sex as if to protect it from my attentions, she said, 
"Oh, no, you don't. I'm not clean and I'm burning. I want you to 
take me. Hard and fast. Please?"

_Give her what she wants. That's what she wants!_

My inner voice was right. It wasn't my decision. She had stated 
what she wanted, and was offering her body the way she wanted, 
without any reservation.

_What a woman!_

I nodded my agreement, and crawled onto the bed.

"I want to ravish you. You don't know what you're doing to me. Or 
may be you know what you are doing," I said with a growl. "But I 
want to make sure you're ready. I don't want to hurt you, OK? I 
love your taste, and I want to sample it. May I? I'll give you 
what you want, but I want a small snack before that," I added 
with a smile.

"Not too long! I can't wait. I'm too hot," she said, while 
removing her hands and placing them on her legs to keep herself 
spread open.

I knee walked and cupped her cheeks. Before I dug in for my 
breakfast, I saw the half-full glass of iced water on the 
nightstand, and had a brilliant idea--to cool her off a bit. 
Sitting back on my heels, I asked for the glass of water. She put 
her feet on the bed, twisting to reach for the glass, when she 
realized what I was planning. Turning back to me, she shook her 
head, denying my request. When I insisted, she gave a resigned 
sigh, and reached for the glass. Just when she had it in her 
hands she stopped for a moment as if something occurred to her 
mind, and put the glass back on the nightstand.

She lay back on the bed, gave me a mischievous smile, and said, 
"Leave it for the time being. I have a better idea."

When I gave her a questioning look, she laughed, and then said, 
"It's a surprise. You'll like it. In fact, we will both enjoy it. 
Trust me. It's going to be great. Come. Eat me."

I was puzzled by her cryptic words, and was curious about her 
surprise, but she seemed very enthusiastic about what she 
planned, so I decided to follow her lead. When I lowered my lips 
to her pussy, her smell took my breath away, hitting me like 
lightning, making me throb with desire. I could feel her heat 
without touching her. Her clitoris was already out of her 
protective hood. She was really ready. I wanted to loosen her so 
that I wouldn't hurt her when I was inside her pounding away.

Dipping my tongue inside her channel, I collected her oils, 
enjoying her taste, and started to lick away at her inner lips, 
making her tremble. Then slowly I inserted one then two fingers, 
and went about loosening her tight channel. She was burning 
inside. I was tempted to rub her special spot and make her come, 
but I knew that wasn't what she wanted. Still, I wanted to give 
it a try. Raising my head, I looked at her, my fingers busy 
stroking slowly. I rotated them and forming a hook, I touched her 
spot, making her hips jerk. She shook her head, "Please, don't."

I nodded and slowly removed my fingers. She was ready as she 
could be, and I wanted to be inside her. When I moved up her 
body, she stopped me.

When I gave her a questioning look, she said, "Time for my 
surprise."

She directed me to stand on my knees, and sitting up, she took 
the glass, and took a sip of water and an ice cube. Chewing the 
ice, she reached for my cock. Cupping my balls, she gave a smile, 
and I knew what she was planning. She was going to blow me with 
the melting ice and water in her mouth. She had done that before, 
so I didn't understand what's the big surprise, but decided to 
let her continue with whatever she planned. It was sure to be 
something.

As she took my cock in her mouth, the cold made me shiver. Her 
mouth wasn't cold enough to wilt my erection, even when she 
pressed her tongue with the melting ice pieces against it. It was 
an exquisite feeling, like the previous time. Her tongue was very 
active, teasing me, while she applied a gentle suction and 
stroked me up and down. She stopped to take another sip with more 
ice, and went about giving me an ice blowjob. Taking me as deep 
as possible she applied stronger suction, and pulled up, letting 
me slide over her tongue, and popped me free from her lips. She 
put the glass back on the nightstand and rearranged herself as 
before, knees drawn to her tits, legs spread wide.

"Now, you're ready. I want you to take it slow. When you are all 
the way in... then you can start... flailing away!" The last quip 
was delivered with a teasing smile.

I tried to give her a hurt look with puppy dog eyes, but she was 
really funny, and I couldn't hold myself and burst into laughter.

"You know, you're really wild," I said, when I caught my breath.

"I know. You make me wild and hot as a firecracker. Come on, 
stud. Time's a wastin'," she replied.

At her 'hot as a firecracker' comment, I remembered how hot she 
was inside her channel, and then it dawned on me... what she had 
planned for us. With the ice blowjob, my entire dick was cold. It 
was getting warmer, but she made sure she had lowered the 
temperature quite a bit.

_Holly shi-- She'll kill us both. The heat of her slick channel 
on my dick, and the coldness of my dick inside her pussy will 
shock us senseless._

My eyes must have widened with my realization, because she gave a 
knowing smile and said, "It's going to be a trip, and I can 
hardly wait."

"Gods, Dana! You want to kill us both?"

She nodded playfully. "You didn't think I would let you fuck me 
to death without killing you as well, did you?"

I quickly positioned myself over her, my arms supporting my 
weight on the sides of her torso, with her knees tucked under my 
arms, and said, "I hope we won't end up in the front page of a 
tabloid. 'Couple found dead while fucking each other to 
oblivion'. I can see the caption and a juicy picture with 
relevant parts censored," I quipped.

She laughed at the mental image I was painting for us. Reaching 
down she guided me to her entrance, while saying, "Then we better 
hurry. We wouldn't want to disappoint the readers, would we?"

As I had suspected, before the head made contact between her 
labia, I could feel her heat. She felt like a furnace. At the 
first contact we both hissed. Then my glans parted her lips, and 
entered, and it felt like I was dipping into molten lava. Dana 
tilted her hips, to give me an angle that provided the deepest 
penetration... and the most sensation. She was very wet, as was 
my cock from the blowjob, so I pressed in slowly, savoring the 
sensation and making both of us moan. When I was all the way in, 
I ground my pubic bone against her, making her sigh in pleasure 
and close her eyes. Before the temperature between my cock and 
her channel could adjust, I pulled back slowly, till I was at her 
entrance, and waited for a few seconds. Wet with her juices, and 
out of her hot channel, I let my cock cool off, before plunging 
back slowly. I wanted both of us to enjoy this new experiment as 
long as we could.

I repeated the full strokes, staying out of her for a few seconds 
before entering her slowly. As she said, it was a real trip. She 
was shaking and trembling, her head rolling from side to side, 
her breath coming in short gasps and pants. After several 
strokes, I buried myself, and held inside her while waiting for 
her to catch her breath. When she opened her eyes, they were 
heavy with arousal, smoldering, and she gave a long sigh. When 
she was breathing normally, I quipped, "The experiment was a 
success, and we didn't lose any guinea pigs."

She laughed at that, then retorted, "You think so," and I could 
hear the unspoken, 'but you are sadly mistaken'.

She must have caught what I was thinking in my expression, 
because she gave a knowing, playful smile, and licked her lips. I 
knew what she wanted, so I leaned in for a kiss. Releasing her 
hold on her legs, she brought her hands and clutched my head. 
While she was sucking the life out of me with a passionate kiss, 
she started to roll her hips and clutch me with her pussy, making 
me scream into her mouth. Then putting her hands on my shoulders, 
she broke the kiss.

When I managed to catch my breath, she said, "Now, buster. Start 
pounding that pole. Make me scream. I want it hard, and fast. No 
gentle stuff, OK?"

And that's what I wanted to do. I could hear the blood boil in my 
veins, and my pulse throbbing in my temples. Not only that, but 
my cock was rock hard and wanted to plow her insides. When I 
started to pull back, she stopped her clutching, so I could 
stroke fast. I started with slow short strokes, then built up to 
longer, harder strokes. Each time I plowed in, she gave little 
yelps, and she started a string of obscenities, urging me on. 
When I increased my pace, she started to pant and gasp. Her 
litany was replaced by mewls, and short screams. Her channel was 
looser from all my pounding, and I hoped she wouldn't be sore. My 
balls were wet with her juices, and we could hear the liquid 
sounds of our joining. Her heady smell was all around us, 
increasing my arousal.

When I switched to short and hard strokes, she caught her breath, 
and she started a wail that turned into a scream. Her neck and 
face was flushed, and with a sharp shriek, she started to shake 
and tremble. Her pussy gripped me hard, halting my movement, but 
I forced myself all the way in. When my pubic bone hit with the 
momentum of my stroke, she gave another scream. Then her pussy 
went wild, and her channel got even wetter. I started strong and 
long strokes to keep her going, but with the flutters, and her 
tightness, my pace was erratic, even though she was very wet and 
slippery. Slowly, the flutters ceased, and I managed to keep a 
steady stroke, reducing my pace, trying to enjoy the friction 
created by her hot channel.

She was coming down, but her breathing was still erratic. I 
switched to short, hard strokes, trying to make myself come, and 
she started to wail again, her head shaking side to side, her 
hair whipping around. I kept up my stroking and in a few minutes 
I was ready to blow my load. I knew she was close so I slowed to 
long strokes trying to hold myself. When she felt me slowing she 
started to throw her hips, but because of the position she was, 
she didn't have any leverage. Sensing she wanted it hard and 
fast, I increased the pace of my strokes again, hoping she would 
make it before I came. I felt the head of my cock expand, and I 
knew there wasn't anything I could do to stop the oncoming flood. 
I pulled back till I was at her entrance, and plunged down hard 
into her depths, and she screamed.

I was pulling for a second hard stroke, when I felt her grip me. 
With difficulty, I pulled all the way back, then forced myself in 
as far as I could, drawing another scream. I felt her relax her 
grip and quickly pulled back again, and I felt the heat move from 
my balls and travel the length of my cock. Quickly, I plunged 
back into her depths, drawing another scream, and stayed there. I 
felt the first burst and it made me shudder with the sensation or 
pent up release, then her flutters started, milking me. It was 
very intense, and my arms started to shake and I could feel a 
dull pain where her fingers dug into my shoulder. I rested part 
of my weight on her knees, almost collapsing from the sensation. 
My pulses were over, but her erratic fluttering kept me hard, and 
made me tremble. There wasn't anything left inside me to pump, 
but my cock was still throbbing, helped along by her amazing 
pussy.

A few minutes later, my breathing was returning to normal. I rose 
up on my hands, taking my weight from her knees, which were 
pressed hard against her tits, bending her in half. Dana's eyes 
were squeezed shut, her nostrils flaring. Her panting was 
interspersed with soft moans. Her body was still trembling, and 
her fingers were claws on my shoulders, clutching me hard. 
Transferring most of my weight to one arm, I reached to stroke 
her face, and slowly her breathing got steadier. After a minute, 
her eyes opened slowly, but her eyes were unseeing at first. When 
she managed to focus on my face, she gave a tired smile. She 
tried to wet her lips with her tongue, but gave up. Wetting my 
tongue, I leaned and tried to wet her lips with my tongue, then 
locking my lips, I dueled with her tongue, while breathing into 
her mouth.

When I broke the kiss and took a look, her eyes were closed. She 
took several breaths and then opened her eyes. She looked 
incredibly beautiful. Enormous blue pools, softened by the 
lethargy, held me captive in their depths, and I felt my semi-
hard cock throb. Feeling me throb inside her she gave an 
appreciative moan, and her eyes closed. She tried to clutch me, 
but couldn't pull it off. She must have been really exhausted. I 
throbbed again, drawing a moan, and her eyes opened in alarm. She 
tried to glare at me, but when I throbbed, her eyes closed, with 
her body shivering at the sensation. Taking pity, I quit teasing 
her, and gave a soft kiss.

Lifting my body, I tried to free her knees and legs from under my 
arms, so that she could let them down and stretch. At first, she 
didn't realize what I was doing, but when I used my hand to 
gently push her knee, she got the hint and let her legs spread 
comfortably.

Finally, she was somewhat back to her senses, and opening her 
eyes, she gave me a look of unadulterated joy, turning my insides 
to mush. She released her death grip on my shoulders and tried to 
hook them behind my neck, but they flailed lifelessly and slid 
down my arms, catching us both with surprise. Seeing her so 
exhausted, I smiled at her with a self-satisfied expression. She 
tried to grimace, which made me grin, and she gave up, closing 
her eyes. I knew she was trying to marshal her energy to come 
back at me. She was a fighter. Before she could start anything, I 
tried to throb and ground my pubic bone. Her eyes opened in 
panic, and she moaned softly. Seeing the helpless look, I nodded 
in understanding and quit my efforts.

Once she was feeling more alive, I leaned, and she gave me a long 
soul kiss. Before it ended, she gripped me with her pussy, making 
me moan into her mouth. I didn't return the favor by throbbing 
inside her. Breaking the seal between our lips, we both sucked 
air and continued to kiss. My position was a bit awkward, 
hunching and leaning down, so I lowered my body, sliding my hands 
behind her shoulders, taking my weight on my elbows. When my 
chest made contact with her tits, she sighed, so I put some of my 
weight on her, enjoying the feel.

When we broke the kiss, I was surprised to see her leak around 
her eyes. I suspected they were happy tears, but still I was 
concerned. When she opened her eyes, they were moist, brimming 
with more tears. I gave her a questioning look, but she replied 
with a smile. It assuaged part of my worries, but I wasn't 
convinced. This was strange. There was something else mixed with 
happiness. Trying to figure out what was hidden in the depths of 
her eyes, I went over what we had shared, but I couldn't come up 
with any answers. On the other hand, I had discovered that my 
feelings for her ran deep, very deep indeed. I was captivated by 
this wonderful woman, wanting to be with her more than once, and 
my want wasn't just sexual. I wanted to spend more time with her, 
and get to know her better.

We both wanted to have a happy memory, and the sex had been fun 
and loving. However, even though it was supposed to be light-
hearted fun, it had become something more than either of us had 
planned. There was something deeper, a connection, hidden beneath 
all the fun and games we played. In some ways, sex is the most 
basic communication between two people. How she responded to me, 
how I responded to her... and then... those kisses... her gentle, 
caring nature... generosity... the empathy we had... the little 
things...

Now, I was discovering a deep connection that I had rarely felt. 
She was the second woman that made me feel this way. Home! I knew 
I had given a part of my heart to her, and now, I realized I 
wanted to give her more than that. I wasn't sure if I was falling 
in love with her, but I knew I loved her. I had known it when I 
had first woken up during the night.

_How is it possible that I can fall in love with two women?_

I leaned for another kiss. Instead of one of her soul kisses, 
this was more restrained, as if she was holding herself back. 
When we broke the kiss, I looked up. Her tears had subsided, but 
her eyes were still moist--with a soft expression in them--and 
she was watching me carefully.

"What is it, Dana? Are you sorry?"

She shook her head.

"Can you tell me?" I asked.

When I saw she was trying to work out an answer, I insisted, more 
gently. "Dana, after what we shared... I'm inside you... feeling 
your heartbeat, and heat... What is so terrible... that you can't 
talk to me about?"

Cupping my face in her hands, she said, "I don't want you to fall 
in love with me. I don't want to fall in love with you."

_Ahhh. So it's mutual. She felt the connection._

"You know how I feel about you. I can't change that. I told you I 
don't want to change that... even if I could," I replied.

Fixing her with a gentle look, I continued. "I ignored or tried 
to ignore my heart for a long time. Look what it got me. I'm not 
going to make the same mistake again. Love is too precious a 
thing to discard carelessly. We both know that score."

"But..." she tried.

"I know it complicates things... for both of us. We'll take our 
time... we will figure out something."

"It's not fair to her," she came back.

"It's not fair to you... or me for that matter. She's not here. 
I'm here. You are here. I know that you don't want to come 
between us. And I don't want to come between you and your 
boyfriend. But, we shared and found something in each other. We 
can't set it aside as if it had never happened... Let's cherish 
it?"

I could hear the wheels turning inside her mind. She was caught 
in what we had shared... Something far beyond what we had 
planned... but was it really like that? Why had our paths 
crossed? How had we moved along paths that brought us here, and 
now? She was trying to fight it, because it was going to 
complicate both of our lives tremendously. But then, wasn't 
anything worthwhile always complicated? If it were easy, would it 
be worth anything?

Strangely enough I didn't feel any guilt. Not even about 
affecting Dana's life and her ongoing relationship. Perhaps, 
because I was seeing myself when I looked at Dana and what she 
was trying to do.

"Dana," I called out softly. When I had her attention, I said, 
"It's too early to know or understand the nature of our feelings 
or what we want. I understand your apprehension. Neither of us 
planned for this to happen. I don't want to force you... I don't 
want to lose you... whatever happens. I just know... I love you. 
I want to get to know more about you. Is that wrong?"

At that, she closed her eyes, letting the teardrops trickle from 
the corners of her eyes. I squeezed her tightly, then freeing my 
arm from under her, I brushed away her tears. I finished by 
kissing her eyelids, waiting for her to calm down. When she 
opened her eyes, they were clear. There was still doubt, but also 
a determination.

"I love you. I know that, now... But, I'm... I'm scared of 
falling in love with you," she said.

She brushed my cheeks with her fingers, and fixed me with a soft, 
loving look. "I tried... I tried really hard... but I love you," 
she said.

Suddenly, something else clicked in my mind.

"Was that why you wanted to have... a hard and fast fuck? To keep 
it light, casual?" I asked.

Instead of answering, she closed her eyes for a brief moment.

"Did it work?" I asked.

"No," she replied with a resigned whisper. "I realized I wanted 
to be yours. I wanted to give myself to you. Taken completely."

"And I'm yours," I replied.

She pulled me for a gentle, loving kiss, without any 
reservations.

When we surfaced to catch our breath, she asked, "What were you 
doing, up in the middle of the night?" changing the subject.

"I-I was... memorizing you."

Drawing a blank look, I elaborated. "I didn't know if I would 
ever see you again. I wanted to make sure I would have a special 
memory that would not fade over time, if other memories faded. I 
wanted a part of you, and seeing you sleeping like an angel... 
are you angry?"

She smiled at that. "No. Besides, now, you have more than you 
bargained for, don't you?"

"You knew that... your gift..."

She nodded. She knew what she was doing at the time.

Just then, my stomach grumbled, embarrassing the hell out of me. 
"That wasn't very romantic. Sorry."

She laughed and said, "You can't subsist on love, or sex, alone. 
I'm hungry too."

Giving me a long look, she continued, "I... I want what you want. 
I want to make love, slowly. But we'd better get some food before 
that. Otherwise... my sexual demands will kill you." Then, she 
started killing me softly with a gentle kiss.

"Shower?" I asked. When she nodded, I raised myself and pulled 
out of her slowly to sit on my heels. Seeing her eyes shut, I 
took a quick look at her vagina, which was red, and looking a bit 
rough.

"Are you OK?"

Opening her eyes, she gave me an assuring smile. "A bit sore, but 
good sore. It's been a long time, and I had forgotten how good it 
can be." Fixing me with a lecherous look, she said, "And I want 
some more... sore or not."

I got off the bed, and helped her to her feet. Her legs were a 
bit wobbly, and I had to support her.

"I don't want to fall in the shower. I think you better help me," 
she said.

The next twenty minutes were slippery fun in the shower. She had 
been fun in the bed, but she was just as much fun in the shower, 
funny, teasing, and loving. I was almost tempted to take her then 
and there, but I didn't want to spoil her plans for after 
breakfast. I couldn't keep my hands off of her, and she loved the 
attention. After we toweled each other, we returned to her room. 
I sat with a towel wrapped around my hips--tented with my hard-
on--while she was getting dressed. She was amused to have me 
sitting there watching her, but she knew I was enjoying myself--
and her. When she finished dressing, we shared a quick kiss and I 
made my way to my room to get dressed, letting her get on with 
her preening. When I was putting my moccasins on, she walked into 
my room.

_God! She is breathtaking._

I gave her an appreciating look, drawing a self-satisfied smile.

"You look beautiful. Ready for breakfast?" I asked.

"Thank you. You don't look bad yourself, sailor" she replied. "Do 
you want to go to the hotel restaurant for the breakfast, or eat 
here?"

Seeing my confused look, she said, "There might be colleagues in 
the restaurant, and... well, I... I don't want to complicate 
things for you..."

"Complicate things for me?"

"I don't want to come between the two of you, and although nobody 
knows who you are, she might hear something."

"Dana. I don't mind being seen with you. Nobody knows me, so the 
risk is small. It's a bridge far away and I'll cross it when the 
time comes, if ever. I'm more concerned about you. You have a 
boyfriend, and I don't want to endanger your current relation. 
Not more than... you know what I mean," I said with an 
embarrassed smile. "Since he works in the office, he might hear 
something from your colleagues. Do not, on my account, risk your 
current relationship. I'd rather have you make the choice. And, 
don't ever think you'll be hurting my feelings. I think we both 
know that neither of us will take any offense, or think less of 
each other!"

Gathering her in my arms, I hugged her, trying to assure her I 
had no problems either way.

"I'd like to have breakfast in the restaurant."

When I gave her an 'are you sure' look, she pulled me for a kiss. 
Extracting herself from my embrace, she hooked her arm in mine, 
and said, "Let's go. I'm starving."



* * * * *



The restaurant was almost empty, with just a few patrons, mostly 
airline personnel. We helped ourselves from the buffet, and made 
our way to a table with a view of the city. When we passed the 
table where the airline personnel were having their breakfast, 
Dana and I stopped for a brief but civil greeting. To my credit, 
I didn't tighten up, worrying about Dana and possible rumors 
during the exchange.

We were almost finished with our breakfast and having our coffee, 
when Dana asked, "What do you want to do?"

That was a loaded question. Lighting a cigarette, I thought about 
my answer. I wanted to get to know her, and I wanted to know what 
she wanted. I wanted to see her and I wanted to make love to her.

She smiled and said, "I meant, as in now."

"Would you like to take a walk outside?"

"Let's get our jackets."



* * * * *



After collecting our coats from the rooms, we went out. There was 
a small park nearby, so we headed there and found a bench. The 
early morning sun was weak, and didn't warm us, but it wasn't 
uncomfortably cold. I pulled her close, with my arm encircling 
her, and she rested her head on my shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Confused. Guilty. What about you?"

"Guilty? Because of your boyfriend?"

"No. We aren't that serious yet. As I told you, it's a recent 
thing. We haven't invested too much time. Still trying to get to 
know each other."

"That leaves me and her. Don't feel guilty about that. If 
somebody has to feel guilty, it should be me."

"And you don't?" she asked.

"Not about her. I feel guilty because it's not fair to you. I'm 
coming between you and your boyfriend. What's more, I don't know 
how I feel, or what I want to do about her. That puts everything 
in limbo. Especially you, in regards to 'us'. Do you mind if I 
use us?"

"I don't mind _us_," she replied. "But, I thought you were in 
love with her."

"That's the complicated part. I was--and still am--in love with 
her... to a certain degree. But the truth is, I'm not sure if I'm 
still in love with that girl from the past, or if I can make the 
leap to the new person she has become, which may have little to 
do with that girl. Besides all that, I don't want to hurt her. I 
just want her to be happy... it doesn't necessarily have to be 
me."

"Mitch, you trust your instincts, don't you?" she asked, drawing 
a sharp look from me.

She knew me well.

With a tight smile, I asked her, "Whose side are you on, 
anyways?"

She didn't have to answer that. I leaned and we shared a soft 
kiss.

"You aren't much help, you know that? You push me to her arms, 
but pull me into yours at the same time," I said with a resigned 
sigh. I looked at her, to see if she took offense at my comment, 
but was relieved to see that she understood what I was talking 
about. She was setting me free, and I loved her more for it.

I pulled out my pack and lit two cigarettes, and gave one to her. 
I contemplated my options, and I didn't like any of them. Not one 
bit. There were too many variables, undefined, with too much 
uncertainty.

"Mitch."

"Mmmmm..."

"You don't have to solve the world's problems in an hour," she 
said, making me laugh.

_God, I love you, Dana. You're the best thing that happened to me 
in years. I can't ask you to stay and wait for me. It's not 
right. Whether I go after her or not, I can't ask you to wait for 
me or love me._

I couldn't continue to see her. The thought saddened me. More 
than I realized. I loved her, and I had to set her free. For a 
moment, my blood ran cold with fury at the unfairness of it all. 
I felt like I was being cheated of a second chance at happiness. 
But, I knew it was self-pity that made me feel like that. As if 
sensing my thoughts, Dana ran her fingers at my neck, trying to 
sooth me.

_How in hell did my life get so complicated?_

"Mitch, don't!" she said softly.

"Huh?"

"I know what you're thinking. Don't rush it. Give it time. You 
have the time."

I didn't understand, what she was talking about... at all.

"I'm not going to rush after her. I need to think it through, and 
I'm not ready for it."

"I know that," she replied.

_If that's not what you were talking about, what are you talking 
about, Dana?_

_Oh, no! You don't! I can't accept that. You've got your life to 
live. I don't want to hurt you as well. Once was more than 
enough. In hindsight, knowing how inevitable that had been at the 
time, still doesn't make it easy. But this one... we both know 
the score. That's walking into it with eyes wide-open. I can't 
bear the thought of wasting your life._

"Not on your life," I said with a hoarse voice, my mouth suddenly 
dry.

She gave a long look, devoid of any expression. Averting her 
eyes, she took a long drag from her cigarette, and exhaled it 
slowly.

"Dana, I can't let you screw up your life."

Coming to a decision, she dropped the cigarette on the ground, 
and ground it out. Without a word, she extracted herself from my 
arm and stood up. Turning to me, she said, "It was nice knowing 
you, Mitchell Tanner."

My blood froze at the coldness in her voice.

Then she turned and walked away. I was stunned by the sudden turn 
of events... and just sat there, unable to respond in any way, 
watching her walk away. It was like watching an accident happen. 
You know, when time slows down, and you see the whole thing 
unravel... you know what's going to happen next, but you stand 
there helpless, and watch it happen from start till end, frozen 
to the spot. By the time I collected my wits, she was already on 
the other side of the street, walking in the direction of the 
hotel at a brisk pace.

The woman I loved and may have fallen in love with was walking 
away, because I had hurt her, in some inexplicable way. I didn't 
understand why she had reacted the way she had. Hadn't she 
understood I didn't want to hurt her? I knew I couldn't let her 
go like that; not this way, angry and hurt. I owed her better. 
Getting off the bench, I started after her, almost running.



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 8: Second Chances



I rushed in through the door, and saw her disappear behind the 
closing elevator doors. I walked to the elevators and waited for 
what felt like ages before the doors opened again. Stepping 
inside, I pressed the floor number. A minute or so later, I heard 
the chimes announce my arrival and the doors slid open.

Standing in front of her door, I was still thinking about what to 
say, but having no idea what made her react the way she did, I 
gave up and knocked. Getting no answer, I decided to go to my 
room, and try the interconnecting door between our rooms. When I 
checked the door, I found it unlocked, so after knocking on it, I 
opened it and stepped inside.

She was standing in front of the window, half turned away from 
me, smoking a cigarette. She looked dangerously calm, and for a 
moment I wondered if I would leave the room alive. Exhaling the 
smoke, she turned to face me, her eyes blazing with cold fury. If 
I hadn't been expecting something like that, I would have stepped 
back. Still, it wasn't easy to face, especially coming from her.

"You have some nerve, showing your face here," she said with an 
ice cold tone.

"I didn't understand... or like what happened there," I replied, 
trying to keep calm.

She put out her cigarette in the ashtray that was on the window 
sill. Turning back, she made her way to me, fixing me to the spot 
with fire in her eyes, "And why the hell not?"

"Dana, I didn't want to hurt you. I don't know what I did to--" I 
started, but before I could say another word, she cut me off.

"You, don't know?... YOU DON'T KNOW!" she shouted, her voice 
rising dangerously. I didn't dare interrupt her, hoping she'd 
calm down on her own, but I would have been lying if I didn't 
think of retreating to my room to let her cool off. She took a 
deep breath, but she was far from calm.

Pointing her finger at me, she said, "You talk about love, but 
you don't know what love is." She waited to see if I'd respond, 
but I wanted to hear where she was going with this. Interrupting 
her at this moment would have been futile.

"You said you loved me. You said you didn't want to hurt me. 
Well, Mitchell, you did hurt me." Fixing her steely eyes on mine, 
she said, "Did you ever stop and ask what _I_ wanted? Did you 
ever ask if I wanted you to... to let me _go_?"

_I didn't. Nope. I just rushed in trying to protect you. Even 
when you hinted at your wishes, did I listen to you? No._

"No, I did not. I didn't even consider your wishes," I replied as 
evenly as I could, but cringing inside at the realization of how 
fucked up that was... how badly I had screwed up.

"You think that's what love _is_, what lovers _do_?" she asked.

It was rhetorical.

"Weren't you the one who said love is too precious to throw 
away?" she insisted, her eyes glittering with hurt and anger.

_I said that, didn't I? Why did I try to throw it all away?_

_Because you were falling in love with her. When you were 
together, it felt like returning home. You wanted the second 
chance for happiness, and felt guilty wanting it._

"You know what hurt the most... Mitchell? Do you know how I felt 
walking back to the hotel? After sitting at the table with you, 
having breakfast, feeling your come drip into my panties... and 
enjoying the feeling?"

At her words, a look of horror passed my eyes. Seeing my 
reaction, she said, "I didn't say that to make you feel guilty, 
but I will _not_ even try to deny how bad I felt."

"I am sorry, Dana. I really am. I have no excuse. I know no 
apology can make it right."

"I know you didn't mean it. I know you love me, and you were 
trying to protect me, but I don't understand why you would do 
what you did... the way you did, Mitchell? Decide on something 
for both of us. If you love somebody, you share everything with 
them. The good and the bad."

"I didn't want to be a burden or another bastard in your life, 
but I wanted you. I felt guilty wanting you so selfishly. You 
made me happy, and I was bound to make you unhappy."

"You are forgetting something, Mitchell. I'm not fragile. I would 
like to make my own choices, as I did this morning when I made 
love with you," she replied, her voice softer but carrying a 
serious tone.

"I understand."

She gave a long searching look then her eyes softened, the steely 
glitter disappearing. "Love sometimes hurts. There is no avoiding 
that, Mitch. You can't always protect others. You can't shoulder 
all the responsibility."

She looked expectant, and I moved in to gather her in my arms. 
She came willingly, molding her body to mine, her arms circling 
my waist. We held each other for a long time. I tried to ease the 
hurt I had caused and give her some comfort. When she raised her 
head, I leaned in and we shared a gentle, loving kiss. Extracting 
herself from my embrace, she went to the bed. Next to it, on the 
wall was a control panel for selecting a few radio channels, and 
the hotel's private music broadcast. Turning it on, she went 
about searching for a channel with some soft music. After going 
through a few of them, she chose one of the hotel's music 
broadcasts. She kicked off her shoes, and asked me to sit on the 
armchair. Then, she sat on my lap sideways, tucking her knees, 
next to the side of my thighs, and put her head against my 
shoulder, leaning on my chest. When I kissed her forehead, and 
started to stroke her from her calves up to her knees she sighed, 
and relaxed. Her skirt had ridden up due to her position, 
displaying her thighs, and I took advantage of that to continue 
caressing her legs up her thighs, and then cupped her shapely 
butt.

After a while, she asked, "Do you want to see me, Mitch?"

"Yes, I want to. Thank you for giving me another chance. I hope I 
won't mess it up this time."

"I'm not looking for promises, Mitch. I'm looking for some 
happiness and love. I seem to have found it with you, and you 
seem to have found it with me. We'll see where we go from there."

I thought I had found more than that with her, and didn't reply. 
Sensing her eyes on me, I looked at her. She didn't say anything 
for a while, nor did she wait for a reply, but her eyes were 
scrutinizing me carefully. Then her expression changed, as if she 
had found something, and she said, "I thought it was too early 
for you to say that you love me, or even hint at falling in love 
with me, but I think I understand."

"What do you understand, Dana?"

"When we were talking about your past, you mentioned something 
like 'being at home.' Now, I understand what you meant. Is that 
what you were feeling when we made love?"

I nodded. "Now, as well. Why do you ask?"

"I wasn't sure. I suspected as much, but I thought it might be 
because we'd finished making love. I guess I feel like that too. 
This little fight helped me see it." With a tender look, she 
added, "I'm not making this easy for us, am I?"

"It's all right, Dana. We are both hungry for love. I think 
that's part of what we feel, but I suspect there's more than 
that. We'll discover it in time."

We sat there enjoying the moment, the soft music in the 
background filling in the quiet solitude. Elton John finished 
singing _Sacrifice_, then came the opening notes of a song I knew 
very well, followed immediately by the voice of Freddie Mercury.



Just one year of love

Is better than a lifetime alone

One sentimental moment in your arms

Is like a shooting star right through my heart



_Was it 'us' you were talking about, Freddie?_

I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. This song just gained 
a new meaning, and I hoped it wouldn't prove to be prophetic. I 
felt Dana easing herself a bit in my embrace, listening to the 
song. Then she looked up. I could see she was concentrating on 
catching the lyrics, but her look was one of curiosity. I kissed 
her, then pulled her head to my shoulder, and caressing her back, 
I whispered, "Close your eyes and listen."

Freddie kept singing; about rainy days and being a prisoner 
inside your lover, aching hearts calling out to loved one's 
heart.



My hand reaches out for your hand

I'm cold but you light the fire in me

My lips search for your lips

I'm hungry for your touch



Dana was listening, absorbing the words. When Freddie talked 
about unspoken words and surrender, I heard a soft sigh from her. 
Her response told me she was feeling the same emotions that the 
lyrics evoked in me. I felt her look up, and I leaned in to kiss 
her lips softly, as her hand moved to my neck, caressing. As our 
kiss ended, Freddie came back.



And no one ever told me that love would hurt so much

Oooh yes it hurts

And pain is so close to pleasure

And all I can do is surrender to your love

Just surrender to your love



When the song finished, she said, "I've heard this one before... 
I think in a movie or something. Who's he?"

"Freddie Mercury. The group is Queen. Did you like it?"

She nodded.

"You're a strange woman, Dana. Most people would say it's a 
depressing song."

"I don't think so. You might say it's a sad song, but I think 
he's got the right idea. Don't you think?" With that, she looked 
at me, her blue eyes inquiring.

"You're thinking about us?" I asked.

"Not in those terms... but I guess it sums up us... in many 
ways." Giving me a smile, "You like the song, but it reminds you 
too much of past... and present?"

"Kind of..."

"I'm not going anywhere, Mitch. I think we're becoming good 
friends... and will continue to be. All things aside, that's more 
important."

I hugged her tightly to my body, my hand cupping and squeezing 
her bottom before running along her side to her back.

"Come. Let's make our moment," she said softly before sitting up.

Getting off my lap, she pulled me to my feet. While she moved 
towards the bed, she started to undo my shirt buttons. When she 
had the buttons open, she peeled my shirt off. In the meantime, I 
was trying to unclasp her skirt at the back, and pull the zipper 
down. By then, she was standing next to the bed. I pulled the 
skirt down and let it pool around her feet, and she stepped out. 
When I fumbled with her shirt, she took over, and I got out of my 
jeans. We stood facing each other, she clad only in her panties 
and I with my boxers. I pulled her to my chest, enjoying the feel 
of her breasts, and her hard nipples before running my hand under 
the elastic of her panties, cupping her cheeks.

Stepping back, I started to kiss and lick her from her neck down 
to her shoulders and spent a few minutes getting her nipples 
aching hard. I continued, leaving a wet trail down to her belly, 
and slowly slid her panties down, inhaling her aroma. I could see 
she was moist there, and remains of dried semen were around her 
lips. When I moved in to lick, Dana tried to stop me, "I'm not 
exactly clean."

I didn't mind; I enjoyed eating her and wanted to taste her 
again. When I gave the first tentative licks, she shuddered. 
Cupping her cheeks, I pulled her to my face, and she spread her 
feet to give me better access. I worked on her labia and inner 
lips, teasing around her clit, and moving up to her belly for 
soft kisses and licks, then going back to her pussy for more. She 
pulled me up for a kiss, then she sat on the bed, moving up along 
its length to position herself on her back, inviting me between 
her legs.

I took off my boxers and knee walked, but she wanted me to 
straddle her chest. She teased me with her tongue and lips, 
working on my cock before licking my balls and back to my cock, 
giving me long and soft sucks. With a final suck, she let me out 
of her mouth and said, "Make love to me... make love with me."

I moved down between her legs and, holding myself over her body 
with my weight on my arm, I nudged her opening with my cock, 
testing her wetness. Getting myself lubed with her oils, I tried 
to enter her. When the head passed the ring at the entrance to 
her channel, I heard her catch her breath. Looking up, I saw her 
eyes squeezed shut. I realized she was sore from our last 
session, so I stopped my movement. She opened her eyes and put 
her hands on my shoulder telling me to keep going.

"Dana, you must be sore. I don't want to..." I started, and then 
we both intoned "hurt you," starting to laugh at the situation. 
Seeing that she was distracted and laughing, I entered her all 
the way with a smooth, gentle stroke. She gasped and her eyes 
tightened for a moment. I could feel she was trying to relax her 
ring muscle to ease the burning of my passage.

I wasn't planning on stroking. Being inside her like that was 
good enough and since she wanted this, I knew she would enjoy 
feeling me in her like that. I was getting to know what she 
wanted, despite the fact that we've been intimate for a very 
short time. Pulling her knees up, she locked her feet on my lower 
back and slowly started to roll her hips, giving me a better 
angle, urging me to penetrate her as deep as possible. When I was 
all the way inside her, I stopped, and looked at her. Her blue 
eyes were soft, and big, shimmering, reminding me the cold blue 
waters of the sea and my beloved beach. As I gazed in her eyes, I 
was lost in the tranquility I found there... and gentleness, 
love, and passion; but most of all, how she gave it so freely and 
completely, making me ache something fierce, even though I was 
closer to her than ever--deep inside her warm and slick shelter, 
connected to her in the most primitive manner, feeling her 
heartbeat through our connection.

She freed one hand and picked up a pillow, placing it next to her 
side. When I gave her a questioning look, she told me to arrange 
us in a side-ways, almost missionary position. The pillow was to 
give me some height and room for her leg that would be under my 
torso. After she unlocked her legs, we carefully rolled to our 
sides, and to my surprise I found the position very comfortable. 
It did change the angle and, if I wanted, I could stroke, but 
only short strokes. However, I wasn't planning to stroke and 
irritate her already sore channel. The slick and hot feel of it 
along my shaft was more than enough. Moving her upper body a bit 
away from me, she gave me ample space to caress and play with her 
tits, and bending a bit, I could even lick and suckle her 
nipples.

We spent a lot of time, touching and caressing each other, or 
kissing, and she used her inner muscles. It was gentle, and 
dreamy. After a while Dana insisted I start stroking, and I 
wasn't keen on the idea, but reluctantly I agreed. I gave a 
couple of experimental short, gentle strokes and observed her 
carefully. She felt really slick inside her channel, and I didn't 
see a visible reaction, but I was apprehensive.

"It hurts a little, but it's good pain, Mitch. Sort of a slight 
burning. Itching and burning, and it's not really hurting. Trust 
me. If it hurts, I'll tell you to stop."

"I know women have high thresholds for pain, but I don't like the 
idea. It may be OK now, but what about later?"

"Don't worry about it. Please?"

So we kept at it. She would massage me using her inner muscles, 
then let me stroke for a while, and we would kiss and caress each 
other. We slowly built up the fires, and after a while both of us 
were starting to gasp and pant. Our slow movements magnified the 
sensations, and we were moving into the final stretch. I could 
see her breasts heaving, and getting harder, and flushed. The 
color was moving slowly up her chest all the way to her neck. We 
took short breaks and slowed our activities to prolong the 
sensation, but after a few times, we couldn't hold ourselves.

I started deliberate strokes and was gratified to see her close 
her eyes, letting out a sigh. At the end of each stroke, she 
started to let out small whimpers, and then her pussy started to 
squeeze me. I stroked in and stayed inside, letting her muscles 
take me over, while latching onto her nipple... and nibbling. 
Then I was coming, with small bursts. It was slow, and drawn out, 
like our build up. As we were coming down, we shared a drawn out 
soul kiss.

I wanted to stay inside her, but once the endorphins ran their 
course I was afraid she would hurt more when I pulled out of her. 
After a few minutes of enjoying the pleasurable feeling, gave her 
a questioning look; she nodded, and I pulled out slowly. Then I 
lifted myself, so she could get her leg trapped under my torso 
free, and stretch it comfortably. I picked up the sheet and the 
blanket and pulled them to cover us. We fell into a short but 
blissful sleep, with Dana snuggled in my arms.

An hour later I woke, and went about waking Dana, gently 
caressing, and kissing her. "How are you feeling, sleepy head?" I 
asked.

She stretched her body, and I could hear the popping and cracking 
sounds from her joints. "Great."

When I gave her a questioning look, she reached down with her 
hand and did an examination with her fingers. She winced a bit, 
but I guessed it wasn't bad.

"It's a bit sore, but a little bit of cold water, and a day's 
rest should do the trick."

Giving me a brilliant smile, she added, "She hasn't seen so much 
action for quite awhile, and she was hungry. Now, she can rest 
and gather her strength," making me laugh.

"When do you need to go to the airport?"

She reached for her watch on the nightstand, and said, "We have 
two hours before I have to leave the hotel."

I suggested filling up the tub and enjoying a bath. We spent the 
next hour in the bathtub. My hands were busy with her body, but 
mostly I kept playing with her soapy breasts. She told me she 
wanted them well used and sore. When I reminded her she had to 
put on a bra, she retorted, "If they're too sore for a bra, I 
won't put one on. But I'll keep my jacket on, so nobody would 
notice it."

After the bathroom fun, we dressed and she spent some time 
putting on her makeup and uniform. She didn't put on her bra, and 
her blouse was not thick enough to hide her breasts. But with the 
jacket on, she could get away with it. She gave me her telephone 
number, and times I could reach her at home. When she asked about 
my plans, I explained I didn't have anything definite and gave 
her a general outline of what I had planned. She mentioned that 
she had some time off, and we made plans to talk on the phone in 
the coming days, and make arrangements to get together. She would 
check her flight schedule, and arrange to take her accrued days 
off. While she packed her overnight bag, I quickly packed my 
suitcase, and we went down to the hotel bar to get a cup of 
coffee before she departed with the shuttle service to the 
airport.

At the bar, we found a quiet corner and enjoyed each other's 
company. We talked about general things, and discussed 
possibilities for the coming days. I got the feeling she very 
much wanted to take a few days off with me, and to say the truth, 
I wanted the same. I was already starting to miss her when we 
said goodbye. When the shuttle service arrived, we bid goodbye. 
It wasn't teary eyed, and I think it had much to do with the fact 
that we would see each other shortly.

When she was kissing me goodbye, I whispered, "Don't walk funny," 
and got an elbow for my trouble.

Then with a laugh, she said, "You're terrible, you know that. 
It's good that it's out of action, otherwise, I could throw you 
on the table and have my way with you."

"And I'm terrible?" I retorted with a snort.

Gathering her in my arms for one final hug, I told her I would 
call her tonight, then we walked to the shuttle bus, and I waited 
until the bus left. Collecting my suitcase, I made a phone call 
to my sis, but she wasn't home. I decided not to call my parents 
but surprise them. Paying the bill, I left the hotel in a taxi.

While on the way to my parent's house, my mind was busy trying to 
come up with a rough plan for my vacation. I was looking forward 
to seeing Dana, but at the back of my mind, my old _nemesis_ was 
still present. I knew I had to deal with that, but I didn't want 
to spoil the next few days brooding over it. I needed to figure 
out my feelings about her. Depending on the outcome, the next 
step would be gathering information about her, her life, figure 
out what brought the changes in her, and perhaps arrange to meet 
her. I wasn't sure if I would be able to face her again, after 
the past few years, the experience in the airport still fresh on 
my mind. I didn't want to think about the pain and desolation I 
had felt yesterday. But, I knew I had to find some closure, 
somehow, and only then, I would be able to do something about my 
new relation with Dana, instead of leaving us in a limbo... But 
those things could wait... another time.



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 9: Home



The cab pulled next to the curb, and I stepped out, waiting for 
the driver to open the trunk. Picking up my suitcase, I paid him, 
and walked to the apartment complex. My parents had been living 
in one of the flats for the last ten years. It had been my home 
for many good years before I finally moved out, and it was still 
home--of some sort. I had my room here, since I didn't have a 
place of my own. I had planned to rent a small flat or buy into 
one of the new condos being built, but my parents pointed out 
that it would be a waste of money. Well, they had a point. At the 
rig-site, I had a cabin. When I had to spend a few days in the 
office, the company had accommodations available for the staff at 
the compound. On my off-duty time, I was traveling and staying at 
hotels or pensions in coastal towns. If I had rented or bought a 
place it wouldn't have been used much, unless I rented it out. 
Besides defeating the purpose in the first place, that would have 
brought another set of problems--dealing with tenants, taxes, 
contracts, etc.

Of course, there was another--unspoken--reason. My parents wanted 
me to be financially independent. They had hopes I would 
eventually quit that job and place, and move somewhere safer and 
more civilized. If I had committed myself to paying for one of 
the condos, I couldn't easily leave my current job. I could 
afford the mortgage with my current salary. However, if I had to 
get a job in my hometown or in another big city--even a good 
paying job--the salary wouldn't be anywhere near half of what I 
was currently making. What's more, I didn't want the company to 
shackle me with a golden chain. I had gone to great lengths to 
ensure the privacy of my financial affairs. Every month, I pulled 
most of my salary from the bank the company used, and transferred 
it to an account with a small, independent bank, where a friend 
of my sister worked. When I had to finance the purchase of my 
car, he helped out, ensuring that there wouldn't be any contact 
with the Company; they only asked for official copies of my 
salary slip and contract. When my sister heard what I did, she 
figured out my reasoning and accused me of being paranoid, but 
she had no idea how things worked in some companies; I had seen 
quite a few examples of arm-twisting and manipulation. I wasn't 
going to give anybody that kind of leverage over me. Maybe she 
was right, but I haven't forgotten what Musashi wrote 400 years 
ago, about how to exploit your opponent's weaknesses in a combat 
situation. I had taken those lessons to heart and knew they did 
apply to many modern situations.

Climbing the stairs with my suitcase in hand, I tried to compose 
myself. I felt somewhat light hearted and happy, for the first 
time, but I didn't want anybody to notice that, and ask 
unnecessary, uncomfortable questions. I wasn't ready to answer 
any more awkward questions than I had to. I knew they would be 
curious why I had to spend the very night I was back in town, 
away from home. They didn't need to know, and I could get away 
with a white lie. I didn't like resorting to a lie, so I usually 
ignored the questions I didn't want to answer. They rarely got 
insistent, but they still did sometimes, as if I was a 15 year 
old teen (forgetting the long standing understanding that if I 
was avoiding a question, then they would do well to steer clear 
off the subject, unless they were ready to accept a half truth or 
an unpleasant truth). There had been exceptions to the rule, of 
course, when we laid our cards on the table, but they had been 
few and far between.

Before I knocked, the door opened, and my sister stood at the 
entrance, with a smile on her face.

"It's Mitch," she shouted over her shoulder, informing my 
parents, before stepping aside to let me in.

I set my suitcase to the side, closed the door behind me, then 
hugged her.

"Hey, Sis. What are you doing here?"

"What do you think? I was waiting for you," she replied.

When we parted, she gave me a quizzical look, and dropped a 
bombshell. "Did you change your aftershave?"

_Shiiit! Did I have Dana's perfume on me? Oooh, maaan! That's all 
I need now._

"Nope. It must be the new shampoo," I replied with a straight 
face.

She wasn't convinced, but before she could interrogate me, I 
steered us towards the living room. Mom was a bit misty eyed, 
especially when she noticed the white and gray stripe on my 
temples, but she didn't make any comments. She was happy to have 
me back, away from that 'God-forsaken place.' Dad was his usual 
quiet self, exchanging a quick greeting. They looked healthy, 
although Mom seemed to have more worry lines around the corner of 
her eyes. I didn't want to think about that, but when I saw my 
parents I always felt guilty about working in that part of the 
country against their wishes.

"We were expecting you last night, Mitchell," Mom said.

"Sorry. It was a last minute thing. I couldn't get away."

I noticed Sis was listening in with interest and I was afraid of 
what she might say. She usually kept her quips private; I guess 
it was something we both learned as young siblings, _them_ and 
_us_--the parents and the children. But on rare occasions, she 
would say something just to see me sweat. She was careful though, 
knowing a payback could be coming.

"Yeah. Mom said that you ran into an old friend... at the 
airport," my sister got into the conversation. Although she 
didn't ask, the question was there, and she expected an answer.

I shot a warning look at her, but she was enjoying herself. Her 
female radar had recorded an unidentified object, and she was 
curious to find out what it was she had stumbled upon.

When I didn't answer, she came back. "So, whom did you see?"

"Katherine Tanner!" Mom warned her.

_Thanks, Mom!_

"It's all right, Ma. She's being Kathy--as usual. If she didn't, 
I would be asking 'who's this stranger'," I retorted with a 
smile, trying to get my sister off the hook with Mom, while 
paying her back.

Kathy was properly admonished, but she wasn't going to give it up 
so easily. "Well, Bro, you better treat this strange girl nicely, 
or you may be sleeping on the street tonight."

"Katherine! You behave yourself this instant," Mom said, then 
turning on me, she warned me, too, "And you too. I will not have 
you two bickering like children." Then, with a more gentle tone, 
she added, "Mitch, we're having your room and your father's den 
painted, so most of your stuff has been moved to your sister's 
place. It was her suggestion." She gave Kathy a pointed look. 
"But, if she's changed her mind, we can make other arrangements."

At that, my sister shook her head. "No. I miss him. I want him to 
stay at my place. I was just teasing."

"Teasing him? You call being impolite and nosy... teasing?" Mom 
asked her, the amused expression taking the sting out of her 
words.

"Sorry, Mitch. I didn't mean anything," my sister said with a 
soft voice.

Taking a step, I gathered her in my arms. "I know, Kathy. I 
missed you, too."

She relaxed in my embrace, then whispered, "I like your new 
shampoo."

She was incorrigible, but that was Kathy. It was going to be an 
interesting couple of days with her. I wondered whether I would 
survive the experience. As I was contemplating the coming days, 
my stomach growled, making my sister laugh.

"You didn't eat anything?" she asked.

"I had a big breakfast."

Extracting herself from my embrace, she headed for the kitchen. 
"I'll whip up something for you."

"Mitch, you better go and help her out. Otherwise, you might die 
of food poisoning or something," Mom said loudly, making sure 
Kathy heard her.

"Maaaa!" Kathy exclaimed. "I'm a good cook. And if I weren't, it 
would be your fault. You taught me how," she retorted.

"I know, dear. I was just teasing," Mom replied, giving her a 
devilish smile.

"Teasing? Tarnishing my reputation is teasing?" my sister 
responded, trying to get back at Mom.

Before the two women could get into a protracted give and take, 
Dad interrupted them. "Mitch, son. You better get to the kitchen. 
Don't wait on these two cats."

_You're a brave man, Dad! Do you know what you're getting 
yourself into? If they turn on you, you're dead meat!_

"Your dad is right, Mitch. You better get yourself something in 
the kitchen. And you, young lady, if you want to be over my knee, 
I'll make the time. Just ask," Mom said with a grin.

Heh! That was a threat Kathy and I could both call. She never hit 
us throughout our childhood, but then, we never gave her cause to 
make true on her threats either.

"Well, Sis. What's it gonna be? Kitchen or..."

She shrugged with a wry grin, and headed for the kitchen, with me 
following behind her. I wasn't very hungry, despite the growling 
in my stomach, so we got busy making a salad and an omelet, while 
chatting. When she finished preparing the salad, she set a plate 
on the small kitchen table.

I didn't take too long to clean up my plate, while Sis watched me 
wolf down the food, rushing through lunch--a nasty habit I picked 
up at the college due to the short lunch breaks between classes, 
and later, continued at the rig. When I finished eating, Mom came 
in. Sis collected the dirty dishes, and placed them in the 
dishwasher, and we sat around the table. Mom was in a good mood 
and I guess she was happy to see both of us in the house, but I 
noticed she was perturbed about something. When I looked askance, 
she shook her head as if to say 'nothing,' but I knew she had 
something in her mind.

"Come on, Mom. What's on your mind?"

"You look tired, Mitchell. You're too young to have white in your 
hair. It's not in the family. That place is slowly killing you. 
When are you going to come back home, or move to someplace else?"

_Ma, when are you going to stop asking the same questions? I 
don't have the answers. When I have them, you'll be the first to 
know._

I looked at Kathy to see if she would come to my aid, but either 
she was told not to or she didn't want to get pulled into this 
one, so she averted her eyes.

"Don't look at her, Mitchell. She's as worried as we are. You 
think she doesn't think about you every time she watches the news 
at night?"

"Please. I'm not going to get drawn into a discussion. It's a 
closed issue. Don't believe everything you see on TV or read in 
the newspapers. It's not that bad at all. Do you really believe I 
would stay there if it was as dangerous as you think? Give me 
some credit, will you?" I said, trying hard not to be 
argumentative.

"I don't know what to believe! But I know what I see. That place 
is wearing you down."

"Sometimes it gets too busy, and I don't get enough sleep. I 
haven't had much sleep in the last two days, and last night I had 
a few drinks. That's why I look like the way I do. You've seen 
Kathy in the same condition, when she pulls a 36-40 hour shift in 
the emergency ward. She does that more regularly than I do. So, 
what's the difference? I tell you. There's no difference. None at 
all," I retorted with a tired sigh.

"I get a day off after those long shifts, and I don't spend my 
time out in the open, like you do. Two months ago, they reported 
53 C in the shade and regularly upper 40s for the region. Last 
year, you had -20 C for several days in December. You spend most 
of your time outside, exposed to the elements. Your hours are 
irregular," Kathy said.

_You too, Sis? What is this? I just arrived and I'm already being 
grilled. This discussion was settled almost a year ago. I'm not 
going to rehash it!_

"That's why I get several weeks of off-duty time. To recuperate. 
Like all other people who work on the rig. Most of them spend 
more time out in the open than I do. They have been working in 
different countries, in different climates for years. I didn't 
see anybody dying from hard work," I replied, with a low, 
controlled tone.

This was trying my patience, especially because it had been a 
long time since we had a similar discussion. When I took a moment 
to reflect on it, I realized there was one notable difference 
between this and previous ones--I wasn't angry or even irritated. 
I was ticked off, a bit, and my patience was slowly running out, 
but I didn't feel any anger or even resentment at being pulled 
into the same subject, taking it in stride.

_What has changed? Was it Dana?_

My mind was busy with that question and I almost missed the 
signal between Kathy and Mom. Mom was going to say something, but 
I saw Sis shake her head 'don't.' Kathy was watching me 
carefully, and I felt like I was under an electron microscope.

_Does she suspect something?_

I learned early on to never underestimate her.

_I hope the next couple of days aren't going to be a trial._

Sometimes, Kathy didn't know when to stop, and I wasn't ready to 
talk. Well, I hadn't talked with Kathy about anything in the last 
few years. I knew I clammed up pretty hard every time she had 
tried to probe, and on a few occasions I had to remind her to 
mind her own business. I knew it wasn't a nice thing to say to my 
sister, but siblings or not, I didn't appreciate any intrusion to 
my personal life and what I considered my private affairs. I had 
been somewhat distant, not only because of what happened in the 
past, but for other reasons as well.

Kathy and my parents thought my decision was based solely on 
getting over my wounds, and, I believe, they didn't realize I 
didn't want them to see me struggle every day. I was still 
struggling, but it had gotten better--except yesterday! I also 
needed the space; my personal, private space, without intrusions. 
I wouldn't have that while trying to work a regular job, with 
regular hours, and regular people who had certain expectations 
(especially social expectations). I would have drawn unnecessary 
attention, and I knew I didn't need. It was bound to get me a bad 
reputation, if not into trouble with people.

I didn't want the people who knew me (including my family) to 
witness what I was going through. 'Far from the eyes, far from 
the heart.' That might not always apply to family--my family--but 
it did to a certain degree. I had moved into a protective shell, 
and letting them witness my daily struggles would just add to the 
feelings of guilt. It would have been impossible to maintain an 
appearance of normalcy in an office. And, since I didn't fit into 
a regular world, I had my doubts about holding a regular job for 
more than a few months. That would have been another blow, 
another worry for them. They were used to seeing me succeed, and 
seeing me switch or lose jobs, or being a misfit, would have torn 
them worse than their current worries.

_It's not that they wouldn't understand my reasons. I'm pretty 
sure they would have. I know they would still love me if I had 
failed, but it would have destroyed me for sure. I know what I 
am. I'm too proud and stubborn. I wouldn't, couldn't settle for 
failure. If I had stayed and found a job here, I was destined to 
fail. I'm sure of it. I didn't fit in then, and I still don't. 
That day may come. Perhaps, sooner than I expect, but it's too 
early to talk about it and get their hopes up._

Changing the subject, Mom asked about my plans for my vacation, 
but before I could get a word in, Kathy cut in. "You're taking me 
out to dinner tonight, Bro. Some place nice."

"Sure. Wherever you want," I replied, my attention still on Mom.

"Close your mouth, dear," Mom said to Kathy, who was staring at 
me with a gaping mouth.

She sputtered, then asked, "You... You're not going to argue?"

"Kathy, I always enjoyed taking you out. I only argued when our 
schedules didn't match, or you had those annoying friends of 
yours tagging along. You know I don't care for some of them, and 
yet, you insist."

"Why? All of the girls are nice, and the guys behave themselves," 
she replied, with a defensive tone.

_Shit. I don't want to get into this in front of Mom. Why don't 
you zip it up?_

"Some of those girls are too _nice_," I replied, pointedly.

Sensing trouble brewing, Mom interrupted us. "Mitchell, that's 
not a nice thing to say about anybody, let alone those girls."

"They are shopping for a boyfriend, and worse, yet, some of them 
are shopping for a husband. I'm not shopping for a girlfriend or 
a wife. I have no interest in them, and they don't take a hint. 
And, that's all I'm going to _say_, on this subject," I replied 
with deliberation, my tone making it clear I would not tolerate 
further discussion.

"Moving on to your question," I said, swiftly changing the 
subject. "I don't have any specific plans. I need to get the car 
to the garage for a check-up. Then I'll head for the coast. There 
are some towns I want to visit. I really liked one place last 
time, so I might spend most of my time there, exploring."

Kathy broke in with another question. "Sarah is having a party on 
Saturday. You'll come, won't you?"

_You're insistent, Sis. Never give up trying. I'll give you that, 
but neither do I. You should know that._

Sarah was her best friend, and a girl I had known since we were 
kids. She was a very nice girl, not one of the sharks who made my 
hair stand on end when I had to socialize. It'd been several 
years since I had seen her, and what I remembered was a girl with 
whitish blonde hair, gray eyes, and a slightly chubby body. But, 
she had the voice of an angel and played the guitar like a 
virtuoso. In junior high, she and my sister had started taking 
guitar lessons, and Sarah turned out to be exceptionally gifted. 
Not only was she good at playing the guitar, but she had a voice.

_Man, did she sing! Angels must have been listening to her 
crystal clear voice in the heavens, every time she sang._

Many times, I had found myself taking a break from my studies 
just to listen to their practice sessions next door in my 
sister's room, relaxing to her voice.

_Fond memories, indeed._

"Sarah... How's she doing?"

"She works in Orthopedics at the other hospital, but we get 
together whenever we can. She still plays the guitar and sings. I 
hope you haven't forgotten that."

"No way I could forget that voice. I always thought she would 
quit school and turn professional, being a singer. I remember her 
having problems in med school."

"She did. Repeated a year. She wanted to go professional, but her 
parents and I talked some sense into her."

"She didn't resent it?"

"No. She's happy she continued with her studies. She still has 
time for music, and she could still try singing professionally, 
if she wanted to. But I guess, she didn't want it that badly. 
When did you see her last?" she asked.

"Ummm... I don't know... five, six years ago... Why?"

Instead of answering me, she gave me a smile filled with 
mischief, making me uneasy.

"What exactly are you cooking up, Sis?" I asked, apprehensive 
about what she might be planning to spring on me. She always 
managed to find a way to catch me unprepared. Although her 
surprises had been pleasant enough--more often than I cared to 
admit--there had also been many occasions when they had annoyed 
the hell out of me.

"Ohh... nothing, really," she replied casually. It was too casual 
for my liking, and seeing I was getting antsy, she hastily said, 
"Don't get your knickers in a tw--"

"For your information, I don't wear ladies underwear!" I cut her 
off.

"OK! Don't get your pants in a twist! It's really nothing. She's 
just... changed..." she replied with a teasing smile.

"Changed?" I repeated her words with a smirk. I found it hard not 
to suspect her motives, after her casual remark.

"You'll see when we go," she responded cryptically.

_Hell, no! I'm not going to be suckered into anything. I know you 
Sis. I know how devious your mind can be..._

Giving her a teasing smile, I said, "Well, that could be 
difficult... I'm not sure if I can make the party."

Her face fell at that, because she knew that she couldn't cajole 
me in any way to go to a party, even if it was Sarah's; not after 
what I had said about the other girls, and knowing that there 
bound to be a few of them attending the same party.

"You know, you can be a real spoil sport, Bro. But I'm being 
polite. I won't say that you're being a sourpuss."

Mom caught her breath at that quip, but instead of admonishing 
her, she took her side. "She's right, Mitchell. You are being a 
rat about the whole thing."

"I didn't say I wouldn't go. I said, I might not make it," I 
retorted.

I wanted to know what she was planning. I didn't like being 
caught unprepared or suckered into something I would dislike. 
Kathy immediately recognized the opportunity, but was reluctant 
to come out with whatever she had up her sleeve. In the end, she 
gave up the pretense, and said, "Sarah turned into a babe, 
Mitchell. You would hardly recognize her."

"Sarah? A babe?"

She had always been a good looking girl, but nothing special. The 
girl-next-door kind of good looking, except her voice. She had 
been a bit pudgy at the time, so I had difficulty imagining her 
as a babe.

Mom said, "Sarah is not really a babe."

That made more sense, so I looked askance at my sis, wondering 
what she was up to, when Mom added, "She's a blonde bombshell."

_Sheeesshh! What the hell's going on? Babe! Blonde bombshell! 
Sarah is turned into a blonde bombshell. You're joking, right?_

When I looked at Mom, she was grinning from ear to ear, smug with 
the knowledge that she had managed to shake me up. Seeing I 
wasn't convinced, she nodded, confirming my suspicions.

_Uhh... OK! I'll take your word for it. So... what's going on? 
What are you two up--_

_Ooh, no! No way! You two aren't playing matchmaker, are you?_

"I don't think I like what I think you two are cooking up," I 
said.

"We aren't cooking up anything, Mitch. You need to get out, and 
this is as good an occasion for it as any," Kathy said, with Mom 
nodding her agreement.

"Just hold it there! If you haven't heard it yet, or didn't 
realize it up to now, let me put it clearly. I'm not interested 
in going out with any one," I said softly, but making it clear I 
wasn't going to allow any interference with my personal life.

"Mitch, come on. It's just a party. Sarah likes you, and no, not 
like that; she has a boyfriend. You've known each other since we 
were kids. You like her. She even promised to sing, and keep the 
_girls_ away from you. It will be fun, and you'll enjoy it. I 
don't have an escort, and I don't want to go there alone. There 
are no hidden agendas, OK?"

"I find that hard to believe, Sis. No offense intended, but I 
know how your mind works," I replied, still not convinced.

"You make your own decisions. Nobody will force you to date 
Sarah, or any other girl. Everybody knows you always do what you 
want, and I know it would be pointless to suggest anything. So, 
what are you afraid of? What's your problem? Don't tell me you're 
scared of seeing Sarah?" Kathy asked, successfully cornering me 
with her logic.

_You're some piece of work, Sis. I'm glad you didn't get to be a 
lawyer, and I pity the guy that marries you._

I gave her an appraising look, trying to see what else she would 
be springing on me, but she returned my gaze with the same 
appraising look. She had a self satisfied smile on her lips, and 
I didn't think it was related to winning the argument. No, this 
was something else, and that made me wonder. I went through the 
short exchange trying to see what else was hidden that would make 
her react like that. I got the feeling she had engineered the 
whole discussion. The party at Sarah's place, the whole thing 
about how Sarah had changed were interesting revelations and 
caught me by surprise, but why would Kathy open up the subject to 
raise my suspicions, almost inviting a confrontation? She didn't 
invite a confrontation, she directed us right into the 
confrontation about my personal life and affairs, knowing full 
well how I would react, and then, successfully cornered me with 
her logic. What would she gain by irritating me, except the 
possibility that I would refuse to go to a party she wanted to go 
to?

I took out my pack and lit a cigarette, while paying attention to 
her as surreptitiously as I could. She knew what I was doing, and 
wasn't bothered. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself, and 
didn't hide it.

_Damn, Kathy! You pulled one over me, and feel real smug about 
it, don't you?_

When I looked at her I could see her eyes were laughing at me. I 
gave her a small smile, with a warning look that hinted at a 
payback she wouldn't like, but she nonchalantly shrugged it off. 
She knew I wouldn't be a real bad ass about it; it was an empty 
threat. We used to parry like that a lot when we were kids, 
enjoying the battle of wits.

_Well, let's see how good you're at strategy, Kathy._

"Saturday... what time is the party?" I asked, as if I had given 
up, and feigning interest.

"So, you're going?" she asked suddenly enthusiastic, without 
realizing that she had just walked into my hand.

I didn't answer, but kept smiling, and she realized her mistake. 
Once her smug smile faded, I said, "I didn't say that, yet, did 
I? I need to know the time, to see if I could make it."

"_What_!!! You have a _prior_ engagement?" she retorted snootily.

"Let's say, I have plans, and I need to know if I have to shuffle 
my schedule."

"You're being a _rat_, Mitch, and you know it," she replied 
indignantly.

Just then, Mom stood up, and smiling at both of us, she said, 
"You two take it easy! Don't break anything. I'm not going to 
clean up your mess." Mom used to say that when we were younger 
and involved in battles like this.

Finally, we were alone in the kitchen, and I wondered who would 
surrender first. I knew Kathy would stick to her guns, as I 
would. I was planning to take her to the party, but I was curious 
about why she had engineered the previous exchange. I decided to 
lay my cards on the table and see where it would take me.

"Kathy, I'll take you to the party."

"And?"

"And? What do you mean, 'and'?" I asked.

"You have something up your sleeve, Bro. Out with it," she 
responded hotly, with a suspicious tone.

"I don't have anything up my sleeve. And if I did, why should I 
tell you?"

She mulled something in her mind, then asked, "What's on your 
mind, Mitch?"

"How about a little bit of _quid pro quo_?" I replied.

"On what?" she asked.

"OK, Sis. Here's the deal. I won't pay you back for the stunt you 
just pulled. In fact, I won't pay you back for any of the stunts 
you pulled today, starting with your quip about who I saw in the 
airport, and including all the singing and dancing about Sarah. 
I'm just curious about what you were really trying to accomplish 
with that little confrontation a few minutes ago."

Then, thinking over the whole quid pro quo thing, I decided to be 
even more generous. This was Kathy, after all, and the issue was 
minor, so I said, "I've changed my mind. For what it's worth, I'm 
not even going to hold you up to the _quid pro quo_. Rest easy, 
I'm not going to pay you back for anything , whether you explain 
what you were up to or not."

She got up from her chair, and stood by my side, then leaning, 
she hugged me, whispering, "I love you, Mitch. I missed you."

"I missed you too, Sis. But, sometimes you drive me crazy," I 
retorted.

"That's what sisters are for," she came back with a laugh.

"I guess. I should have asked Mom and Dad for a brother instead 
of a sister."

That quip earned me an elbow, making me grunt. She could get 
heavy handed at times, and this was one of them. "Jeez, Sis. Take 
it easy. No wonder the guys are scared of you."

_Oh, shit! Now she'll rip my head off._

Luckily, she let that pass, and returned to her chair.

"So you're curious about what happened?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "As I said... I won't die if you want to 
keep it to yourself."

"Well, I have one word for you." She paused, waiting to see if 
she would draw a reaction from me. When I didn't respond, she 
continued. "Shampoo. Your new shampoo," she said, as if that 
explained all.

"My shampoo? What about my shampoo?" I asked, feigning 
puzzlement. I knew what she was getting at, but I wasn't going to 
confirm her suspicions.

"Come on, Mitch. I know what I smelled."

"Oh, really! Say, if I was sitting in a taxi for half an hour, 
which smelled like the prior occupant had broken a bottle of 
powerful perfume, you would assume I had been with a woman? Or 
because I didn't want to talk about the person I met in the 
airport--by the way, you don't know many of my high school 
friends--that person automatically becomes a _she_ with whom I'm 
having a secret affair? Interesting deductive technique, Sis. 
Warped, but interesting," I retorted with a smug smile.

That gave her a pause, but it was short lived.

"So, why did you say it was your shampoo, instead of explaining 
about the smelly taxi? I don't buy it, Bro."

"Believe what you will. You think I picked up somebody at the 
airport? Hmmm... I must be getting my old charm back in a hurry. 
Good, I can use some of that old charm at the party."

She knew I didn't have girl friends, especially in the last 
couple of years. She suspected I had a few short-lived flings and 
considering the fact that I wasn't a monk, she expected them, but 
she also knew they had been too infrequent for a guy my age. Even 
before all that, I wasn't much of a success with girls, so my 
last delivery gave her food for thought, so much so that her face 
fell. She remembered why I was away from home. I felt guilty 
making her feel bad, but more so because I had lied. Well, not 
exactly lied, but I had misrepresented partial truths, letting 
her draw her own conclusions. Of course I had met an old friend, 
and one that she knew--my nemesis--although we haven't gone to 
the same school, so that was definitely a misrepresentation. And, 
I didn't pick up Dana, she picked me up, so that wasn't much of a 
misrepresentation. I didn't know how I could justify my actions, 
even though she had no business nosing around my private affairs, 
but... She was my sister.

_Where do I draw the line? If I told her to mind her own 
business, I would be continuously fending off her probing. She 
would eventually succeed, unless I took stern measures, but then, 
that would mean hurting her feelings. She loves me, and she just 
doesn't take 'no' as an answer._

_I'm not going to hurt you, Kathy. I hurt enough people. 
Yesterday, 'her,' then this morning, Dana, and now..._

"Sis? It's OK!" I said softly.

She shook her head.

"Kathy!" I raised my voice trying to shake her up, and succeeding 
in getting her attention, I said, "I need your promise on 
something."

"What?"

"I need you to promise me something."

"What do I have to promise, Mitch?" she asked, curious and 
apprehensive at the same time.

"Nothing big or bad. I just want you to promise not to ask 
questions about what I'm going to tell you."

"You're scaring me, Mitch. I can't make a promise like that."

"Come on, Kathy. You don't trust me? It's nothing big or serious, 
but I don't want you bothering me with a lot of questions. You 
have to settle for what I'm going to tell you. Nothing more, 
nothing less."

She might have been unsettled, but her mind was still sharp, so 
she went for the jugular. "This is about yesterday, and your 
friend, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. Now, do I have your promise?"

"No, you don't. Eventually, you'll give it up," she retorted.

_Jeez, Kathy. Grow up, will you? I'm not going to put up with 
that._

"I think, I better stay here or get a room in a hotel," I 
replied.

"What are you hiding, Mitchell? You wouldn't go to such lengths, 
if it wasn't someth-- Oh, my God! You rat bastard! I was right. 
You lied to me, you little shit! And I was sitting here feeling 
sorry about you. How could you? I'm your sister!"

"Then, please, act like one, Kathy. And grow up, will you? I told 
you countless times not to nose into my affairs. Do I bother you 
about your boyfriends, or nose into your private affairs? No, I 
don't. When are you going to learn there are some boundaries, 
Sis?" I said softly, trying to reason with her, instead of using 
an admonishing tone. I was surprised at myself, and how calmly I 
delivered those words. If this had been happening a year or two 
ago, my tone would have been colored by irritation, if not filled 
with resentment.

Kathy didn't respond immediately, but kept her gaze on me 
scrutinizing me carefully. After several minutes, she said, "I 
know I deserve some of the things you said, but I don't think I 
deserved that line about staying here or in a hotel. I am your 
sister, Mitchell. Do you really feel like that? You're never 
around, and you've grown distant over the last several years. Do 
I deserve that? Do Mom and Dad deserve that?"

"Katherine, don't try the guilt trip on me," I replied, reverting 
to a formal tone, despite my best intentions. Collecting myself, 
I tried again, this time with a gentler tone. "We are not kids 
anymore. I have my own life, and you have yours. That's a fact of 
life. Just because I'm away doesn't mean I love you less. You 
left home before I did. I wasn't the one who went to boarding 
school at fifteen. You were the one who came home only during the 
weekends, holidays and vacation periods. You were the one who 
came back changed at an early age. Did I love you less for it, 
because you were away? Did I make an issue of it?"

I took a deep breath, and added, "I didn't even leave home for 
college, Kathy, because the local college had the best 
engineering branch in the whole country. You think I've changed 
in the last few years? I changed when I was a sophomore, and had 
to do my first industry training at the rig. I tasted freedom for 
a mere six weeks, but it was enough, I enjoyed it. I didn't 
particularly like the desert, but I was looking forward to going 
there again, after graduation. After my junior year, after the 
second industry practice, I was sure of it. What happened during 
the later part of that summer, had very little to do with my 
decision. Well, to a certain extent. I'm not going to get into 
the details. The point is I was going to go away from home."

"I'm not talking about your decision. I'm talking about how you 
grew distant," Kathy said.

"Come on, Kathy. You weren't the same when you came back from 
boarding school. We were suddenly distant. That's what happens. 
You had your peers, I had mine. Does that mean I loved you less, 
or you loved me less?"

She got thoughtful at that. "Yes, we were distant... to a certain 
degree... but..."

"But what, Kathy?"

"But I never shut anybody out of my life. You shunned everybody. 
Mom, Dad, me, your friends. You don't talk.

"Oh, come on. You're exaggerating the whole thing."

"Mitchell, that's enough bullshit. Are you blind... or in denial? 
You and Mom used to sit up late at night, talking till the wee 
hours of the morning. How do I know? Because, Mom told me. You 
used to laugh... a lot... when watching something on TV. You used 
to tell jokes. Now, not anymore. You never socialized much, but 
used to spend some time with friends. Now, you just take 
vacations by yourself. Tell me if I'm wrong."

"What do you want me to say, Kathy?"

"I want you to--"

"I'm not going to talk about it. Let's get that straight and out 
of the way. I don't feel like talking about some things. There is 
no way in hell anybody or anything that can or that will make me 
talk about things I don't want to discuss. Is that clear?"

When she didn't reply, I forced myself to relax, before I 
repeated my question. "Is that clear?"

She didn't reply, but was watching me carefully. Finally, 
breaking the silence, she said, "Tell me something, Mitch. Are 
you using your training, now?"

That non sequitur threw me for a loop.

"What?"

"Are you using your training? You know, the stuff that you used 
to practice? Something like meditation... the sinking into... I 
don't know what you used to call... the depth or something... the 
thing you explained you were using when practicing with your 
swords?"

"The Void?"

"Yeah, the void. Are you using that, now?"

"No. Why should I? I haven't used it for a long time, and my 
swords are here. I haven't touched them since... well... for 
quite some time."

"You don't practice anymore?" she blurted. It was obvious, she 
hadn't expected my answer.

"I practice Tai Chi. I haven't practiced anything else for quite 
some time. Why?"

"Nothing. I didn't expect you to quit your practice. On the 
previous subject, yes, we are clear," she said. "But that doesn't 
mean you're scot-free. I haven't made any promises."

"If that's the way it's going to be," I said with a shrug I 
didn't feel.

"You're still staying at my place, Bro."

"Now, you're dictating terms to me?" I asked, more amused than 
irritated. If this had happened a year or more ago...

She didn't answer, but kept watching me, searching my face, and I 
could see her mind was busy with something. Then with a chuckle, 
she said, "My, my, my... Whoever she is, I want to meet her... 
one day."

Her comment took me by surprise, making me realize how ill-
equipped I had been to deal with Kathy.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, putting all my acting 
abilities to put the right tone of puzzlement in my voice.

"You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about, or rather, _whom_ I'm 
talking about. She must be something... How long have you known 
her?" she asked, going straight for the kill.

"Kathy, I told you a minute ago. You have to know when to leave 
the table, while you're still ahead. So, back off. You know I 
don't like to repeat myself."

I wasn't pissed at all, and I should have been. Somehow I found 
myself rather enjoying her efforts, and fending off her 
attention. It reminded me of earlier years, when we were kids. I 
missed her sharp mind. But, still, I wasn't ready to talk about 
my private affairs. At least I was enjoying this sibling battle, 
instead of resenting her. She was, after all, being Kathy.

"For the time being, Mitch... for the time being... I can wait. 
For what it's worth, she's good for you. I can see that. You may 
not have realized it, but I haven't seen you so calm for a long 
time, even when I was getting on your nerves. You have to decide 
where you want to stay. Don't worry, I'll give you your space and 
won't bother you anymore," she said. Then with a wicked grin, she 
added, "Not any more than I have to, that is. I'd rather have you 
at my place, but it's up to you."

_Do I want to stay at your place? Tough question. I don't want to 
be put through the grinder again, Kathy. I love you, but you try 
my patience. I hope I won't hurt your feelings, if you keep it up 
too long._

I knew she wanted me at her place, and I missed her as much as 
she missed me. In the end, it wasn't hard to decide. She still 
had to go to school and work, so even if she wanted to grill me 
she wouldn't have much time to do it, and I doubted she would 
attempt something like this anytime soon. What's more, I wanted 
to make her happy.

"Sure, Sis. I'll stay at your place. No problems."

"Thank you, Mitch."

"You're welcome," I replied with a patronizing tone, but she knew 
I was teasing her, so she didn't rise to the bait.

"So, what's the plan, Bro? What do you want to do?"

"I'd like to take a short nap. I'm pretty tired from the last few 
days. Then we'll see how it goes. Are you working tomorrow?"

"Nope, I'm off duty until Monday. A few of the girls owed me 
time, so we switched and shuffled the shifts."

_Isn't that just great!!!_

I quickly chased that thought away. She had gone to great lengths 
to be with me and here I was acting unappreciative.

"Tomorrow I need to go to the garage, and that would probably 
take several hours, perhaps half a day. I'm afraid, you'd be 
wasting your off duty time."

"Can't you just leave the car, and then pick it up when it's 
ready?"

"I want to be there when they go over it. I want to make sure 
they do it properly."

"Sometimes you go overboard, Mitch. Don't you ever trust people?"

"Let me tell you something, Sis. If I had to let our rig mechanic 
check my car, I could easily trust him, because I know him and 
how thorough he is. I don't know the guys in the garage. I can't 
assume they'll do a good job. Say, one of the guys didn't check 
the brake pads and replace the worn out ones, and I had to brake 
hard, what do you think would happen? Working on the rig-site I 
have learned never to assume anything. We even have a good saying 
about that particular habit: 'Assumptions are the mother of all 
fuck ups'."

"You're such a control freak."

"Just because I'm being cautious? Whatever you say, Sis."

She shrugged it off, and said, "We'd better get moving then."

"What about Mom and Dad?"

"We'll be having dinner here, tomorrow night, and I think Mom 
would appreciate if you could get here early in the afternoon."

I nodded my agreement.

We said our goodbyes to Mom--Dad was asleep--and left for Kathy's 
place, in her car.



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 10: Siblings



Kathy had a nice, small, two-bedroom flat, not too far from where 
my parents lived. Although the place was small, especially the 
living room, which included a modern kitchen in one corner, she 
managed to make it look bigger that it was.

I hadn't seen it for quite some time, and the few occasions I 
dropped by were just to take her out to some place. I had a late 
brunch or lunch with her a few times, but I hadn't paid much 
attention to her place, and what she had done with it. Now, 
because I was going to spend some time here, I was curious how it 
looked like, and what changes she had made.

I still remembered the time when my parents and I had to help her 
to make the move, two years ago. Mom and Kathy had spent several 
days during a short break Kathy had from her studies, visiting 
second hand stores for some good quality furniture, and making 
the arrangements for delivery, while Dad and I had spent a few 
days, going through the flat, fixing things like electrical 
wiring and fittings, window insulation, and any other simple 
things we could fix. We also had compiled a list of items that 
would require an electrician, a carpenter and a plumber to fix, 
and then waited on the guys while they did their job.

To tell the truth I wasn't much of a handy man, never had been 
one, but I had learned some things on the rig, especially about 
electrical safety and some plumbing, so when I saw what the 
electrician was doing--the one we called from a nearby shop in 
the neighborhood--I got into an argument with him. I had a copy 
of the building code in my hand and saw him using the wrong rated 
cable to replace the existing but damaged wiring. When Dad 
realized what was happening, he ran him off. Quite many of the 
electricians, plumbers and carpenters learned their craft as 
apprentices, but the whole apprenticeship was very flawed--the 
education system wasn't much of a help also, without proper 
control mechanisms in place--and, with many of the the guys 
lacking some necessary education in science and math, and worse, 
lacking an interest in their craft, it was always a very 
difficult proposition to find a good, and reliable electrician or 
a plumber. That is not to say there weren't qualified people, 
like high school or college graduates, but the ones that actually 
did the work were only skilled for manual work, and the college 
graduates were more of the engineer type who weren't inclined to 
get their hands dirty doing the menial work, but supervise the 
ones that did the menial work. But, there were many small shops 
that were sort of a jack-of-all-tades kind, and did a lot of 
repairs, fixes from electricity to plumbing to carpentry, and the 
quality varied a lot. The worst part of the whole deal was, of 
course, the quick-and-dirty fixes they came up with during a job. 
For example, they would use a size smaller cable not rated for 
the job, if they ran out of the required cable when they were 
doing the wiring, not giving a second thought to the possibility 
of an electrical fire hazard. If I hadn't seen how things were 
done by our electrician at the rig site, and learned things from 
him, I wouldn't be aware of such problems. Not only that, but in 
the first place, he should have known his stuff and done it 
properly--as na�ve as that sounds--but such was the situation, 
and if you didn't take precautions and had no idea what they were 
doing, you could easily get screwed, major time! So, in the end, 
I went through the _Yellow Pages_, looking for a good 
electrician, instead of the local quick-fix type of shops in the 
neighborhood. I found a couple, but when I heard their prices, 
Dad and I knew we had to do some work ourselves. Dad managed to 
convince one of them to send a guy in to check the situation and 
make us a list of what is needed, and then we would try to do 
parts we could, and give the rest of the work to them. It worked 
perfectly, and I remember how proud Dad was, when the electrician 
came to do their part, and inspecting my work, gave a more than a 
passing note. I guess, it was because Dad was worse than me as a 
handy man. He could do some carpentry(!)--read, could nail two 
wooden planks--and fix some simple plumbing problems, and that 
was the extent of his abilities. Well, that was to be expected, 
as he was a white-collar; having been a desk jockey most of his 
life. I was supposed to be a white-collar, too, but ended up 
being something of a white- and blue-collar.

After all the work was done, we helped the women folk to clean 
the house. Then, while they got busy buying and fixing curtains 
and other necessary stuff, Dad and I did the painting, something 
which we both were very accustomed to, after moving from one 
rental place to another several times over the years. And since 
Mom and Kathy weren't around, we could get it done without any 
interference from them. I guess we both had fun, and surely, 
without the distraction of comments like: "Be careful. You're 
dripping paint there!" or "This part requires another coat!" and 
similar, we finished the job in record time. Afterwards, we had 
to clean up a few spots, but there weren't many spills or paint 
drops. I remember Dad and I sharing a look and bursting into 
laughter; we both were thinking whether the presence of the women 
during the previous times was what jinxed the painting jobs.

Finally, the day arrived for the move, and we packed Kathy's 
stuff, and got it moved to her flat, and during the day, the 
other deliveries, such as the furniture from various stores 
arrived. Dad and I made several trips back and forth to get some 
of the delicate stuff like TV, stereo, and glassware, not 
trusting a moving company to be careful with the stuff. It wasn't 
a long distance, and required only a few trips from my parents' 
place to Kathy's flat. In a few hours we finished the whole move. 
By evening time, Dad and I finished assembling the bookshelves, 
the bed, the wardrobe, while the women got the kitchen in order, 
unpacking the glassware and other stuff. Just before dinner time, 
we had the living room also sorted out, the furniture placed as 
required, and then Dad and I went out to get two big pizzas and a 
bottle of red wine to celebrate. After dinner , at Mom's urging 
we didn't hang around but left; she knew Kathy was anxious to 
have the place to herself for the first time in her life. Next 
day, I was on the road for my vacation. When I returned, I saw 
Kathy before taking my flight, and she told me about her first 
night in her flat; she had been up all night long, sitting in the 
living room, reading and listening to music, finally going to bed 
around four in the morning, tired, but happy. I could sympathize 
with the feeling.

I looked around to see if she made any changes, but it looked the 
same. There were few additions; a couple of small low tables next 
to the couches, and a sturdy low table for the TV and the stereo 
which used to sit on the floor, a sit-sack, and some new pictures 
on the walls. I remember the time Kathy and I shopped for some 
pictures and posters, and framing them at home before hanging 
them on the walls. _The Scripps Pier_ by Ansel Adams--my choice 
which Kathy loved--and a few more reproductions of his scenic 
photos occupied the main wall behind the big couch. By the side 
of the window were small sized pictures, mostly the works of Kim 
Anderson, which I thought were really girly-girl kind of 
pictures, especially Kathy's favorite, _The First Kiss_, but I 
knew why she had chosen it. Dad had taken a picture of us when we 
were about three or four years old, that depicted us in a similar 
pose--I didn't have a rose in my hand, but I was kissing Kathy on 
the cheek. Her new additions to the collection were a bunch of 
medium size pictures of smoke filled rooms and Jazz Musicians, 
occupying an empty spot on the wall, above the stereo. I wasn't 
sure if she had chosen them for the mood the pictures depicted, 
rather than an actual interest in Jazz music, but Kathy was 
always full of surprises--and I wasn't stupid enough to bet 
either way!

I took my suitcase to the spare bedroom. I recognized her old 
bed. It used to be in her bedroom, but it looked like she had 
changed the bed in the master bedroom, and put her old bed here. 
Above the bed, on the wall, was a picture that I knew very well; 
one of the female nude works of Mick Payton. I had sneaked it in 
without Kathy's knowledge when we were shopping for pictures, and 
later hung it in her bedroom, earning myself a quip: "Hey! I'd 
rather have a picture of some hunk in my bedroom. Something that 
shows tight buns, and not tits!"

I turned at her, giving a quizzical look about the picture.

"Well, if you'd rather prefer, I can hang one of the Kim Anderson 
pictures," she said flashing me a teasing grin.

"No, thank you. That will do _just fine_!" I replied hastily.

"I thought it would," she said, before leaving the room.

_Paybacks... eventually they catch up, whatever I do to evade 
them!_

I smiled at the thought, since it was obvious Kathy had on 
purpose moved the picture from her bedroom to what was, now, 
temporarily my bedroom. I would have preferred one of the Ansel 
Adams scenic photos, but...

I checked what was brought here from my parents', and went 
through the wardrobe. It looked like almost all my clothes were 
brought in, some already in the hangers, and the rest distributed 
in various shelves. Other items like socks, underwear, etc. were 
in one of the drawers. As I was checking out shelves, and 
drawers, I noticed a black duffel bag at the bottom floor of the 
wardrobe. I took it out and set it on the floor. Opening the 
zipper, I checked the contents. It had been a long time, but I 
knew what was in there: my practice katana, wakizashi, a bokken 
(the wooden sword), a white gi set (the canvas cotton trousers 
and jacket), a long and narrow carry bag with a shoulder sling 
for the swords, and a small box with various items related to 
upkeep of the swords. I took out the bokken and the katana to 
inspect them. Pulling the katana from its scabbard, I checked the 
polish. Satisfied with that, I tested the balance and the feel of 
the sword. It felt heavier than I thought it was, but more than 
that, it was disconcerting to discover that it felt foreign; it 
wasn't a natural extension anymore.

_Do I want to practice again? I don't know. Maybe I should start 
practicing with the bokken and see where it would take me._

Carefully sliding the blade into the scabbard, I returned the 
katana into the duffel bag and picked up the bokken. It was still 
in good condition. The surface was slick with wood oil and I 
didn't see any cracks. I was zipping up the duffel bag when I 
felt Kathy standing at the door. Looking over my shoulder, I saw 
her scrutinizing me. I was surprised that this duffel bag was 
here. I expected it to be left at my parents' place. Kathy had 
never said anything, but I always thought she didn't like some of 
my training, and wasn't comfortable with the contents of the 
duffel bag. Another subject I was loath to talk about, especially 
with Kathy.

When I raised an eyebrow, she said, "If you have any dirty 
laundry in your suitcase, I can put them in the washer."

"I don't have much, Sis. I can get it."

"Well, if you want to risk wearing pink underwear, then do it 
yourself."

"Come on, Sis. Whites separate, colored separate. I've washed my 
own stuff before."

"Do you iron as well?" she teased.

"Don't rub it in, will you?"

She wasn't going to let it go. "Do you still cook?"

"Nope. We have cooks and other staff that do the cleaning and 
washing at the rig-site."

"Well, since you've been spoiled by all that service, I better 
get your stuff washed," she retorted with a snort.

"Suit yourself. It's not locked," I replied, then took the duffel 
bag and placed it back in the wardrobe. I put the wooden sword on 
the dresser. I wanted to take it with me for the vacation, and I 
didn't want to forget it. Sensing I was being watched, I turned 
to face Kathy.

"Are you going to practice?" she asked.

"Nope. I'll take it with me for my vacation."

She had an unreadable expression on her face.

"Kathy, what is it?"

"Nothing," she replied. Before I could say anything, she turned 
and got busy going through my suitcase, separating the items into 
neat piles for washing. Over her shoulder, she said, "You'll find 
a bath towel in the bathroom. Go and take a shower, then get some 
sleep. I need to do some shopping--back in a few hours."

Fifteen minutes later I was in bed. I wasn't sure if I would get 
much sleep, but a short nap wouldn't do any harm. I still had to 
catch up with my sleep.



* * * * *



_The sky was a strange mix of blue and gray, the darker colored 
clouds in constant shift, mixing and interloping with each other. 
Standing on the wet sand, I looked at where the horizon should 
be, but I couldn't distinguish sea from sky. They were both the 
same indistinct blue-gray. The rain was coming down gently, but 
in a continuous sheet, made up of fine droplets, blurring the 
details. The whole scene looked like a delicate painting on rice 
paper._

_I heard footsteps on wooden planks and turned towards the sound. 
A girl was walking, headed for the small boat secured to the side 
of the wharf. Untying the ropes, she threw them in and jumped in 
the boat. I didn't catch her face, but she looked familiar. I was 
trying to get a good look and almost started in her direction, 
when I was stopped by a hand on my arm. I turned around and came 
face to face with Dana. She released her hold and brushing my 
cheek with the back of her fingers, pulled me for a gentle kiss. 
Breaking the kiss, she nodded in the direction of the boat. When 
I turned back, I saw 'her'--19 years old, her black hair wet and 
stringy from rain--sitting in the boat; one hand on one of the 
oars and the other waving me goodbye. She had a happy smile on 
her face. I wasn't sure if her face was wet from tears or the 
rain._

_I looked back at Dana and she shooed me away, urging me to go to 
the boat. When I didn't respond, her expression changed and she 
mouthed, "Go!"_

_When I turned my attention back to the boat, the girl was 
already getting ready to row away from the wharf. As I started to 
walk towards her, she saw me coming and waved goodbye again, then 
started rowing the boat away. I ran, but she shook her head with 
a smile on her face. By the time I was at the edge of the wharf, 
the boat was out of reach. She stopped rowing and motioned me to 
go back._

_I heard footsteps behind me and a quick glance revealed Dana 
making her way to me. Her eyes were on the boat and when she was 
standing next to me, she beckoned to the boat, urging the girl to 
row back to the wharf. But, the girl just shook her head and gave 
a small wave, bidding Dana and I goodbye, and picked up the oars 
again. I felt Dana push me over the side and fell into the 
water..._

With a lurch I came awake, feeling somebody trying to push me 
back to bed and something wet on my forehead.

"Shssshhh! Mitch. Take it easy. You were having a bad dream," 
somebody whispered.

I was panting and I couldn't get enough oxygen. The air seemed 
too thin. I tried to breathe normally, but felt like I was 
suffocating. Something cold soothed my forehead and a cold hand 
caressed my neck, while a soft voice repeated, "Breathe slowly. 
Calm down."

The cold hand and the wet towel on my forehead helped me to focus 
my attention, and collect my senses. My breathing eased. Feeling 
my back arched, muscles tensed, I relaxed and let myself onto the 
bed. Kathy was leaning over me, concern written all over her 
face. Trying to ease her worries I tried to smile, but she didn't 
buy it.

"I'm OK, Kathy. Just a bad dream."

"Who is the doctor here?" she replied. She lifted the sheet and 
ran her hand over my chest. "You're wet. You don't have a fever, 
but you're wet with sweat. That's not good, Mitch."

"Maybe I'm coming down with something. It was cold the last two 
nights on the rig, and I spent most of the time outside," I 
offered.

"Maybe," she replied, but she wasn't convinced. "Do you remember 
anything of your dream?"

"No. I only remember falling and that's when I woke up. I'll be 
all right, Sis. I just need a shower."

Taking the wet towel, she wiped my face and neck, then asked me 
to sit up. When I did, she asked if I was feeling dizzy, but I 
was feeling OK. She didn't interrogate me further, which 
surprised me, but I was grateful for the break.

I took a long luxurious shower, while she changed the sheets on 
the bed. I was troubled by the dream and what it meant. I didn't 
have episodes like that. I had nightmares, but I didn't remember 
much of them afterwards, and usually they were a jumble of things 
that didn't make any sense. Contrary to what I said, I remembered 
everything that took place in this dream. When I walked into the 
living room, I found Kathy talking on the phone. Seeing me, she 
cut her talk short and finished the call.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm all right. Sooo... what's the plan?" I said, trying to 
change the subject.

"You still feel like going out? I could fix something here."

"Kathy, when I say I'm all right, I mean _all right_. So, tell 
me.. where do you want to go?"

"There's a new place, really a strange mix, though. Owned and 
operated by a Russian couple, they have Russian and Greek 
specialties. I think you'll like it. They also have live music, 
first some Russian folk music with balalaika, and later, Greek 
music with bouzouki."

"That's a strange mix. Why don't they go with one or the other as 
a theme?"

"I don't know. I think the guy is Russian and the girl is Greek, 
or something," Kathy replied with a chuckle.

"Sounds good to me. Who's driving?"

"We're taking a cab. I'm going to drink and I know you'd like to 
have a few. I want both of us to enjoy the night."

That was strange. I knew she drank, but not much. Usually she 
ended up being the designated driver, so she didn't drink most of 
the time.

_Taking a cab means she's going to let her hair down. Is that 
good or bad? Let's see._

"I can do without the drinks. No need to take a cab. I'll drive."

"If you want to, but I think you'll miss the fun and the 
atmosphere," she replied and headed to her room to change.

_Hmmm ... She doesn't look like she's planning anything._

I watched the news on TV for a few minutes, but getting bored 
with the repetitious crap about a fire in a hotel, I switched to 
a documentary channel. Kathy came back, dressed in a slinky, 
black evening dress, and high heels, with a small overcoat in her 
hand. She had a little bit of make-up and I didn't see any 
jewelry, which reminded me...

"You look good. I better take my jacket," I said and went to my 
room to pick up the little present for her.

When she found out what I had bought her, she loved it and 
immediately put it on. With the d�colletage in the front, the 
necklace made a striking contrast with the dress and her tanned 
skin; just as I expected when I bought it. Before we left, I 
remembered I had to call Dana tonight.

"Kathy, are we going to be staying up late?"

"No, not really. That's why we're going early. They close the 
place by midnight, and it's a weeknight. They are open later 
hours only on Fridays and Saturdays. Why?"

"I need to make a call tonight and I don't know if I have to 
leave a message for them to expect a call or not."

"_Them_? You mean _her_, don't you?" she said with a snort.

When I didn't react, she said, "I'll be good, Mitch. I'll be 
reeaaal gooood," making me laugh.

"Yeah? Why am I afraid of that?"

"Come on. Let's go. We have to be back in time for your call... 
to _them_!" she retorted, letting out a teasing laugh.



* * * * *



The restaurant was on the outskirts, in a pretty run-down section 
of town. From the outside it didn't look like much, but the 
inside was a surprise. Ambient lighting was low, but not 
uncomfortably dark. The dark wood finish on the walls gave a 
sense of being in an old house. Old oil lamps complimented the 
atmosphere. The chairs were also wood, stylish in an old 
fashioned manner, but uncomfortable. However, the whole 
atmosphere was great, and with the live music and great tasting 
food, that little discomfort was easy to overlook.

I'd had Greek food a lot of times, so I went for the Russian 
specialties, complimented with a small bottle of vodka. Kathy 
chose Greek specialties and enjoyed a few glasses of Ouzo. I was 
surprised to see her drink that much, but she didn't show it at 
all. I've known girls who could drink, but only a few that liked 
Ouzo. It was, after all, an acquired taste. We tried a few bites 
from each other's plates. I was curious to see how good their 
Greek specialties were, compared to the other places I've been, 
and found out that some of the dishes were as good as I've ever 
had. Next time I would definitely go Greek.

By the time the night was drawing to a close, Kathy was getting a 
bit giggly--well, more like nicely buzzed and bubbly. I loved to 
see her like that. But, she was careful and didn't go to excess. 
She ordered a cup of Greek coffee. I, on the other hand, chose to 
finish off my vodka with a lemon twist. A few years back, I had 
had a bad reaction to coffee after imbibing vodka, and I didn't 
want a repeat.

I paid the tab and we left, arriving home before midnight. I 
didn't have to wait too long for the quip.

"While I'm changing into something comfortable, why don't you 
call... _them_?" she said and headed to her room.

After digging out Dana's number from my wallet, I called her. She 
picked it up after the second ring; must have been expecting my 
call. We talked about her day. She sounded tired but chipper, 
telling me she would rearrange her schedule and take a couple of 
days off. But, that would have to wait until Monday. When I asked 
if, in the next couple of days, she would be spending a few hours 
at the airport here, between flights, she was hesitant to answer.

"Will you pass through the airport here, or have an overnight 
stay?"

"Ummm. Probably..."

"Probably? You don't know your schedule?"

"It's... complicated."

_Complicated? What's going on, Dana?_

I was a bit disappointed, but more than that, I was scared. Was 
she having second thoughts?

"OK..."

"Mitch, it's not what you think," she said in a hurry, hearing 
the uncertainty in my tone.

"It's all right, Dana. I understand," I replied, trying hard to 
keep the strain from my voice.

"It's not about you. It's... Well, she will be back on Saturday, 
and I'll be flying with her the next couple of days," she replied 
with a sigh.

"I see..."

_Damn! This complicates things, but I can't keep on planning my 
life around HER! This isn't fair to Dana, or to me._

I was getting agitated. I didn't know what to say to Dana. I was 
tempted to say 'the hell with _her_!' but I didn't want to put 
Dana in an awkward position.

"Dana, I don't know what to say... No, that's not true. I know 
what I want to say, but I don't want to put pressure on you or 
put you on the spot. Dammit! This is getting ridiculous!"

"Mitch, calm down. Look, this is something we knew was coming. We 
can't avoid it."

"I-I... I can't keep planning my life around her," I blurted.

Dana went quiet at that.

"Dana, you there?"

"Yes, Mitch..."

"I'm sorry. I just want to get to know you and... it feels like I 
won't even get that chance."

"Mitch, we both need time. We can't rush into this. Don't you 
think a few days apart will be good for both of us?"

"I... Yeah. I know, but... If you're saying this because of her, 
I can't accept it. If you're saying it because that's the way you 
feel..."

"Now, you are putting me on the spot, Mitch."

That gave me a pause. I didn't want to put pressure on her, but 
then I remembered my dream and that filled me with a chill.

"Mitch?"

"Sorry. You're right... A few days apart might do us some good."

"Mitch, I miss you... it's not been a day yet, and I miss you. 
But, we need to be patient, and work this thing out," she said 
softly.

"I miss you too, Dana. I'll wait..."

"Good. Now... I can't promise anything, but if I figure out 
something I'll let you know. Where can I reach you?"

"That's going to be a problem. I'm staying with my sis, and... 
well... it's kinda _complicated_," I finished using her own 
expression, and laughing at my choice.

"What kinda _complicated_?" she asked with an amused tone.

"She's being kinda _sisterly_."

"She figured out you have a new woman in your life?" she asked 
with a giggle.

"Yeah... something like that. It's not that I'm trying to keep it 
a secret, but she usually gets overzealous trying to figure out 
what's happening in my life," I said with a resigned tone.

"If she's the kind that I'm guessing she is, she probably cares 
and is being protective."

"I can do without the protection."

That earned me a laugh and she came back with, "That bad, huh?"

"Try, 'not taking _no_ for an answer' for size and see how it 
fits," I retorted.

"Ohh... she's my kind of girl," she teased. "How old is she?"

"Physically or mentally?" I quipped getting a giggle for my 
effort. "She's 24, but her mental age varies between 15 and 60."

"That sounds just about right... I've got to meet her sometime," 
she replied with an amused tone, and I chuckled at her reply.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"Come on, Mitch."

"Even though I didn't admit to anything, she had said exactly the 
same thing: 'I've got to meet her one day'."

"Well... I can arrange that," she teased, making me shiver at the 
thought.

"Oh, I'm sure you would get along fine. At least, you share the 
same passion and have a similar background. I'm just worried 
about how I could deal with the two of you."

"Really? Tell me more. What's she like? What does she do?"

"She's at the med school; finished her sixth year a few months 
ago. Now, she's going for her specialization."

"Wow! Seriously, Mitch. If you don't mind, I would really like to 
meet her."

"Oh, I do mind! But... I don't see how I could prevent it," I 
replied half-joking, but there was a slight edge to my voice.

That gave her a pause and she hesitantly asked, "You're serious 
about this, aren't you?"

"It's not about you, Dana. It's about the past, and _her_. I 
don't talk about her and nobody knows much about what happened or 
how it happened..."

I didn't finish my sentence, but Dana was quick to get my 
meaning.

"You mean, I'm the only one..."

"Yes. Look, I'm not implying anything, OK? I just know my sister. 
She's devious. I can't even think of a plausible answer to the 
question of how we met or why we met. A small slip up, and she'll 
be all over me like white on rice. She won't try anything with 
you, but I'll be put through the wringer. I love her, but I won't 
put up with certain things."

Changing to a less serious tone, I added, "I don't really mind 
it, Dana. I think it might be good, especially if you can, 
somehow rein her in. I love her too much and she... well, she 
knows that."

"Are you sure, you're not scared of the idea that your sister and 
I would form a sisterly pact?" she teased.

"Well... OK! I'll admit it. The thought crossed my mind... more 
than once," I replied with a chuckle. "How serious are you about 
meeting her, Dana?"

"Pretty serious."

"Any particular reason?"

"It's hard to explain... We really need to talk about these 
things face to face, Mitch."

"I guess... I was just curious. I don't need to know your 
reasons. Maybe it would be better. I have handled her before, so 
don't worry about it too much."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Dana, I'm sure. I don't want to sneak around, or hide."

"OK!" she said. After a short pause, she asked, "You're not going 
to tease her to death about me, are you?"

I almost missed the amused tone. She was sharp. I hadn't even 
thought about the possibilities. I would have eventually, but 
Dana had beaten me to it.

"Darn! I was just thinking about the possibilities. How did you--
"

"Honey, if I were in your shoes, I would have. After all the 
things you said about her..."

"Hmmm... I'm not going to regret my decision, am I?"

"I love you too much for that," she said, her voice filled with 
emotion.

"I... I wanted to say those words first, Dana. Tonight just 
doesn't seem to be my night."

"You said it first, Mitch... if you remember..."

"Yes, but... you know what I mean."

"I know." After a pause, she changed the subject, "Is she listed 
in the directory?"

"Yeah. Katherine Tanner."

For extra measure I gave her the number and address, which she 
noted down. As we finished our conversation with "I love you," my 
sister walked in, wearing her bathrobe and a towel wrapped around 
her hair.

When I looked up, she had an amused expression.

"Strange way to end a conversation. Considering, you were talking 
to _them_," she quipped.

When I didn't respond, she continued, "I never thought I would 
hear you say those words again, Bro."

That reminded me... _She_ had been the only one until recently.

_Do I still love her, or am I in love with that 19 year old girl? 
What's going to happen with her... and Dana? What's the meaning 
of the dream?_

I didn't have an answer to any one of them.

"Why? I say those words to you and good friends. I said it... to 
_them_," I replied with a teasing grin.

"_Them_? Come on, Mitch. Why don't you spell it out? She's not a 
_them_. She has a name. At least use her name or say _she_. Do I 
have to find it out using my own means?"

"That would prove to be a difficult task, Sis. You don't know 
_them_. You never met _them_," I goaded her. I was enjoying 
myself too much, especially pressing her buttons, after all the 
headache she had given me. I would eventually let her know, but I 
wanted her to sweat a bit.

"_Really_?" she responded with an ominous tone, and I felt the 
hair rise at the back of my neck. Kathy never shied away from 
challenges. This wasn't the first time I wondered how we managed 
to avoid killing each other, considering how stubborn and 
competitive we had been since childhood.

_What's she up to?_

"Yes, really. I gave you the opportunity before. You just had to 
give me your promise. Instead, you decided to act like a child. 
Give me your promise and I'll tell you about... _them_," I 
replied, flashing a grin.

"How about... I don't give you my promise... and..."

"And?"

"Still find out about her... for example who she is?" she 
retorted smugly.

"Not from me, Sis. I ain't saying nothing about... _them_!"

"I didn't say you would. I just don't want you to get pissed off, 
when I get her name. That's all!"

"Oh, I'm not worried about that."

"OK! By the way, I'm going to throw you a freebie, and won't 
bother you with questions. Just so, you can't say I wasn't being 
sporting about this."

I felt something cold run at my back, and almost shivered at the 
feeling. She never gave freebies!

_Fuck! Twice in a day? I know you have a devious mind, but you 
can't be that lucky. What the hell am I missing?_

"If you're not going to bother me with questions, why is it so 
difficult to give me your promise?" I asked.

"A promise is indefinite. It closes all the doors, and I know 
you'll hold me to it."

"And the freebie is not a promise? It sounded almost like a 
promise."

"That's where you're mistaken, dear brother. I'll get her name by 
my own means and I won't bother you with questions, until you 
tell me about her. After that, the doors don't stay closed. 
That's the difference."

Giving me a devilish grin, she continued, "Not only that, but I 
can change my mind anytime I want. After all, I'm a woman and we 
are entitled. I won't do that with a promise, and you know that."

I couldn't help but laugh at her antics. She could be 
entertaining when she wanted to be. She seemed so sure of herself 
I wanted to see how creative she would get, and how long it would 
take her to find out Dana's identity.

"OK. I'll play. Do your worst."

Suddenly, she got serious. "Mitch, I don't want to piss you off, 
OK? She's good for you, and I wouldn't mess it up for anything. 
Especially, something trivial like this challenge."

"It's all right, Kathy. Really. I'm just curious what you're 
planning and how long it will take you."

She was still not convinced, and for the first time I noticed 
something else. She was apprehensive about the aftermath; if our 
relationship would change for the worse.

"Kathy, I'm game. Go ahead. Just like the old times."

When she heard that she knew I meant it and her face lit up with 
enthusiasm. I guess we both missed our childhood closeness and 
here was a moment that captured it. With a mischievous twinkle in 
her eyes, she asked, "Have you got a watch, dear brother?"

"Watch? For what?"

"I think this will be a record in terms of the shortest battle 
ever fought. I want it recorded for posterity!" she retorted with 
a big grin.

"Sheeesh, Kathy. I hope you won't be rubbing it in every minute 
of the day." I was getting into the spirit of things.

"Ahh, Mitch, I love you too much for that."

At that, I almost blurted out what Dana had said.

_I think you two will get along just fine, when you get to meet 
each other._

"I'm waiting, Sis. I'm curious how you're going to pull up a 
rabbit from a non-existent hat."

With a smile on her face she walked to the telephone and picked 
it up.

"I have my magic hat here," she retorted wickedly.

_Shit! Redial. For fuck's sake, how the hell did I not think of 
it? She gave me enough hints and enough warning. She had been a 
real sport with this. I'll give her that._

Kathy was probably going to fake a wrong number call. I tried to 
recall how Dana responded to my call; she had used her full name. 
Kathy pressed the redial button and listened.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I must have dialed the wrong number."

While I expected the call to end, I saw Kathy sputter, her 
expression changing to a stunned surprise. She hesitated for a 
moment before replying with a timid, "Y-yes." The call wasn't 
finished and Kathy was still listening. I heard several 'hmmms' 
and 'ahhhs,' with a 'yes' thrown in between.

_What the hell's going on?_

Finally, Kathy said, "Yes. I will. I'm sorry to disturb you at 
this late hour." Then she finished the call with a "Good night."

She had a dazed expression on her face, but also a smile.

"OK, what just happened"? I asked, dreading the answer. From her 
expression, I was pretty sure Dana had caught Kathy at her game.

"You have a very cool girl friend, Mitch. I like her."

"She figured out who you were?" I asked the obvious.

"It seems she had been forewarned," she came back.

"I didn't say anything."

"Well, it seems you've talked about me. When my call came a few 
minutes after yours, she got suspicious. So, she took a potshot, 
and... well, she scored."

"Well, you did deserve that."

"Yeah, I did. It was pretty embarrassing at first, but she was 
cool."

I nodded.

"She told me to tell you that everything was all right. She 
suggested I talk to you first, before you called her back."

"What else did she say?"

"Nothing. She was trying to put me at ease, that's all. She also 
said that she would like a call back from you. She'll be up for 
another hour."

"OK, I'll call her. Anything else?"

"Nope."

"No, I mean, no questions from you?"

"Well... I'm dying to know about her, but I'll wait. Just don't 
make me wait too long."

"Kathy I can't promise anything; that's why I was trying to get 
your promise. You know me well enough to understand that I have 
my reasons. This isn't a high school romance thing."

She nodded, still a bit shaken.

I called Dana and we had a short talk.

"How is she taking it?" she asked.

"Pretty much dazed. How did you catch her?"

"Nobody calls me at this hour, and it was a young woman's voice, 
and it came not too long after your call. I was just going to let 
it pass as a wrong number call, but... people are usually 
careful, especially young women, at this late hour, about whom 
they dial."

She was sharp and her reasoning was simple. I laughed at how 
easily Kathy had been figured out.

"Don't laugh, Mitch," she admonished me.

"Why shouldn't I? You don't know what she did before pulling that 
trick on me."

"She's a clever girl, Mitch, and resourceful. So what did you 
lose?"

"Oh, nothing serious. In fact, I don't think she'll gloat about 
this, at all."

"What do you mean?"

"She had the gall to ask me if I had a watch."

"Watch?" Dana repeated, confused.

"Yeah. She said she wanted this to be recorded for posterity for 
the shortest battle ever fought."

I had to keep the handset off my ear, as Dana let out a hoot. 
When she collected herself, she said, "I like her. She plays for 
keeps."

"Well... I like her too. Especially the new Kathy I have," I said 
loudly, so Kathy would hear me.

"Leave me out of your sibling rivalry, Mitch. And be nice to 
her," Dana said.

Just then I had a pillow on my head. As usual, Kathy was 
reverting to her teenage self.

"Uh, OK! Are you sure you wouldn't give me a hand with a pillow 
fight I'm invited to?"

"What did she do? Throw a pillow?"

"Yep."

"You deserved it, Mitch."

"I guess, I did. I better not keep you up. It's already late."

"Tell her I like her. And, Mitch... I love you."

"I love you too, Dana. Sleep tight."

When I sat on the couch next to Kathy, she looked up expectantly.

"I gathered you got her name. We've...just met, and somehow hit 
it off. She's a few years older than me, and... well, we want to 
see where we go. It's too early to say anything."

She wasn't satisfied with that, so she asked, "Can't you at least 
tell me how you met her or what she does for work?"

Those particular questions were the ones that I dreaded. They 
could open a whole can of worms and I didn't want that. Kathy had 
an incredible mind, when I least expected it.

"We've met at the airport... but actually... she was on the same 
flight I was."

Kathy was putting me under the microscope again and she knew I 
wasn't telling her much. She also saw through how carefully I 
constructed my reply. To my surprise, she moved on... to 
something I didn't want to talk about at all.

"OK. So, you saw her in the plane. What does she do?"

"She's a flight attendant," I replied trying to keep my voice 
level.

For a moment her eyes widened in surprise and I could hear the 
wheels turning in her head. I don't know what she thought, but to 
my surprise she changed the subject, swiftly.

"It's getting late, Bro. It's time to hit the bed. Tomorrow we 
need to wake up early. We'll catch breakfast with Mom and Dad, 
and then you can collect your car and go to the garage."

I realized I was holding my breath and I let it out slowly. I 
nodded and gave her a goodnight kiss, before I made my way to my 
room.



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 11: The 'Void'



Next morning, I woke up early. After lazing in the bed for a few 
minutes, I got out. It was too early for Kathy to wake up, so 
putting on some sweats I went out for a short jog.

The air outside was chilly. Not to risk a cramp I started to walk 
at a brisk pace in the direction of a playground not far from her 
place. Half-way, I switched to a jog. To tell the truth I never 
enjoyed jogging much, except when I was at a beach. There, the 
early morning or late afternoon jogs had always been nice. In the 
city, I didn't feel like jogging or running, even when I could 
find a park or a green spot. It just wasn't the same. However, I 
could spend hours walking from block to block, visiting shops; 
mostly the bookstores and electronics shops. When Kathy tagged 
along, she had trouble keeping up with my pace, especially when I 
was window-shopping for electronics. In many ways we were alike, 
except in our choices. She would spend hours in a department 
store and I would be in a bookstore, browsing through their 
selections, eventually ending up with an armload of books to take 
with me on my trips. Sometimes, when I had the patience, I would 
accompany her to department stores. However, I usually had a 
magazine or book to while away the time, as Kathy tried on 
clothes. She liked to read as well, whenever she had time from 
her studies or during her long shifts in the hospital, but her 
literary taste was mostly dictated by my choices. At the end of 
my vacation, she ended up with most of the books I'd bought. She 
didn't mind reading my choices in sci-fic, thriller, or horror 
genres. In fact, she developed a liking for Robert Ludlum, 
Stephen King, Wilbur Smith, Asimov, Clarke, and a few others.

It didn't take long to reach the playground. At this early hour 
it was deserted, although in an hour it would get crowded, when 
the parents and school buses brought the kids to the school a few 
hundred yards away. At lunch hour, this place would be bustling 
with kids, a few of the teachers keeping an eye on them. I 
decided to take advantage of the early hour, and do my Tai Chi 
practice. When I finished, I sat on one of the benches, enjoying 
the crisp morning air. As usual, I was feeling at peace after my 
exercise. It had been a while since my last practice--the last 
two weeks at the rig had been busy and I hadn't had the time--and 
now, I realized how much I missed and needed the exercise.

In the quiet solitude of the empty playground, I found my mind 
wandering; the fragments from early years drifting in and out, 
reminding me my study and practice of various martial arts, but 
especially Tai Chi. Slowly, my thoughts started to converge, 
following an ever narrowing spiral track, like the circular, 
fluid moves I had performed a short while ago...



 . . . .



Tai Chi was the first martial art I had learned, and the one that 
I enjoyed the most. From outside it almost looked like an exotic 
form of ballet. I guess that was one part I liked about it; the 
calm and peace I found in the deliberate, studied slowness of 
each move, each stance, and the eerie grace and the fluidity that 
were present as I went through the forms. This was the only 
martial art where I could feel the chi, the inner energy my 
sensei always talked about. I had never advanced to the higher 
levels with some of the martial arts I took up, but Tai Chi 
offered me more than the others. What's more, the experience with 
Tai Chi came in handy when I practiced the other martial arts. 
Although it looked like a ballet performed in a slow motion 
replay fashion, Tai Chi was a serious martial art and it could be 
put to use with astonishing results, when performed at high 
speed.

The next martial art my sensei taught me was Aikido. No surprises 
there. It was another defensive martial art. Although the two had 
very little in common, (in fact their origins were as far apart 
as they could be, one being Chinese and the other being 
Japanese), somehow, I made the transition to Aikido much easier 
and faster then I expected. Despite the differences in their 
origins and the forms, they complemented each other. I found 
myself using the circular, fluid motions of Tai Chi, in 
combination with the grips and locks of Aikido, changing from one 
form to the other instinctively.

Once, I had my sensei on the tatami mats during practice, the 
first time ever, and we had a short discussion about it. I was 
elated to be able to beat him, but was also curious whether that 
had been a fluke or a lucky break. He had explained that I had 
been _in the moment_ and in harmony with my opponent. He went 
further to explain that in combat or a fight, there was rarely 
any harmony to be found and the outcome was mostly determined by 
the skill levels and the readiness of the spirit, the mental 
attitude. I had the skills, but I had to learn about the timing 
and _being in the moment_; the spiritual and mental preparation.

Thus, began a new journey, one that was filled with frustration. 
On rare occasions, it filled me with dread and fright. He started 
me on Kenjutsu, the art of the sword. It was, for the most part, 
repetitive and boring; practicing the cuts with the bokken 
countless times, until my muscles memorized each move and they 
became second nature. Then, we started on the meditative forms, 
while my practices with the bokken concentrated on timing. I 
didn't enjoy Kenjutsu as much as Tai Chi or even Aikido. It took 
me a long while to make progress, although Tai Chi helped, to a 
degree, with the meditative forms and spiritual preparation. 
Later, we moved on to the opening stances, and katas, and how to 
move from one cut to the other, as I did with Tai Chi. But, I was 
far from being able to improvise as I had with Tai Chi and 
Aikido, mixing and matching moves, grips, and locks. I had, 
however, learned about timing, and was making progress in _being 
in the moment_.

I studied the spiritual preparation and mental attitude. I was 
still concerned about winning, as anybody would be in any kind of 
competitive sport, but Kenjutsu required a completely different 
set of mental attitudes. I knew (and learned) about clearing my 
mind, and controlling my emotions like anger, and even fear. But, 
Kenjutsu required me to delve deeper, where it led me to... the 
_Void_. A place where there was no emotion... no thought... just 
emptiness. It had been a scary experience, filling me with 
unease. It had felt alien, dark and foreboding.

Although my sensei felt my unease and reluctance, he urged me to 
explore it. We had long discussions about the Void, and about my 
reluctance. He managed to convince me that my notions of light 
and dark, good and evil were what kept me from exploring the 
darkness and the emptiness I had discovered in the Void. One day, 
instead of Kenjutsu practice, he asked me to perform my Tai Chi 
exercises. Once I completed my practice, he asked me to repeat 
them, but also to seek the Void during the exercise.

It was a different experience and a new discovery. He joined in, 
and we moved into combat Tai Chi, once again switching back and 
forth between styles, from Tai Chi to Aikido--the higher levels 
of Aikido that could be used to attack instead of defense only. 
And, I was in the Void, in that dark, swirling mess; no emotions, 
no thought, my senses awake as if I had a third eye that I could 
look at the world. At the end of the practice, he prepared tea, 
letting us wind down, and we discussed what I experienced.

"So, Mitchell, what did you think about today's exercise?"

"It was different. The emptiness... the darkness wasn't what I 
thought or felt it would be. I'm confused. Why did it seem 
foreboding when I tried it with Kenjutsu?"

"It was my mistake, Mitchell. I apologize. Kenjutsu is still a 
combat art, although its teachings are peaceful. They should be 
used to attain calm and peace. I had forgotten your upbringing. 
You are still, very much a Westerner in upbringing, and have 
different notions about life and death, good and evil, light and 
dark."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand, Sensei."

"Mitchell, when you take the sword in hand, the katana or the 
bokken, you are automatically associating it with life and death, 
even if it is for practice or for competition like Kendo. At the 
best, during competition, you are still concerned about winning 
or losing. You can control your fear, and empty your mind to some 
degree, but, you were never able to let go, and free yourself. 
You've learned about controlling your emotions, emptying your 
mind, but there is a deeper level... the Void. You never really 
reached that state in Kenjutsu, and that is why you had, you have 
difficulty."

"What about Tai Chi and what happened now?"

"Ahh. That is the crux of what I was trying to teach you. You 
have the answer yourself," he replied.

I pondered his cryptic words; what he said about Kenjutsu and how 
I felt about it compared to Tai Chi.

"Tai Chi is a solo martial art, and defensive, and I find it easy 
to attain calm and peace," I said.

"Precisely. You don't concern yourself about winning, and you 
don't associate it automatically with life and death. Even 
though, you know it can be used for combat, and very effectively 
so."

"So, I managed to sink in the Void, without preconceptions. The 
darkness in there is... part of the light... Yin and Yang?"

He nodded, then asked, "What did you find in the darkness, 
Mitchell?"

"Emptiness..."

When I didn't continue, he prompted, "And?"

"Purity and clarity," I replied, still contemplative, and trying 
to put into words my experience.

He raised an eyebrow, his black eyes urging me to continue.

"It was as if I was seeing the first time... if seeing is the 
right word?"

A small smile formed on his usually expressionless face. "Good. 
You've been a gifted student, Mitchell," he said, then paused to 
consider his next words. "I have to say, however, that you might 
not progress further. Does that bother you?"

"Why do you say that, Sensei?"

"You will not take Kenjutsu as a martial art, and continue to 
study it further, will you?"

I thought about my answer. I wanted to learn more, but I knew my 
heart wasn't in it, not as much as in Tai Chi. I was happy to 
keep learning more if I could, and practice what I had learned, 
but I didn't have the time to devote to further my studies.

"It would require more time than I could devote to it. I've 
started very late."

"Yes. That is so. I'm glad you recognize your limits. But, you'll 
keep at it, as time permits, and practice what you've learned?" 
he asked.

"Yes, Sensei."

"I have to warn you, Mitchell. That might prove to be extremely 
frustrating. You want to learn new things, and enjoy making 
progress, however little progress it might be. You have the 
patience for it, but Kenjutsu is an art that is difficult to 
master, requires a lot of time. I think you'll find that the 
little progresses become unsatisfactory after a while. You have a 
hunger for more. On the other hand, Tai Chi and Aikido will 
reward you well. I think you will find a lifetime of joy in 
them."

"Yes, Sensei. I understand. But, knowing all that, why did you 
start me in Kenjutsu?"

"It served its purpose. You had moved along faster than I 
expected. That day, when you beat me to the mat, mixing Tai Chi 
with Aikido, I realized I needed to introduce you to the Void. 
You needed to learn about timing and being in the moment. You had 
learned them partially, with Tai Chi and Aikido. You could center 
yourself, and feel the chi, but timing and being in the moment 
are basic and essential to Kenjutsu. More than that, the cut of 
the Katana requires a purity and clarity of spirit. You needed to 
learn about _no mind_, and the purity and clarity of spirit. I 
wasn't sure if I could teach you without Kenjutsu. And I wanted 
to see how far you'd progress in Kenjutsu."

"There is," I paused, "more than that..."

His dark eyes glittered for a moment at my comment, as if pleased 
at something.

"Yes, there is, Mitchell. You needed to be exposed to martial 
arts that have uses in combat, that are not purely defensive. 
Combat Tai Chi is a very effective martial art, as the later 
lessons you've learned in Aikido. But, they are, in essence, more 
suited for defense, rather than combat. You know you're good, but 
there are a lot of people who study martial arts. Somebody who is 
very much proficient in one of the martial arts, like Karate, 
could take you down. You needed an edge. You can hold your own 
against many, and with the Void, you have an edge, unless you 
encounter another who knows about the Void. Master of one Art is 
master of nothing. You remember that, don't you? I also know, 
you'll use your knowledge for self improvement. Otherwise I 
wouldn't have taught you, Mitchell."

I bowed, and said, "Thank you, Sensei."

He returned it with a short bow, and replied, "Thank you, 
Mitchell. It's been a rare privilege to teach you."

We drank our tea in silence for long minutes. Seeing me deep in 
thought, he said, "Mitchell, this is not _goodbye_. My door is 
open anytime. I know you want to continue your studies and I'll 
be glad to help. You still need to practice more to be 
comfortable with what you have learned today, and I would like to 
see you practice Kenjutsu at the level you can."

"Yes, Sensei. I wish to continue. Thank you for your kind offer."

"Mitchell, that's the least I can do. But always remember, and 
recognize your limits. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I thought about his question. I wasn't scared of what I had found 
in the Void, not anymore, but, I wasn't sure if I would seek it, 
even in Tai Chi. I knew I had to seek it in Kenjutsu, to make 
progress, but I had more trouble with Kenjutsu. When I explained 
my thoughts, Sensei nodded his agreement.

"Yes, Mitchell. I was expecting that, and that's why I had to 
warn you about frustration. You may not feel comfortable to seek 
the Void, even when practicing Tai Chi, but know that it's there, 
when you need it. Tell me Mitchell, is it because you think its 
purity and clarity is almost absolute that you're concerned 
you'll be corrupted by it?"

"Yes, Sensei. Or the temptation to use it might become 
irresistible."

"I understand, Mitchell. Remember that it's a mental technique, a 
discipline, like centering yourself, but it is beyond the other 
techniques. That is the only difference. You don't need to use it 
or continue practicing that, if you feel uncomfortable. As I 
said, it will give you an edge, when you need it. You know about 
timing, and you know how to be in the moment. Those are all you 
need. You should by now, know that your awareness is on a 
different level. You have come a long way, Mitchell. And, that 
makes me happy."

_I guess, I did... from that little scared and hurt boy to a 
confident and calm teenager._



 . . . .



I was nine years old, when I had seen him practicing the strange 
_thing_ in the ballpark. It was late afternoon, all the kids had 
left the school several hours ago, and I was still carrying the 
bruises of my last encounter with one of the school bullies. The 
physical hurt wasn't that bad. Once I got over the initial pain 
of a punch or two, they were reduced to an uncomfortable 
throbbing. And, the burning anger helped reduce the hurt to the 
point where I didn't feel much of the pain. I was sick and tired 
of feeling helpless, but as a nine year old, without many 
physical attributes, I didn't stand a chance against some of the 
more developed or older kids. After a few brawls, I wasn't even 
scared. I just wanted to pay back, for once, for the humiliation 
of losing the fights, not for the physical hurt.

Seeing this strange guy go through some complex sequence of moves 
with eerie slowness, I headed for one of the benches to watch 
what he was doing. I had no idea what it was he was doing, but 
after a while, just watching him, I forgot all my worries and 
hurt. I felt a calm that I hadn't felt for a long time. After he 
finished, he walked to me, and sat down on the same bench, and we 
talked. I was interested in knowing what he was doing, and he was 
concerned about how I looked. Once I learned what a martial art 
was and what he was practicing, my first question had been, if he 
knew Karate. When he replied he did, my second question had been 
if he would teach me, which he refused. However, he offered to 
teach me Tai Chi, what I had seen him practicing. When I didn't 
show an interest, he told me it would help more than Karate 
would. I couldn't see how Tai Chi would help, and he asked me 
what I had to lose by giving it a try. To make it more 
interesting, he suggested that after a year of Tai Chi practice, 
he would reconsider my request about Karate. He asked me if I 
understood what he was proposing. When I replied that he wasn't 
making a promise, but I might get a chance to learn Karate after 
a year, he smiled.

One year seemed so long, almost like an eternity--well, what nine 
year old wouldn't think one year was an eternity?--but in the 
end, there was the possibility of learning Karate. And, I didn't 
have anything to lose; it was going to take time. He wanted to 
take me home and talk with my parents, but I told him he could 
forget our deal. This was between him and me. In the end, he 
promised that he wouldn't talk about my problems with other kids. 
He would tell my parents that we had met in the ballpark, and I 
was interested in learning and he was interested in teaching me.

That was the beginning of a journey of self discovery. I put all 
my energy to learning Tai Chi, and at times Sensei had to slow me 
down, without curbing my enthusiasm. Initially, all I could think 
of was the next year. After the first three months, he lectured 
me about right and wrong attitudes, and warned me about my 
reasons for following the training. Of course, he knew I wanted 
to pay back the bullies that tormented me. When I didn't get what 
he was trying to tell me, he asked if I liked any animals. I 
always liked dogs as pets, although I had never had one as a pet. 
One day, he took me to a center where they kept stray dogs. I saw 
dogs being trained for later sale to families, and a few that 
actually got sold that day. Then he showed me some of the dogs 
that were aggressive, almost wild. He explained that those dogs 
were dangerous and un-trainable. When I asked what happened with 
them, he told me they were put to sleep.

I was young, but I understood the dogs were being killed. Then he 
took me to a room where they put the dogs to sleep. There was a 
wild dog struggling, trying to bite the guys holding it, while a 
doctor (veterinarian) was preparing a syringe for injecting the 
animal. Sensei asked me to touch the dog, and feel his heartbeat, 
after which he took me out of the room. A few minutes later we 
entered the room again and the dog was lying motionless on the 
table. When I touched the animal, I couldn't feel the heartbeat. 
That room left me uneasy.

When we were back at Sensei's house, he prepared tea, and we 
talked about what I had seen. He took his time to draw the 
parallels between the wild dogs, the bullies at school, and my 
anger, and what I could do. He explained how the other dogs that 
were sold (after being trained) made their owners and their kids 
happy. Finally, I began to understand what he was trying to tell 
me. He took me to a training room, and got me to expel all my 
frustration and anger on a punch bag. Once I was out of breath 
and tired, we took a break, while he explained the calm and peace 
I could find in Tai Chi. After that, he started doing the 
exercises, letting me watch, and I remembered the first day I had 
seen him practice, and the calm I had felt. When he finished, he 
asked me to join in, and that was a new experience, and a new 
start.

My studies took me several months, but the anger was still there 
at times, especially when I couldn't avoid an encounter with the 
bullies. My sensei was teaching me how Tai Chi could be used for 
defense, and one day, during an encounter with one of the 
bullies, I used my newly acquired knowledge, effectively. Once I 
had him on the ground, my anger took over, and I kicked him; my 
humiliation of all the brawls and teasing I had endured taking 
over me, and finding an outlet. After that point, I wasn't using 
my knowledge, but was yelling, and shouting and threatening him, 
while I sat on his chest and kept on punching him. He was trying 
to protect himself from my wild attack. When I expelled all my 
anger, I stood up, while he laid there cowering. Luckily I didn't 
hurt him badly, but I realized I had been like a rabid dog, 
viciously attacking. I remembered my visit to the dog center, and 
what Sensei and I had talked about after that visit. I needed to 
see and tell him about what I had done. I dreaded telling him 
about the incident, but I didn't know who else I could talk to 
about what I had done.

One look at me and he knew what I had done. His eyes darkened, as 
he gave me a sad look. He prepared tea, and I told him about the 
incident.

"Why did you tell me what you did, Mitchell?"

"I don't know who else I can talk to. I need help. I don't want 
to be a rabid dog."

"So you remember your visit to the dog center?"

I nodded.

"Did you enjoy hurting him?"

"I don't know... I think I did. I was angry. He hurt me many 
times."

"So you think he deserved it?"

"I-I... Didn't he? He hurt me many times before today."

"Yes, he did hurt you. Tell me. If he tries to hurt you again, 
what will you do?"

"I don't think he'll try again."

"Probably. But let's assume he came after you... what will you 
do?"

"I will fight, but... I don't want to hurt him... Like I did 
today."

"Why is that, Mitchell? He still wants to hurt you."

"He may want to, but he can't. Not anymore. I won't allow that."

"You don't want revenge? You don't want to punish him?"

"It's not right. He was bigger than me and he beat me. I didn't 
like being hurt. Today I beat him, and I know he didn't like it. 
I'm not him. I didn't want the fight. He's like a rabid dog, but 
I don't want to be a rabid dog. Today, I became a rabid dog."

"Yes, you did. For a while. Let's get back to him; he's a rabid 
dog. Don't you want him put to sleep?"

"He's not a dog. He's a kid."

"Assume he's an animal, Mitchell. Just a rabid dog. Wouldn't you 
put the rabid dog to sleep?"

"I rather have the dog in a cage, where he can't hurt anybody. I 
didn't like what they did in the center."

He was quiet for a long time, and kept his gaze locked on me, as 
he seemed to mull something in his mind. Then he resumed his 
questions.

"Let's assume you're on the street, and there is a rabid dog. You 
have a stick. The dog chases you. What would you do?"

I thought about his question, given the new scenario, wondering 
about what I could do in such a situation.

"I don't know, Sensei."

"You don't know?"

"I can run away, or use the stick to keep him away."

"Yes. Interesting choices, aren't they?"

"Which one is the right choice, Sensei?"

"Sometimes, there are no right answers. Can you see that, 
Mitchell?"

"I'm not sure I understand, Sensei. How can there be no right 
answers?"

"Think about your options, Mitchell. Think about why you would 
choose one over the other."

"If I run away, and the dog can't catch me, I'm not in danger. If 
I can't run away, I have to use the stick. That's what I did with 
him most of the time, if I could; run away. When he caught me, he 
used to beat me. Now, I could face him, if I have to."

"Yes, Mitchell. There is one point you have to remember. Even 
when you use the stick, you could still get hurt, while trying to 
keep the dog away. In any confrontation that is a possibility. 
Avoiding confrontation is better. Most of the time. There are 
times, however, when confrontation is inevitable. Even then, one 
must do anything in his power to avoid confrontation. But, once 
you are into a confrontation, then you do what you can and need 
to do to survive. That is a survival trait each of us carry with 
us. Martial arts give you tools. They teach you how to survive, 
and a discipline to use those tools. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sensei."

"Good. The arts also teach how to avoid confrontation. We haven't 
touched them yet, but we will. It helps you to deal with 
confrontation, and combat. Mitchell, this is very important. You 
have learned some skills. When you used them, you had beaten a 
kid that was bigger and older than you. They gave you an 
advantage over his size and age. But, there's a responsibility 
that comes with this knowledge. You cannot use the tools 
indiscriminately. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sensei. It is like.. when he used his age and size to beat 
me. He used it for no reason at all."

"Very good, Mitchell. And you understand that's what made him a 
rabid dog, and what will make you a rabid dog! Without the 
discipline, it's easy to use those tools indiscriminately. There 
will be times, the temptation will be very strong. Do you 
understand temptation, Mitchell?"

"I'm not sure, Sensei."

"Let's say you're in a candy store. The owner is at the back, and 
there's nobody around. You see your favorite candy in the jar. 
You want the candy, but you don't have money. Since there's 
nobody around, you can take the candy and leave the store. Nobody 
will know it. Would you?"

"But that's stealing. It's wrong."

"Yes, it is. But you want the candy, Mitchell. It's your favorite 
candy, and you want it. Nobody will know if you take a few 
pieces."

"Yes, but... it's still wrong."

"Yes, it is, Mitchell. Wanting that candy is not wrong, but 
acting on that want, and stealing is wrong. That want will tempt 
you to steal it."

"Yes, I understand, Sensei."

"Mitchell, we are talking about stealing candy that you want, but 
there are many things in life that you will want. As you grow up, 
your wants will be different. There will be many different 
temptations. One of them will be the temptation to fight somebody 
you dislike or somebody that is trying to hurt you. The more 
skills you learn, the better you'll be able to beat your 
opponent, so you might be tempted to beat a person to settle an 
argument, rather than find another solution. Want, jealousy, 
anger, fear, and many other feelings will confuse you, cloud your 
judgment, and lead you into temptation. You might want to have 
your own way, take what you want, overcome obstacles in your way, 
using these tools, especially if you don't think about right or 
wrong. Sometimes, things are not as simple as in the candy 
example--you knew stealing is wrong. And, there will be times, 
you might be confused about what is right or wrong, or have no 
clear answers to those questions. Do you understand?

"Yes. Sensei, I know stealing is wrong, but how do I deal with 
other situations? You tell me I will be confused by many things."

"Martial arts will teach you discipline, and will give you the 
tools to make you think clearly, to overcome the confusion. You 
enjoy doing your Tai Chi exercises, don't you? You feel calm and 
at peace when you're doing your exercises and you enjoy that 
feeling. In time you will learn to control your anger and other 
feelings, so that you don't get confused. It will take time and 
practice, but you already know that by now. Tell me, Mitchell. Do 
you still want to learn Karate?"

"I wanted to learn Karate, because I thought I could use it to 
beat him," I confessed, feeling apprehensive, but he nodded me to 
continue. "But I already beat him with Tai Chi. I don't know if I 
need to learn Karate. I know I enjoy Tai Chi, _very much_."

"I know that you started to enjoy Tai Chi, as I hoped you would. 
Do you want to continue Tai Chi, because you've seen what it can 
do?"

"Yes... but... I want to learn what you told me about. I don't 
want to be a rabid dog. I think, when the time comes, I can learn 
Karate the way I'm learning about Tai Chi."

"Yes, Mitchell. There are many forms of martial arts. We will 
examine them in time. I want you to remember this conversation 
and what you learned from today's incident. That will help along 
the way to deal with temptation, and help you understand the 
essence of martial arts and its teachings. Remember that there 
are right ways and wrong ways of doing things. Remember also you 
have options. Look for them, and you'll find them. In time, 
you'll come to see options, possibilities where there were none 
before. Martial arts are a lifelong study and a continuous 
learning experience, Mitchell. Never forget that."



* * * * *



As I was walking back home, my mind was still busy with the past, 
memories of Sensei and my studies. It had been quite a few years 
since I had thought about Sensei. I had kept up with Kenjutsu for 
some time under Sensei's tutelage, but eventually, decided to 
stop. I had experimented with the Void, but had been reluctant to 
seek it, even when practicing Tai Chi. I had known all along my 
heart hadn't been in Kenjutsu. My sensei had been right to warn 
me.

Thinking back over the last several years, I could also see I had 
thrown aside some of the teachings. I should have realized long 
ago that I was too lost in my heart-breaking love for her. The 
emptiness she left had scared me, because it had seemed too much 
like the emptiness in the Void. They were very different but, 
lost in my pain and hurt, I had been confused, and had turned my 
back on most of my training. Almost to the point of rejecting 
some of the teachings.

I wasn't sure, yet, but I suspected now that I had perhaps blamed 
my failure on my training, and blamed myself for being a complete 
failure, when the training didn't help me deal with my lost love. 
The anger I had directed at myself, the anger I had used to fill-
up the emptiness inside (which was still there) may have had 
sprung from disappointment with my failed attempts to cope with 
the emptiness, and resentment at my training when I had not been 
able to find any answers. But, failure was always a possibility. 
Martial arts don't give you all the answers. Sometimes there are 
no answers.

I should have known better. I needed to look into these questions 
and find the answers. Yet, for some reason, I dreaded seeking the 
answers. Was it because I was scared to find out how far from the 
path I had fallen? I shook my head to clear the dark thoughts. 
But of course, that didn't help. I decided to take my time and 
attack the questions with patience. This could not be rushed. 
Once I had some answers, perhaps I would be able to deal with 
her, Dana, my family and my friends. A year ago, unknowingly, 
Pops had given me a partial key, but I had not been able to use 
what he had given me to full effect. Now, Dana had helped with 
her love. She didn't know it, even I hadn't known it at the time, 
but her love had been a catalyst. I could see that, now. My 
subconscious had probably recognized it before I had. Perhaps, 
that's why I had felt such a bond with Dana. Were my feelings for 
her based on gratitude or was it love?

I thought about my feelings, and every time I came up with the 
same answer. I loved her. There was no question about it. There 
was gratitude, but my love for Dana was beyond that gratitude. 
Was I in love with her? I couldn't say. I needed more time to dig 
into that question and understand my feelings. I probably had to 
complete my own personal journey first, before I could commit 
myself to anybody. Whenever I did commit, I wanted to give my 
very best, but I wasn't at my best yet. Now, I could see that. It 
had been at the back of my mind, but now, it was obvious. Was 
this another reason why I had not wanted to be around people who 
loved me, family and friends? Perhaps.

I needed to know how far I had strayed from my path, my course, 
before I could complete my journey. What's more, I had to find 
out what journey I was going to take and if it was the right 
journey, for the right reasons. It looked like a very complex, 
almost an insurmountable task and for a moment I panicked, before 
forcefully reminding myself, every journey started with a simple, 
single step, and built upon similar steps along the way. Hadn't I 
started with Tai Chi in the same way, without knowing what I was 
getting myself into, except wanting to get the chance to learn 
something else, and for all the wrong reasons?



* * * * *


(continued in next part, 4/5)
<3rd attachment end>


<4th attachment, "tfauc-pt-03.txt" begin>






Title: Tales from an Unknown Corner
Chapters: 12-16 (of 20)
Author: Dai_wakizashi
Universe: Tfauc
Summary:  Journey of a troubled young man looking for a path and 
people around him, who, at times, give shape to his journey.
Codes: MF, FF, MFF, oral, anal, toys, petting, romance, drama
Status: in progress
Revision: 2.0

Web Sites:
  ASSTR-  http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/dai_wakizashi/www/
  SOL-        http://storiesonline.net/home.php
  EWP-       http://www.ewpub.org/ewpub.html

Discussion Forum:
   http://www.ewpub.org/messageboard/viewforum.php?f=76

*****************************************************************

STANDARD DISCLAIMER

This piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment. It 
contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are 
offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT 
read any further.

All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to any 
persons, places, individuals or situations is purely coincidental. 
The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the 
activities described in this story.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without 
the written permission of the author, Dai_wakizashi 
(dai_wakizashiAThotmailDOTcom).

This story may be freely distributed with this disclaimer 
attached.

Copyright (c) 2003-2004 Dai_wakizashi. All rights reserved.

*****************************************************************



              TALES FROM AN UNKNOWN CORNER  [Tfauc]



CHAPTER - 12: Sisters Know Best!



Back at Kathy's place, I put the coffee on and hit the shower. 
Dressing up, I went to the kitchen and found Kathy, dressed in 
her peignoir, with a cup of coffee. From the looks of her 
disheveled chestnut hair, I realized she must have gotten out of 
bed a short while ago. Filling a cup for myself, I joined her in 
the living room.

"Morning, Sis."

With still sleepy eyes, she regarded me, before responding with a 
soft voice. "Morning. You were out?"

"Yeah. Jogging. Say, how important is the breakfast with Mom and 
Dad, this morning?"

"Your car is there, so I thought we would have breakfast with 
them, before you picked up your car."

"Do they know what you were planning?"

"Nope. We need to be there early this afternoon for tea, and for 
dinner. That was the original plan. What's up, Mitch?"

"Nothing, Kathy. Slight change of plans. Let's have breakfast 
here. The car can wait."

She perked up at the change of plans, but instead of coming up 
with questions, she decided to see what I was planning. I could 
tell she was excited, but trying to keep it under control. Giving 
her a kiss, I took her cup, which was still half full, and said, 
"Get your cute butt in the shower. In the meantime, I'll get the 
breakfast ready. Time's a wastin'."

While her mouth was hanging open at the sudden turn of events, I 
walked to the little kitchen and started rummaging in the fridge 
to see what she had. Seeing she was still sitting there, I said, 
"Come on, Kathy. I know you like your eggs warm. Get movin'."

Without a word, she left the living room, while I got busy 
setting the table and preparing the breakfast. I started a fresh 
batch of coffee, while waiting for the toast, then started on 
bacon and eggs. By the time she was back from her shower, dressed 
in jeans and a sweater, I was putting the bacon, eggs and toast 
on the plates. Like me, she had an appetite, and enjoyed a good 
breakfast. Sometimes, she had to be careful, as she had a 
tendency to put on a few pounds, especially when her studies took 
so much time that she didn't exercise. But, she didn't shy away 
from eating like some girls I had known. After we finished, I 
collected the plates and placed them in the sink. Filling up our 
cups, I picked up an ashtray and settled in the chair, lighting a 
cigarette. I could see she was getting impatient.

"You're wondering what's up?" I stated the obvious.

"That's an interesting way to put it. What's with all the cloak 
and dagger, Bro?"

Despite her words, and cool exterior, her brown eyes were alight 
with curiosity, barely hiding her excitement. I smiled inwardly, 
watching her trying to keep her excitement under control. I 
couldn't help but wonder how formidable an adversary she would 
make if she had learned how to control her emotions. Still, she 
was more than I could handle at times. From a very early age, she 
had been a precocious child; her sharp mind surprising me at the 
most inopportune moments. As I thought about that, I was startled 
by another discovery. She hardly hid her emotions, but especially 
her love and affection towards the people she loved, and that 
included me. Even when we were engaged in a battle of wits, she 
didn't try too hard to hide her love. On the other hand, I would 
try to keep a poker face, not to give away what I was up to; 
sometimes resorting to the use of any and all tools in my 
arsenal. After the training I had embarked upon so long ago, 
controlling my emotions had become something of a second nature. 
Still, she managed to break through my cool exterior, quite 
often, and I had let her, especially when the battle was about 
trivial issues. But, over the last several years, I had erected 
better defenses when she tried to probe me about my life and the 
past; I just wasn't ready to talk about certain subjects.

With those thoughts, I decided to make an effort to be more open 
with her in the coming discussion. At least, it didn't involve 
anything related to that summer, and I relaxed more. With a 
reassuring smile, I said, "No cloak and dagger, Kathy. If you 
don't mind, I have some questions. I would appreciate if you keep 
this talk between us."

Ignoring my words, she asked, "What's on your mind, Mitch?"

"I'm curious about something we've not talked about much."

"Like what?"

"My training. You haven't said much about it through the years, 
but at times... I had the feeling you didn't like what I was 
practicing."

She thought about her answer for quite some time. I guess the 
subject must have come as a surprise, after so long. She also 
knew I had been and still was serious about my martial arts 
training.

"Why do you ask that, Mitch?"

"We know each other well. At least, we knew each other well when 
we were young. I'm curious about why you've felt the way you did, 
you do. Am I wrong in saying you didn't like my training very 
much?"

"I never understood why you sought the training, why you felt the 
need."

"I didn't seek it. Initially, I came upon it by chance at a time 
when it looked useful. I found it helped. Later, I continued 
because I enjoyed it, and learned a lot."

"You mean the bullies at school, when you were young?"

"You knew about them?" I asked, unable to hide my surprise at her 
question.

She nodded.

"What did you know?"

"Sometimes, one of them would catch you out of the school and 
tease you, then beat you up. I know you evaded them most of the 
time, but sometimes you were beaten. Then you met that Japanese 
guy and started to train with him. I didn't know what you were 
doing, but I could see you were calmer, and not as scared. You 
were beaten a few more times until, one day, you paid one of the 
bullies back."

_Sheesh! She had never said a word._

"You knew all that, but you didn't say anything."

"I knew you felt humiliated. You would spend some time before 
coming home, so I knew you didn't want to talk. We were close, 
but this was your private war. You were stubborn and proud. I 
didn't want to lose you because of your pride. I got the feeling 
you didn't want any interference. I didn't want you to worry 
about who knew about it, like Dad, Mom or me. You had enough on 
your plate, without me or anybody piling more on top of it. You 
wanted to keep it a secret, so it stayed a secret."

"I'm sorry, Sis. It must have been hard on you."

"It wasn't as tough as trying to keep Mom and Dad from 
discovering what was going on."

"Jeeez! Sis! Why would you do that?"

"Several reasons. I was scared of losing you. I didn't want you 
to blame me for telling on you. I was also scared that you 
wouldn't be allowed to play outside. I knew you liked to do that, 
and I liked playing outside with you. You know how overprotective 
Mom was. She still is; that hasn't changed," she said with a 
strained smile.

With a laugh, I nodded. "Understatement of the year, Sis. What 
else?"

"I had seen how some of the other kids got it worse, when they 
complained about the bullies. I didn't want things to get worse 
than they were for you. If Mom got involved, she would have 
raised hell, but I didn't know if it would have solved the 
problems. It might have just made things worse, as it did for 
some of the kids. You had it easier than some others," she said, 
her eyes moist.

"Kathy, it's OK! You did the right thing. You know it was the 
right thing. Come on. We're adults now, and we know how nasty 
kids can get. You should know that."

"That doesn't make it any easier. Even after so many years."

"It's all right, Kathy. It's over. I survived. As you said, I was 
lucky."

She nodded, trying to compose herself. When she calmed down, I 
asked, "What did you know of the pay back?"

"I was really surprised when I heard about it. I couldn't believe 
you had beaten him. But, when I saw that nobody bothered you 
again, I realized it was true, after all. I was so happy; I 
wanted to jump up and down in joy. That prick got what was coming 
to him."

"And you knew that what I had learned helped?"

"Yes. But, I expected you to stop. I didn't see any reason why 
you would continue. I was also scared that you would turn into 
one of those pricks, with what you were learning."

"Why? I never sought a fight with anybody."

"I know. You were calm and controlled, but you were starting to 
change. You were reserved, and distant. You didn't make friends 
easily. You had friends, but unlike other kids, you weren't 
friends with many kids. You also started to spend more time with 
your instructor, practicing, instead of playing with other kids."

"But I spent time playing with you, or with Mom in the kitchen, 
cooking, talking."

"I know, but I didn't understand why you devoted so much time to 
your training, instead of playing with other kids, doing fun 
things."

"Did you ever think about how much I enjoyed practicing?"

"I could see that, especially with Tai Chi. You still practice 
that?"

"Yes, I do."

"A few years later, when you moved on to other training, with the 
swords--I don't know what it's called--you didn't enjoy it that 
much?"

"Kenjutsu. No, initially I didn't enjoy it. Later, I got 
something out of it, but my heart wasn't in it."

"Why did you continue, Mitch? With something you didn't enjoy?"

"It was necessary. I needed to learn about something. It served 
its purpose. But I get the feeling, you didn't like to see me 
practicing Kenjutsu. Is that right? Why were you concerned? What 
bothered you about my Kenjutsu training?"

"Initially I didn't think much about it. But when I came back--
after the first year in boarding school--and saw you practice, I 
didn't like it."

"What do you mean, Kathy?"

"I had seen you practice Tai Chi. There's a beauty, a grace in 
it. Have you ever seen yourself practice? If you have, then you 
know what I'm talking about it."

I smiled at her comment. "Kathy, I know there is beauty and grace 
in it. I've watched my sensei when he practiced, and I feel it 
when I practice. But, there's more to it than what you see from 
outside. You should realize that by now."

"Yes. I believe so. But there was none of it in your sword 
practice. Well, not always. When you did that special meditation, 
and practiced... it was... scary."

"The sword practice, with the special meditation... was scary?"

"Yes. When I asked, you explained that you were doing a special 
meditation, sinking into the depth... I didn't like that. It 
scared me."

"The Void," I corrected her. "What was the difference? What 
didn't you like, Kathy? Can you explain?"

She went quiet, thinking, trying to put what had bothered her 
into words.

"When you were practicing, it was smooth, but there were also 
flaws. I don't know much about how it should be, but I could see 
there were issues, as if something was out of place or slightly 
out of alignment. It's difficult to explain. I could see things 
that weren't as graceful as your Tai Chi performances, as if you 
were faltering. Does that make sense?"

"Sure. It was imperfect. I wasn't very good with Kenjutsu, 
although I made progress, and reached a level that I was 
comfortable with, and my sensei said as much. So?"

"That was when you were doing your normal practice. When you did 
your special meditation and started the practice... it was 
perfect, and it was scary. I was watching the same guy, but it 
wasn't the same guy. It was as if... as if there was another 
person that looked like you had taken your place. There was an 
intensity that wasn't there before. That wooden sword was like a 
big fan, sweeping the air in a blur, seeking, ready to destroy 
whatever dared to cross its path."

She finished her description, very much agitated, her last words 
almost whispered, leaving me speechless by the strength of her 
emotions. I could feel and taste her fright like a physical 
thing. I was going to respond making light of her description, 
but one look at her face was enough to convince me that would be 
a mistake. Her hands were curled in a fist, the knuckles white.

"Kathy. Please, calm down. It was just practice. An advanced form 
of exercise. Nothing more," I said softly.

"I remember you describing it as a place where no emotion or 
thought resided. Do you have any idea how that sounds?"

"I think I have an idea, Kathy. But you have to admit, you have 
no experience to compare with or judge what it is. You're using 
conventions, things you know, to make comparisons and pass 
judgment on something that doesn't fit into anything you've known 
before, or fit to any criteria that will make sense to you. 
There's nothing in your experience that will allow you to 
understand or measure what you're dealing with. It's like trying 
to describe colors to a person who was born blind, and even that 
analogy falls short of describing the situation."

She was quiet, trying to understand what I said, but the 
conventions she had known didn't allow her wrap her mind around 
it. Well, I had experimented with it, and experienced it, and put 
it aside for so many years, because... because I hadn't been sure 
how I could use it. I knew if I tried I could sink in the Void, 
and that knowledge was enough. I tried to explain again.

"Kathy, you've seen me do exercises to attain calm. That place is 
beyond that level of control. For what it's worth, I haven't 
practiced it much and put it aside some years ago."

"Why is that, Mitchell?" she asked.

She was sharp and once again her aim was true, scoring a perfect 
bull's eye.

"I guess I'm as bound and limited by conventions as you are. 
Because of my other training, I was willing to investigate it. To 
tell the truth, I was scared the first time I tried to sink in 
the Void, because I didn't understand it. The next time, I 
understood what it was and wasn't scared of it, but... well... I 
didn't see any reason to practice it more. However, it has its 
uses. I know that. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell 
you?"

"No, Mitch, I don't. I'm scared. You picked up your sword 
yesterday... and are taking it with you. Are you going to 
practice that thing again?"

Her voice was thick with emotion, and I was racking my mind to 
find a way to explain and comfort her.

"Sis, you work in Emergency and see people come in with all sorts 
of things. They are scared, because they don't know what's wrong 
with them, or they think the worst. Right?"

She nodded. She was hanging on every word, her attention focused 
on what I was trying to tell her.

"But you know more than they do. Most of the time, you know 
what's wrong with them and how it can be fixed, right?"

She nodded again.

"They might be scared, but are you?"

She shook her head no.

"Exactly. They trust you to fix their problem, because you have 
the skills, the knowledge, and experience. What's more, with 
every passing day, your skill level is increasing with your 
knowledge and understanding. In short, you're improving."

She was quiet for a while, mulling what we talked in her mind.

"OK, Mitch. I understand what you're saying. Because I don't know 
and don't understand what it is you're dealing with, I'm scared. 
How do you know what you're dealing with?"

"Ahh, Sis. You're missing one crucial thing. You have your basic 
knowledge, and on top of all that, expertise on several subjects, 
and you keep on learning. What about me? My training was the 
same. And like you, there are times when I'm not sure about 
something, so I proceed with caution, but unlike you, I'm not 
putting anybody at risk when I make a mistake. I don't even put 
myself at risk. Come on, Sis. You know me. The Control Freak!" I 
said with a smile.

That quip finally earned me a small laugh, but she was still 
apprehensive. When I looked askance, she shook her head.

I insisted. "Come on, Kathy. You were the one who wanted to talk. 
We are talking. Are you going to quit on me, now?"

"You don't want to talk about... that," she replied, pointedly.

"This is about what you said yesterday? Me, shutting people out?"

She nodded.

"And you're thinking this is a result of my training? Especially 
that particular thing I learned?"

She nodded again.

"Kathy, I'm not ready to talk about some things, yet, but I can 
tell you this much: my training, especially the Void, has got 
nothing to do with it. I quit practicing it a long time before 
that... summer. That training has its uses, but shutting people 
out isn't one of them. You have to take my word for it. I think 
you know me well enough to know that I'm telling you the truth."

She nodded, then asked, "May I ask one question?"

"Only one?" I teased.

"Yes, Mitch. And I hope you can answer it," she said with a 
reasonable tone, urging me to give it a serious consideration.

"No promises, but I'll give it my best effort," I replied in the 
same reasonable tone.

I took a drag from my cigarette, waiting for her question. 
Nothing could have prepared me for what was coming next--training 
or no training. It wasn't a bombshell. It was the fucking A-Bomb! 
My clever sister was either very lucky, or she must have studied 
strategy better than I had.

"Does Dana know about your past?" she asked with dead calm. For 
all purposes, she could have been asking about the weather: 
"Isn't it hot, today?"

I must say my reaction wasn't elegant. The cigarette smoke got 
caught at the back of my throat, irritating it something 
terrible, and I had a coughing fit. When I managed to gather a 
semblance of control, I took a sip from my coffee, trying to 
sooth my burning throat. In the meantime, my sister was trying to 
hide her laughter (and not very hard, I must add).

_You, little witch! I'll get you for this!_

For God's sake, the shit she had pulled was incredible. No 
warning at all, and then... Slam dunk!

Before I could say a word, she came back, adding insult to 
injury. "If this is your best effort, Mitch, I better take a rain 
check."

"You witch! You just earned a payback. I'll get you for this."

"It was worth it. Thank you for your elegant answer."

"Kathy, that was below the belt. What did you do? Spend the whole 
night planning how to ask this question?" I retorted with an 
irritated tone.

"Come on, Mitch. You were closed up for a long time. Suddenly, 
you're relaxed, almost happy. It turns out you've met a new girl 
who happens to be a flight attendant. You're not walking around 
with a chip on your shoulder. Then, we sit and talk about 
something we never talked about. What pisses me off is that, 
you've talked about your past with some new girl, instead of 
talking with me."

"Hold it there! Not one more word. This talk is over!" I said, 
sternly, before standing up.

I wasn't really angry, but I was scared where the talk would 
lead. When Kathy started on the subject of why I would talk with 
Dana about my past (there had been no precedent), she could have 
easily stumbled upon what exactly happened during the flight.

_Unless, she has it worked out already... she had the whole night 
to think about it._

That thought filled me with dread. I made my way to my room to 
pick up my jacket. I wanted to be alone. I didn't want to keep 
fending off Kathy.

_Shit! Everything was going so nice. Why did you do that, Kathy?_

I sat on the bed, examining my feelings. I hadn't been angry 
about what she did. I was shocked, but now, I resented it. Mostly 
because she was going in a direction that would open a whole can 
of worms, and I wasn't ready for it, yet, if ever.

"Mitch, I'm sorry."

I looked up and saw her standing by the door, her arms crossed, 
with a sad and scared expression on her face. When I didn't 
respond, she said, "Mitch, I'm sorry. Please, don't do this. I 
didn't know what I was doing."

"Really? You didn't know what you were doing? From where I stood, 
it didn't look like that at all," I replied, unable to keep the 
resentment from coloring my voice.

"I'm sorry, Mitch. We were just having fun, and it was too good 
an opportunity to pass up. I didn't expect--" she replied with a 
small voice, before I cut her off.

"Not one more word, Kathy. You're on probation. I mean it."

At that her face fell, her eyes getting moist. She tried one more 
time. "I'm truly sorry, Mitchell. I'll promise anything you want. 
Just don't do this. Please? You know I keep my promises."

_She would never give a promise, unless... Oh, no! Come on, 
Kathy. I love you. I'm not going to shut you out, but..._

I tried to calm myself. Then, with a tired sigh I said, "Kathy, I 
love you. I want to make you happy, but... you really don't know 
when to stop. I'm at fault as much as you are. Please, tread a 
bit more carefully. I don't want promises, but don't take that as 
carte-blanche, OK? That's not the Kathy I know. I want back that 
clever, scheming she-devil who drives me crazy; my Kathy."

At that, she rushed at me and I was flattened on the bed, with 
her straddling me and painting my cheeks with kisses. Then she 
sat up, still straddling me and gave me an embarrassed and guilty 
look.

_What, now?_

"Out with it. Since I seem to be in a forgiving mood, out with 
it," I said.

"I have a confession to make, but promise you'll not hit the 
roof."

"Kathy, you're in no position, and you know that. I said I'm in a 
forgiving mood."

"I hope you'll not get angry with me when you hear this. It's 
about this Saturday."

"Go on."

"It's about, Sarah."

_Oh, brother! I hope it's not what I think it is._

"Tell me you didn't cook something with Sarah?"

She nodded apprehensively.

"God, Kathy! And how long were you going to keep it a secret?--
Never mind that--What did you cook up this time?"

"Well... she doesn't have a boyfriend... _anymore_. She had one, 
but she broke up." She waited to see how I would react.

"_Very cute_, Kathy. She had a boyfriend, but not anymore. You 
think you can explain away what you said about Sarah, with this 
little detail?" I asked, amused at her antics.

"I learned _it_ from you."

"Kathy!" I warned her, reminding her of her current situation, 
but she wasn't going to heed it.

"What!!! It's the truth, and we both know it. You're a master at 
it," she retorted.

"OK. I'm not going to get into a discussion on this now. Go on. 
What else you've got planned?"

"Well... She's interested in you."

"You're joking, right? This isn't more babe and bombshell stuff?"

"I'm serious, Mitch. She came out with it. She had been asking 
about you now and then. I didn't realize she had an interest in 
you. I mean, you said it yourself; it's been five or six years 
since she saw you, so I never gave a thought."

"But, when she expressed her interest, you turned her down, 
_right_?" I asked her in a sarcastic tone. We both knew what the 
score was on that point.

"In fact, I _did_."

Seeing my skeptic look, she elaborated. "Sorry, Bro, but you 
haven't been much fun lately, and she's my best friend. I love 
you, but since you weren't shopping for girlfriends, I thought it 
was the right thing to do."

"Yes, it was. So you _did_ everything you could?"

She gave me a pained look. "She insisted, and finally got me to 
tell her a bit about you. I didn't tell her much, but--you know, 
some generalizations: how you kept busy with your work and had 
little time for romance."

Seeing the disbelief on my face, she hurriedly added, "I swear, 
Mitch. I didn't tell her anything. I had to say something. She's 
my best friend, but you're my brother."

"Not even a little mention of a broken heart, maybe?"

"I didn't say anything, although..."

"Although what, Kathy?"

"I kinda mentioned you had something going on a few years back, 
but that hadn't worked out, and since then you had been too busy 
with your work."

"_Real nice job_, Kathy," I said, sarcastically.

"I thought so myself," Kathy retorted, unabashed.

Seeing the irritated look on my face, she got defensive. "I 
didn't say anything, Mitch. She might draw some conclusions, but 
I didn't say anything. I needed to warn her a bit. Be honest, and 
tell me if I did anything wrong?"

"No... you did not. But... I don't want you to make a habit of 
it. I told you before; I'm not shopping for girlfriends."

"No, you're not. Not _anymore_."

"You're _incorrigible_. Why am I putting up with you?"

"Because... I'm your _sister_... and, you love me to _death_?"

"Maybe I should forget about the love part and go straight to 
death," I quipped.

"You don't mean _that_!"

"No, I don't. But sometimes... You know what I mean... So, is 
there more to this story?" I asked, directing us back to the 
subject.

"Well, after that little talk about you, she came out and asked 
if I would mind if she took a shot at you. That's when I realized 
she was serious about it. I asked why she wanted to pursue you, 
and she told me she remembered you as a pleasant, quiet kid; a 
bit shy perhaps, but a nice kid. You've both known each other for 
a long time and she liked you then. She wants to see if there's 
something. Compared to her current crop of boyfriends, she thinks 
you might be different."

"You know, this is going to be a real pain in the neck. At least, 
with those sharks, I can ignore them. Sarah is... well, Sarah is 
different. She's your best friend, and I've known her a long 
time. For God's sake, Kathy... the things you get me into 
sometimes..."

"I'm sorry, Mitch, but whether I talked with her or not, she was 
probably going to find a way to get to see you."

"Yeah... It seems she had something in her mind for a while."

She had an amused look on her face and was trying hard not to 
laugh.

"What's so _funny_?"

"Well, Bro. You seem to have a streak of luck lately. After a 
long drought, you have girls raining all over you."

I grimaced at the thought. I had enough complications in my life.

Seeing my look, she said, "Oh, _come on_, Mitch; _be happy_! You 
need some happiness. Don't tell me, you're still hung up on..."

Her voice faded, as she noticed how I tensed up.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry," she said, with an apologetic 
tone.

Getting off me, she allowed me to stand up. Changing the subject 
swiftly, she asked, "So what's the plan, Bro? Do we go and get 
your car?"

"Yeah. We better do that. I don't want to be late for the 
afternoon."

She moved in and hugged me, while softly whispering, "Thank you. 
Seeing you happy, I keep forgetting... things. I love you and 
I'll be more careful."

I hugged her back, rocking her, kissing the top of her head. It 
had been a long time since we'd been this close.

"Do you think Mom suspects anything?" I asked.

"Well, she's sharp, but she won't grill you. Not after last 
year."

"What do you mean?"

"She was scared of losing you. After that big argument, she 
realized she was running the risk of pushing you away. You know, 
Dad never got involved in things like that, and always kept 
quiet. A year ago that changed. He was also worried, but when Mom 
heard the latest escalation, she was close to panic, and he had 
to do something. However it was mostly because of Mom, to calm 
her down."

"He had to-- what do you mean?"

"Dad knew if they kept putting pressure on you, they might lose 
you. You know how Dad is. He keeps his thoughts to himself, and 
doesn't talk much, unless it becomes necessary. Last year it was 
bad. He believed you'd take care of yourself, even though he was 
worried. But, when they heard the news of the _attack_, for the 
first time he looked scared; really scared that something might 
happen to you. When Mom panicked, he knew he had to do something. 
That's why he was hard on you. When you gave them the cold 
shoulder, especially to Mom, he backed away, and tried to talk 
with Mom."

"And?" I prompted.

Kathy didn't respond, perhaps expecting an explanation, but I 
didn't want to get into it. For three long years, I had to endure 
every week the constant arguments and pressure, and last year it 
had come to a boiling point; Dad had almost given me an 
ultimatum. But, I had reached my limit. I had been ready to snap. 
Everybody has a limit, and they should have realized it long time 
ago. I had come too close to cutting loose! But, filial piety 
wasn't something I could turn my back on--easily. Unfortunately, 
what they hadn't realized was, it had been a choice between self 
preservation and respecting their wishes. The work had been the 
only thing driving me, and if I had given that up... So, I had 
done the next best thing; I had given them the cold shoulder, 
ignoring them.

How could I explain what I had felt at the time? If something 
happened, if it was in the cards, yes, I might have gotten 
killed, but it had been a low probability, and still was a low 
probability. If I had left and came home, I would have died a 
slow death, piece by piece. Which one was worse? I knew I didn't 
have a death wish, and I had always been careful. I just had no 
interest in giving up the last thing that drove me... that kept 
me breathing one more day. How could I give up my work? And for 
what? For a little bit of risk? People still lived and worked 
there!

_How can I explain that? How can I make them or Kathy understand? 
I can't! I can't even talk about it, because it would hurt them._

_I've never felt so abandoned in my life before, by the people 
who were supposed to support me._

_I wish... you could understand how lonely it had felt, Kathy..._

I didn't want to dwell on the thoughts, because I didn't want to 
feel resentment. I waited patiently while trying to calm myself. 
I didn't know if she saw something in my face or thought better 
of it, because she decided to continue with what she was saying.

"After the talk with Dad, Mom realized if she insisted too much 
she might push you away. You never gave her the cold shoulder 
before. Before that, you usually got irritated, but tried to grin 
and bear it. And she realized it. She knows she's still overly 
protective and she can't help that. We both know how she's when 
it comes to her kids, but last year, you scared her."

"I see. And now?"

"She's kinda accepted the situation. Well, she knows you have a 
mind of your own and there's very little she can do about it. 
She's just worried about what could happen there. It's not the 
_work_, Mitch; it's the _place_."

"Kathy, it's not that bad. You know me. I'm cautious. Nothing's 
going to happen," I replied with confidence, trying to reassure 
her.

"You don't know that, Mitch. You can't kno--"

"Kathy, don't. Please?"

She gave a resigned sigh, but tightened her arms around me, 
letting me know how she felt. I rocked her, returning her hug, 
and whispering, "It will be all right, Sis. It will be all 
right."

When she calmed down, she looked up and said, "Anyways, she might 
probe gently, but she won't grill you. On the other hand, she 
might grill me."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know, Mitch. I don't want to get her hopes up. If she 
thinks you're involved with a girl, she might think you'll leave 
that place. I know it's too early for that, and you're not ready 
to leave that place... are you?"

"No, I'm not. In a way I enjoy the place, but especially the 
work. I really do enjoy my work, and you know there's been very 
little I enjoyed lately," I replied, encouraged by her response.

"I think, I understand. You wouldn't enjoy doing something else, 
would you?"

I shook my head.

_I'm sorry, Sis. I should have given you more credit. Thank you. 
You don't know how much that meant._

Brushing my cheek, she said, "It's OK! I'll handle, Mom. I want 
her happy, but I'm not going to get her hopes up. She needs a bit 
of good news to get her spirits up."

That reminded me what she had done years ago, about the school 
bullies. I couldn't respond; I had a lump forming at the back of 
my throat. I gave her a fierce hug, trying to make her understand 
how I felt.

"It's all right, Mitch. You do your best, and hurry home," she 
whispered.

I was still thinking of what she had said, about not getting 
Mom's hopes up. I wasn't ready yet, but maybe it was time to have 
a chat with her. I mulled it over, and even though I didn't know 
when I would feel ready, or how things would work out, I had to 
have a talk with, Mom. It felt right, in some inexplicable way. I 
didn't want Kathy caught between me and Mom. This was about me 
and I needed to deal with it.

"Mitch, what are you thinking?"

"I... I was thinking about, Mom. I'll have a talk with her, 
Kathy. It's been too long we had a talk. I think it's time."

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

"I don't know, but it seems the right thing to do."

"Mitch, don't rush into it. You're her first born, and... Well, 
you know how mothers are, with their first born."

She had a point there. Before I could say anything, she 
continued. "Let me probe first, while you're at the garage. I'll 
let you know how it went, and if you still want to, you can have 
a talk with her on Sunday."

"Uh... OK, Sis. You know best."

"Sisters always know best," she quipped.

"They do _not_!"

At that, we were laughing, the tension of the moment dissipating. 
Once we caught our breath, we decided we had wasted enough time 
already and went about starting on our respective agendas for the 
day.



 . . . .



Back at my parent's place, we chatted for a short while, before I 
got busy with my car. After checking the oil and tire pressures, 
I checked the battery and found it weak. I had had the battery 
disconnected, since the car wasn't going to be used for almost a 
month, when I was away from home, working.

_I should have put it on the charger yesterday._

Luckily, it wasn't as bad as I thought, and when I made the 
connections, I managed to start the car. I would know if it 
charged properly or if it was dying by the time I got to the 
garage. On the other hand, the engine was purring like a cat. It 
was time to hit the road and see how things went.

The ride to the garage was uneventful. Because it was almost time 
for a major service, I decided to get it done instead of the 
minor service. I might do some miles this vacation and I wanted 
it in tip-top condition. A couple of hours later, it was ready 
and with a mechanic we took it out for a spin to see if there was 
anything else. During the short ride I remembered I would drive 
at a lower altitude--we were currently at 800 meters above sea 
level, and that made quite a bit of difference in regards to fuel 
and air mixture, despite the electronic controls--and the last 
time I was by the coastline I had little problems. I mentioned it 
to the mechanic, and he drove us back to the garage to make the 
necessary adjustments, while explaining what and how he was doing 
the adjustment, referring to the display screen of the electronic 
gizmo he attached to the exhaust pipe. He warned me I might have 
a bit higher rpms while the engine was idle, and I would do less 
miles per liter at our current altitude, especially driving in 
city traffic, but it would improve once I hit the lower 
altitudes. He assured me I would have a really smooth performance 
when I was driving long distances on the highways. Satisfied with 
the service, I paid. One of the guys got the car quickly vacuumed 
and washed, courtesy of the garage--since I was pretty regular 
there--while I had a cup of coffee with the owner.

He asked why I always stayed around when the car was being 
serviced. I told him that most of the time the car was being 
serviced by a different mechanic, who might not be familiar with 
its history or problems. I also enjoyed watching and learning 
what they were doing and how they were doing it. He didn't take 
offense at my explanation, and suggested I should give him a call 
and make an appointment so that he could assign a particular 
mechanic. I had always dropped by without an appointment and 
sometimes I had to wait for a while, before they got to my car. 
The offer suited me. I got the impression the owner was trying to 
convince me they were doing a good job, and wanted to keep me as 
a regular, and valued customer. I hadn't had any problems with 
them and decided to take him up on his offer. I made a tentative 
appointment for two months later--on my next off-duty time--which 
I would confirm with him a few days prior to the actual date. 
During the ride back home, I was satisfied with what they had 
done and was looking forward to enjoying a good drive along the 
coastline.

I arrived home long before tea time. Dad was taking his afternoon 
nap, and would be up shortly. Mom and Sis were in the kitchen. 
So, I pulled up a chair and joined them. I could see Mom was 
looking more relaxed, perhaps happy, and I got the feeling Sis 
had something to do with that. When Mom got busy preparing tea, 
Kathy and I exchanged a quick glance, and she confirmed my 
suspicions. When Mom joined us, she knew something was up, and 
she figured I knew that she knew. She didn't say anything, but 
her eyes were smiling. I asked her if she wanted me to help her 
with tonight's cooking. She got a bit emotional and replied she'd 
like that very much. I could see Kathy was getting teary eyed as 
well, so deciding to break the mood, I asked Mom when Dad was 
getting up. Mom stood up, saying she would check on him, leaving 
Kathy and me alone in the kitchen. I turned to Kathy, to ask how 
Mom was doing, but she beat me to it.

"She's happy, Mitch. We talked a little bit, but she didn't even 
ask me for details. She saw the changes, and that was enough. She 
suspected you were getting involved with somebody and she figured 
it must have been something recent. She knows it's too early, but 
she's happy. Mostly because you seem to be doing better than 
before. Helping with the cooking was great touch, Bro. I couldn't 
have figured out something better than that."

"What about that place, my work?"

"We didn't talk about it and I got the feeling she knows it's too 
early. She might be everything, but she's realistic. As they say: 
'There is a light at the end of the tunnel'."

"Yeah. I guess there is, after all," I replied quietly.

Putting her hand on top of mine, Kathy said, "It's going to be 
good, Mitch. I could feel it."

I wished I was as sure as Kathy was, but I knew I had to start 
somewhere and thinking dark thoughts did not help.

The rest of the afternoon and the evening were great. I still 
enjoyed cooking as much I did when I was younger, and Mom and I 
had a great time discussing spices and ingredients--talking about 
various recipes. She accused me of being heavy handed with 
spices, especially the basil, parsley, thyme and my favorite, 
oregano. I told her she used too much garlic and onions. The 
dinner was a cheerful event, helped along by my dad's dry humor, 
teasing Mom and me about our lack of skills in the kitchen--
coming from a person who couldn't boil water if his life depended 
on it, and we teased him back mercilessly. However, that wasn't 
true. He didn't know much about cooking, but he knew how to cook 
a mean Hungarian Goulash, as Kathy reminded us, coming to Dad's 
defense. For a while it was sons and mothers versus dads and 
daughters. Eventually it quieted down, as nobody wanted to eat 
cold food.

After dinner, Dad asked what we wanted to watch, listing several 
movies on video. He was a movie buff, well, not exactly; he was a 
cinema historian, and knew a lot. I had developed a taste for 
movies early on, but as I reached my teenage years, it became 
apparent that I didn't share his love for certain genres; movies 
like the _Bicycle Thieves_ and many others. On the other hand, we 
both enjoyed the classics in various genres like musicals, 
comedies, a few westerns and war movies. And, he certainly didn't 
share my interest in what he called _Pop-Corn_ entertainment; the 
new Hollywood products filled to the brim with special effects or 
other gimmicks. He acknowledged the fact that new technologies 
were emerging in film making, and as such he welcomed the 
developments, but he maintained that movies were about telling a 
story, or about having a message, and in his own words, "As long 
as they are reasonable about it, technology is good, but movies 
aren't about the technology; the technology should help tell the 
story better." That was a point of discussion we never agreed, 
because I saw a place for pure, escapist entertainment, as well 
as the movies with a message, while he was unwilling to consider 
the first kind as anything but a real movie. In the end, we 
agreed to disagree on the subject. To tell the truth I wasn't 
inclined to get into a prolonged discussion on the subject, 
because he knew more than I did, and adding his knowledge in 
history, politics, languages, literature, and arts, he had a 
formidable arsenal at his disposal that he drew freely to make 
his point. I knew I was being stubborn on this issue, so he let 
it go at that, instead of trying to convince me. Perhaps, that 
might be one reason why I had chosen engineering, instead of 
following in his footsteps, not wanting to compete with him or 
live under his shadow, even though I shared a love of literature, 
and some of the arts, and to some extent history. On the other 
hand, my interests had always been in science and math, and 
technology, because I felt more comfortable with something that 
was tangible, whereas most of the arts, including the literature, 
had an abstract feel to it that I had some difficulties to deal 
with.

As I thought about our differences, I caught Mom and Sis voice 
their votes. They wanted to watch _On the Town_, a musical. Dad 
and I wanted to watch _Casablanca_ even though everyone had seen 
both of the movies several times over the years. Well, since both 
of the ladies wanted the same movie, and the votes were divided 
half-half, the choice was going to be what they wanted. Dad and I 
shared a look, and he let out a harrumph, muttering "women," and 
resignedly selected _On the Town_.

Just then, Kathy piped up, "I changed my mind. _Casablanca_," 
earning herself a quizzical look from Mom.

Dad and I were happy with that choice, until I caught sight of 
Kathy. She had a small smile on her lips with a curious twinkle 
in her eyes. Remembering what _Casablanca_ was about, I got an 
uneasy feeling. Was Kathy figuring out more stuff, or did she 
just want to see how I would react to the movie? By voting for 
_Casablanca_, had I given her more hints? I knew when I watched a 
good movie I really got into it. When I was young, Mom used to 
comment how I immersed myself in a movie, and I knew I revealed 
more about myself than I was aware of.

_Sorry, Kathy. No freebies for you tonight. It's too early and 
I'm not ready yet. Nice try, though. I'll give you that._

"Sorry, Dad. I changed my mind also. I vote for _On the Town_. 
Mom has the right idea."

The situation changed, suddenly. The votes were still divided, 
equally, but now, it came to pulling rank among women and as 
such, it was Mom's choice. Dad, of course, didn't understand why 
I changed my mind, so he teased me trying to change my mind. "I 
thought you knew a good movie from an average movie, Son."

I shrugged my shoulders and responded with, "I feel like a 
musical, Dad. Sorry."

Mom, however, saw the looks Kathy was giving me, and caught on to 
the byplay between us. She realized a private war was going on. 
She just didn't know what it involved. What's more, she was 
suspicious, why Kathy would change her vote, agreeing with my 
choice, instead of trying to vote against me; especially if this 
was a private war. Kathy knew she had lost her chance, and when I 
gave her a smug smile, she shrugged it off. We both knew she was 
still ahead of me in this game, but I could see, she really 
didn't want to miss this opportunity.

_So, you just wanted to watch me and see how I would react?_

That was good to know. If she was planning to see how I would 
react to the movie, she probably hadn't stumbled on everything, 
yet. It was a comforting thought, but as with all assumptions, it 
was dangerous. I knew I wasn't in the clear, yet. With Kathy, I 
never was, I thought ruefully.

Mom was still paying attention and she saw Kathy's shrug. She 
knew something was definitely up. Looking at Kathy, I nodded in 
Mom's direction. When she peeked at Mom, she got a sharp stare 
that said, "What are you up to?"

Kathy tried a "Who? Me?" but she couldn't pull it off. Mom seemed 
annoyed with her.

_Way to go, Sis. You try too hard. Enjoy the hot water and good 
luck with Mom._

The rest of the night was uneventful. On the way back to Kathy's 
place, we both took our own cars.



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 13: A Bombshell



Saturday morning, I woke up late. It felt good to be lazy for a 
change. There were no Saturdays or Sundays on a rig, although the 
morning reports were an hour later than weekdays, probably to 
give a psychological semblance of a weekend, or the Ops engineers 
wanted to have an extra hour of sleep.

After a visit to the bathroom for morning ablutions, followed by 
a quick shower, I put on jeans and an t-shirt, and went to the 
kitchen. Kathy was sitting on the couch, dressed in her peignoir, 
her knees tucked underneath with the newspaper on her lap. The TV 
was on with the morning cartoons. Grabbing a cup of coffee, I 
joined her. After she finished browsing through the paper, she 
put it aside and cuddled up to me and we watched the cartoons for 
a while, enjoying each other's company.

She was extremely quiet and I was starting to wonder if something 
was wrong with her. Sensing my anxiety, she said, "It's weekend 
laziness, Bro. I'm all right, I just missed watching the cartoons 
with you."

"You know, I've never been inquisitive about your life and you 
know why, but don't you have a boyfriend or something? What do 
you do on weekends, or when you have some free time?"

She laughed softly. "I'm lucky to have a brother like you. I know 
some of my friends had a lot of problems with their elder 
brothers."

"I guess, but then those brothers didn't have a lot of problems 
with their sisters, did they?" I teased her.

"You can exchange me for one of those girls if you want, but I'm 
keeping you as a brother."

"I didn't mean it like that and don't change the subject. It's 
time for a little role reversal. I need a break."

"You sure do, Bro. I haven't been easy on you. Well, let's see... 
There's a guy I've been going out for almost a year and a half. 
It's kind of long distance relationship. He works for a company 
that sells medical equipment and we met during one of his visits 
to the hospital. We try to see each other when he comes to town. 
He's not living so far away. About three hours by car. So, we 
still manage to get away, but you know how it is with med school. 
I still have almost one and a half years to go and the shifts at 
the Emergency ward are keeping me busy."

"So, it's a serious relation?"

"Yeah. But, he's waiting until I finish school. Well, I finished 
school, this is just specialization. But, you know how Mom is; 
first school, then marriage."

"Wow! My sister is getting married... If he's waiting that long 
he must be well-trained," I quipped.

"It's not like that at all, Bro," she retorted indignantly.

"I hope so, Sis. I haven't been much of a brother. You need a 
strong hand," I said, goading her.

"You rat! I'm not like that at all."

"I dunno, Sis. You managed to whip me up pretty good on a regular 
basis."

"Girls mature faster than boys, Bro. That's why."

"I'm not sure about that. How old are you?" I asked, then quickly 
clarified my question with, "Mentally?"

She laughed at my quip. "It depends. Anywhere between 15 and 40."

"Must have come in handy all these years."

"You betcha."

"Tell me. How's he taking the long distance relation?"

"He's patient."

"He must be. Knowing you, I'm not surprised." I was enjoying 
pressing her buttons.

"Give me a break, Mitch. I'm not like that at all," she replied 
hotly. Then softening her tone, she said, "Not all the time. I 
save that for you. But sometimes, I drive him crazy too, and he 
loves it."

With an amused smile, she added, "In that respect, he's like 
you."

"That's very presumptuous of you, Kathy. I never said I enjoyed 
being driven crazy. Especially by you," I replied with a 
pretentious tone.

"I know. That's why you don't put up with my antics." Her eyes 
were dancing with mirth.

"I give up," I said, raising my hands in surrender, then 
delivered a parting shot, "But, I hope he doesn't. Otherwise 
he'll not be able to survive you."

"He doesn't need to survive. I keep him barely alive, to serve 
his Queen."

"Shit, Sis. Show some mercy and throw him to the lions."

"Lions wouldn't know what to do with him, but I do," she replied 
and colored slightly, realizing what she said.

I knew she had had several boyfriends, and we rarely talked about 
that part of our lives. When we were young, we had teased each 
other, as we were curious, but as adults, we rarely talked about 
our private lives. Perhaps, because we had discovered sex, and 
learned something about it.

"Does he make you happy, Kathy?"

"Yes, he does. And I make him happy too. Does that satisfy your 
curiosity?" she replied without getting embarrassed.

"Sis, I know you have a busy life. Med school, the hospital. They 
don't make for a very active social life. I worry about you, even 
though I know you can take care of yourself. I just want to know 
you are happy."

"I'm happy. Since we have that out of the way, tell me, dear 
brother. Why can't I ask you the same questions?"

"But Kathy, you have used up your quota of questions for the next 
ten years, whereas I'm still saving them up," I retorted with a 
haughty tone.

"Oh, you! You're impossible."

She was coming with an elbow, but I quickly gathered her in my 
arms, locking her securely in my embrace. She tried to break 
free, but then gave up and relaxed. If she were a cat, I would 
bet anything she would be purring at that moment. That was 
another side of Kathy I had missed. Whoever the guy was, he was 
getting a bundle of energy, but a loving bundle. If he treated 
her right, Kathy would make his life heaven and if he treated her 
wrong... Well, I didn't need to get involved, unless I wanted to 
put him out of his misery instead of letting him suffer at 
Kathy's hands. She wasn't really like that, but I enjoyed joking 
about what a witch she was. She didn't have a vicious bone in 
her, unless somebody sought to hurt her on purpose. She would 
ignore them, but if they continued, all bets were off.

When we were young, I had seen how she had handled a few of the 
boys she broke up with. She had been to the point and very 
direct, cutting them loose, politely, without spite. One idiot 
had tried to get back at her, more than once. Well, let me just 
say he wished he had never set eyes on her and leave it at that. 
Kathy knew how to take care of herself.

"Mitch, why didn't you hit on any of my friends when we were 
young? I know some brothers who tried."

"I dunno, Sis. I was pretty shy and I was busy."

"You were still around quite a bit, when some of them were 
visiting. You didn't even ask me about them," she insisted.

"I don't know, Sis. Why are you asking? This isn't about Sarah, 
is it?"

"Sarah was the most frequent visitor and you liked each other. 
You two were friendly, but I also remember a time when you did 
try to hide for a while when she was around."

"I wasn't always with you two, Kathy. Most of the time I would be 
studying in my room and when I heard you practicing, I would take 
a break. I rarely came to your room to listen to her play and 
sing."

"Why didn't you ask her out? Was it because she was a bit pudgy?"

"No, Sis. I always thought she was good looking, even beautiful. 
I'm not even sure if I would call her pudgy... and there was more 
to her than that. I never thought she would go out with me. If I 
had known what I know now... Besides, she was your best friend 
and it could have gotten awkward. You shared a lot. I had my 
hands full with you, as I still do nowadays."

Thinking back to those days, I remembered something else; a 
specific memory of Sarah and what I had really thought of her...

_Not only that, Sis, but I had seen her. My first living, 
breathing girl. She wasn't just good looking, she was beautiful._

I was sixteen and Kathy and Sarah were fifteen at the time. Our 
parents were out, visiting friends. Kathy was home from boarding 
school for the weekend, and Sarah was visiting her for a practice 
session. I was with my sensei, doing my practices. That day, I 
was feeling tired and Sensei cut our lesson short, so I arrived 
home earlier than expected. I heard Kathy preparing something in 
the kitchen, and without even saying hello, I hurried to the 
toilet. My stomach was feeling a bit queasy. I wasn't sure if I 
would get sick, but I didn't want to take any chances. The door 
wasn't locked. If it had been, I wouldn't have seen the marvels I 
saw that day.

Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greeted me when 
I opened the door. Sarah was sitting on the cover of the toilet, 
with her jeans and panties on her ankles and knees spread wide 
apart. She was looking down, busy with her vagina. The fingers of 
one hand was holding the lips of her vagina open, while the other 
hand had something white, cylindrical, which she was trying to 
put inside her.

Thanks to Playboy and several interesting books I was becoming 
familiar with the female anatomy. I had not had any hands on 
experience--so to speak, except working on myself(!) that is--but 
I knew something of the wonders awaiting me. I was also aware of 
the monthlies and some of the female products. After reading 
about the stuff, one day I gathered my courage and asked my 
sister to explain some of the female stuff. Although she teased 
me a little bit, she eventually told me about the birth control 
stuff, and other things like tampons and such. She wanted to be a 
doctor and she had a small collection of text books, which I 
borrowed from her and they came in handy--well, as handy as they 
could be considering the majority of the text wasn't written in 
any understandable terms. So, I knew Sarah was putting in a 
tampon and I realized she must be having her period, although I 
didn't see any blood when my eyes caught sight of the pink inner 
flesh. She had very little hair around her mons and vaginal lips, 
and it was pale blonde, which did little to hide anything from my 
view.

At the sound of the door opening, she looked up, while her hands 
stayed where they were and our eyes met. I was frozen to the 
spot, waiting for a scream that never came. Sarah was frozen in 
the middle of a delicate operation and she didn't even attempt to 
hide her private parts. Our eyes locked to each other's but, 
being a horny sixteen year old, my eyes strayed to her privates 
for a brief moment and I sprang an instant woody. I was wearing 
my sweats and my lump was clearly visible. I started to get red 
in my face when Sarah noticed the bulge. When our eyes met again, 
she blushed and realizing I had forgotten my manners, I quickly 
turned my back and made my way out while mumbling, "Sorry. I 
didn't know the toilet was occupied," closing the door behind me. 
I had forgotten about my queasy stomach.

That must have been the most embarrassing point in my young life 
and Sarah's too, but the most tantalizing experience as well. I 
had butterflies in my stomach until Sarah left, expecting Kathy 
to give me hell for what happened. I must have masturbated two or 
three times before bed time, and a few more times in bed, late at 
night, seeing the image of her flesh that had been burned into my 
brain. After the pictures in Playboy magazines, I had had my 
first peek at a girl. For more than a year, Sarah occupied my 
masturbation fantasies regularly. After that eventful day, I 
evaded her for several weeks, unable to bring myself to be in the 
same room with her or unable to look at her in the eye. How could 
I, knowing I was masturbating to her image? I was sure she would 
know what I was thinking or doing, when she looked at me. I was 
also expecting the axe to fall, especially from Kathy, but when 
nothing happened, I realized Sarah had not shared that incident 
with her. The embarrassment had eventually worn off, but I didn't 
want to spring a woody every time I saw her. Afterwards, we saw 
each other and interacted as we normally did, but we never 
mentioned the incident or strayed anywhere near it. It was as if 
it had never happened.

I had always talked about her as a good looking girl. Even 
yesterday, I thought of her in those terms, mostly because she 
had been pudgy. But, that day, when I saw her half naked, I 
didn't see a pudgy girl. She didn't have thick legs or thighs, 
just ample hips with some baby fat and a bit of a tummy--a sexy 
tummy. I saw a beautiful girl. Since she was beautiful, I 
wondered why she would be interested in me. But, if she was just 
good looking, I could gather my courage to ask her out. The thing 
was, I never gathered my courage, even though I was interested in 
her for quite sometime. After that incident, the embarrassment of 
the situation stopped me from ever entertaining the notion of 
asking her out. Why would she go out with an impolite imbecile, 
who embarrassed her? Eventually, Sarah fell into the background 
noise, as I got ever busier with school, and martial arts, and 
friends of my own.

_Talk about good memories! I hope she has forgotten that little 
incident._

I smiled unconsciously at the memory, still lost in the journey I 
was taking in the past.

"Is there a plan for today, Kathy?"

"I don't know. I rarely get the chance to be lazy. We could go 
out for shopping or something."

"Yeah. We could do that. I need to check out what's new in the 
bookstores."

"I'm not in the mood for that. Please?" she whined.

"And what am I going to do during my vacation?"

"I thought you would be spending time with Dana."

"She's working and..." I found myself saying, before I caught 
myself.

Kathy was back at her game, laughing quietly at how easily she 
had tricked me.

"Come on, Kathy. Can't I relax here, with you?"

"OK, Bro. Cease fire. I'll let you know when it's over," she said 
with a magnanimous tone.

"Thank you. You're very kind, your _Haughtiness_," I replied, my 
tone dripping pure sarcasm.

"I have some new books. Check them out. Otherwise, you can do 
your book shopping on Monday. We can watch TV and relax."

"You also want breakfast served?" I teased her.

"That would be nice, Mitch." She looked up expectantly.

"Why don't you say, 'I want to be pampered'?"

She laughed at that quip. "OK. I want to be _pampered_."

So I was elected chef, once again, preparing breakfast. After 
that I had to do the dishes, something I didn't really like. But, 
Kathy was enjoying the break from her daily routine and I didn't 
have the heart even to ask her to help dry the stuff. She went to 
the bookshelf and selected a few books, bringing them to me, 
saying they were her latest acquisitions. I found a new Ludlum 
book and settled for a read. Kathy went for a shower.

The rest of the day, we spent reading and listening to music. 
When we got tired of all that, we caught a movie or a cartoon on 
the TV. Since she wanted to be pampered, I prepared tea and some 
sandwiches around four o'clock, and served. After tea, I fell 
asleep on the couch. I guess in this relaxed atmosphere, all my 
tiredness was coming out. She woke me up two hours later and we 
got ready for the party at Sarah's.

When I asked about the dress code, Kathy said, casual and sporty, 
thus jeans were OK. I put on jeans and an Oxford shirt. It was 
getting cold at night time, so I opted for a sporty tweed jacket, 
going for semi-formal attire. Kathy was dressed in comfortable, 
dark colored corduroy pants and a matching blouse. Her usually 
dark brown hair was shiny, and she still had lighter tones, 
bleached by sun on her summer vacation. A vest completed the 
look. She had the top few buttons of the blouse open with her 
necklace clearly visible.

_She really likes her gift._

I checked the time. It was too early to go to the party, but 
Kathy said we needed to catch a quick bite at a hamburger joint 
and pick up some flowers. Seeing that I was wondering why we 
would be catching a bite, she told me that there would be snacks 
and appetizers, but she didn't want to drink on an empty stomach. 
I was pleased to see her being careful. I was reluctant to take 
the car, since we both would be drinking, but Kathy convinced me 
that she would have only one or two glasses of wine and would 
drive us back home, plus we were going to go to the florist and 
such.



* * * * *



By eight o'clock, I was driving to Sarah's place with Kathy 
giving me the directions.

"By the way, Bro, the ceasefire is over," she announced, out of 
the blue.

"And why is that, Kathy? Getting frisky?"

She didn't reply, but when I insisted, she sighed and said, "OK, 
I'll be a good sport and give you a little bit of warning. I'm 
hoping you'll be distracted by Sarah. Happy?"

"Thank you. You're most generous," I retorted.

She ignored my remark and switched to something different. "I 
need to know something, Mitch. Do you mind if I warn her that 
you're out of circulation?"

"I can handle it, but it's been a long time and you know her 
better than I do. And you were the one who planned and schemed to 
get me to this party. I think that might be best," I replied, 
good naturedly.

"No problem. I just hope she takes the hint. You don't know this, 
but she's lost that little bit of self-consciousness she had had 
and became a very confident girl. She can get stubborn."

"I'll have to deal with that when the time comes. Thanks for the 
heads up."

As we arrived at Sarah's apartment block, Kathy described me the 
place. Sarah had a one bedroom flat, but it was big for a single 
person. Apart from a large living room and a small dining room, 
her flat had a medium sized kitchen, unlike Kathy's flat where 
the kitchen was part of the living room. When I asked how Sarah 
managed to afford it, Kathy told me, the apartment block was 
older, far from the city center, and priced accordingly.

We took the elevator to Sarah's flat. On the way up, I put on my 
glasses (I used them infrequently, when reading), and checked my 
appearance on the wall mirror. I was planning to surprise Sarah. 
She hadn't seen me for several years, especially with a moustache 
and a beard. With the gray and white streak I had on my temples, 
and the addition of glasses, I looked much older than a mere 25 
something. The whole effect gave an appearance of an early-to-mid 
30s college instructor.

When Kathy saw what I was doing, she chuckled. "You're a _rat_, 
Mitch. That's a nasty trick to pull on a girl you've known for so 
long."

"Hey! I'm the one you were planning to set up for an encounter 
with a bombshell. Don't you forget that!"

She shrugged, but I could see she was amused.

"And you're not going to--" I started.

She cut me off. "No, I won't warn her. This, I have to see," she 
finished with a soft giggle.

When we arrived at the fifth floor, Kathy directed us to Sarah's 
flat and rang the bell. Kathy was standing in front of me to my 
left and she had the flowers. I was standing slightly to her 
right and behind her, with a bottle of Chardonnay (Kathy had 
mentioned both of them preferred white wine). The door opened, 
revealing a very striking young woman. Her hair was very pale 
blonde, almost white and was cut short to frame a beautiful face. 
She had a bit of make-up that accentuated her gray eyes and the 
contrast between her hair color and eyes was dramatic. The dark 
blue sweater was perhaps a size too small, but showed off her 
bust line perfectly, leaving nothing to the imagination. For a 
moment, I wondered if she was wearing any bra, since the material 
was thin enough and I couldn't see any bra straps, and I got a 
glimpse of bumps that looked to be her nipples. The stretch jeans 
and a wide belt completed Sarah's new look, showing off her legs 
and narrow waist.

_This is no pudgy or good looking girl. Mom is right; this is 
definitely a blonde bombshell._

Having been warned, I was prepared for the new Sarah, but I have 
to admit, she was beyond my expectations. However, I took in her 
sight carefully, without showing any reaction. Sarah, on the 
other hand, saw Kathy, before directing her attention to me. I 
formed a quick and shy smile as strangers do when they meet the 
first time. Seeing an older person, she returned her gaze quickly 
back to Kathy, giving her a puzzled look, while saying, "Hi 
Kathy."

Kathy returned Sarah's greeting, then half turned to me, but 
before she could say anything, I politely cut in.

"So, you're Sarah," I said, assuming the tone and style of a 
stranger and Sarah nodded with a polite smile. Returning her 
smile, I added, "I've heard so much about you from Katherine."

The use of Kathy's full name, our apparent age difference and my 
little speech created the image I wanted. Then I dropped the 
bombshell. Even Kathy was unprepared for what I was going to do.

"Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm Katherine's new beau," 
I said, with a dramatic pause.

Sarah's eyes widened, and I heard Kathy's sudden intake at my 
proclamation, but she caught herself in time. I knew Sarah was 
surprised, because she glanced at Kathy's direction, before 
turning her attention back to me.

"Mitchell Tanner. Pleased to meet you," I said without 
hesitation.

For a full two or three seconds, she didn't make the connection, 
and she was going to respond with her own introduction, when my 
name percolated through her surprise, and she exclaimed, 
"Mitchell!!!"

"Yep. The one and only," I quipped, giving her a smile full of 
mischief.

Kathy was grinning from ear to ear, and Sarah realized she had 
been taken for a good ride. She quickly turned on Kathy. "You 
witch. You didn't say anything about how much he had changed, and 
you let him pull that stunt on me? I thought you were my friend."

Then turning to me, she said, "I should be angry with you. I 
would never have expected something like that. Not from that shy 
and polite boy I used to know. My, but you've changed."

Taking my glasses off and putting them in my jacket pocket, I 
gave her an appraising look, and said, "You haven't changed, 
Sarah. You're as beautiful as ever."

Her eyes glittered at the compliment and she moved in for a hug 
and a kiss. Stepping back, she gave another appraising look. With 
a grin, she asked, "Since I can't get angry with you, I think 
I'll take it out on your sister. Do you mind?"

"Be my guest." I grinned back.

Turning back to Kathy, she said, "Your new beau, eh? Your old 
beau is coming later tonight. I'll let him know he's been 
replaced."

Kathy perked up at that little bit of news and I cut into the 
conversation. "Kathy, are you seeing others besides me? You've 
got some explaining to do," with a serious tone.

"Get in the queue, Mitchell. She's mine first. When I'm finished 
with her, you'll get the remains," Sarah retorted, laughing.

I expected Kathy to fight back, but she seemed preoccupied with 
the news of her boyfriend. When she looked up, I gave her a 
knowing snicker, but she returned it with an unabashed smile and 
shrugged her shoulders. She knew what I was thinking. Her 
boyfriend would keep her occupied, and distracted, and I wouldn't 
have to watch my back all the time.

Sarah grabbed Kathy by the arm and invited us in. She took the 
wine bottle and the flowers, and directed us to the living room, 
where she made the introductions to several of her friends. I 
knew some of the faces, so we exchanged quick greetings, and I 
could see some raised eyebrows, surprised at my older look. I 
noticed Sarah was pulling Kathy to the kitchen, and I was pretty 
sure Kathy was going to get a bit of heat for her part in the 
stunt I pulled, or she was going to wear Kathy's ear off with 
questions about me. Either way, Kathy was in for some heavy 
weather. I smiled internally at the thought. She deserved it, 
what with paybacks and all that. I chatted for a few minutes, 
before somebody mentioned there was some food and drinks in the 
dining room. Excusing myself, I went to the dining room.

Sarah had set up a small buffet on one table, with some snacks, 
starters and bowls of salad, and various alcoholic and non-
alcoholic drinks. I got myself a glass of wine, then headed to 
the kitchen, wondering if Kathy was still alive. I had given 
enough time to them to let them talk over whatever private stuff 
they might want to talk about. It was time to see what was going 
on. When I entered the kitchen the two were laughing over 
something. Sarah asked me to open the Chardonnay we brought and I 
filled two glasses for the girls and distributed the drinks.

Now that Sarah was finished with Kathy, she turned her attention 
to me. With a mischievous smile, she said, "Your sister told me 
you were busy. I didn't know clowns had so much work."

"Well, Sarah, it's like this: not only do we work the circus, but 
we also do house calls and parties. So, yeah. There's a lot of 
work to go around. The unfortunate part is we don't get 
recognized as other entertainers. I heard there was a new singer 
coming tonight for a private preview and the tickets were hard to 
get. I had to beg Kathy to find some tickets for tonight's show," 
I returned.

"Really?" she responded, getting my drift, but she didn't know I 
was setting her up again.

"Really. According to the critics, she's got the looks, but... 
her voice leaves a lot to be desired. But we both know looks are 
everything in the entertainment business, right?" I said.

She stared at me with her mouth open, astounded at my outrageous 
description of her and how I managed to pull it off without 
blinking an eye. I raised my glass, then took a sip from my wine, 
enjoying myself immensely.

Collecting herself, she came back with, "Yeah, I heard the same. 
I know her pretty well."

Moving in closer, she brushed her hand over my arm, then leaned 
closer and said, "If you're interested, I can arrange a private 
audition with her. You might like her. She's much nicer up close 
and personal."

Taking a sip from her wine, she gave me a flirty look, her eyes 
filled with mischief.

"Well... I would love to, but I'm not sure my girlfriend would 
understand."

"Ahh, that's a pity, Mitch. I heard that she's a fun girl and her 
auditions are always full of fun. You would be missing a great 
opportunity. But, if your girl friend isn't open minded, she 
might have a different view."

She was still smiling and flirty, but there was definitely a 
promise of serious adult fun in her delivery. I smiled back, but 
my eyes were questioning. She gave a small nod followed with a 
quick squeeze on my arm, confirming my suspicions, before taking 
her hand off my arm.

Disengaging from me, she said, "I better check on the guests."

I was surprised by Sarah's actions and realized she was serious 
about her invitation.

"What are you doing, Mitchell?" Kathy asked.

"Huh?"

"Are you trying to get into her pants?" she insisted.

"Come on, Kathy. You've heard the exchange. I was just joking and 
she managed to turn it into an invitation, if I didn't 
misunderstand her. Didn't you tell her I was out of the 
circulation?"

"I did, but she said you were old enough to make your own 
decisions. I don't know what got into her. You didn't help 
either. Didn't you realize what you were doing?"

"What was I doing?"

"You were being charming."

"Kathy, stop and listen to what you're saying. I just made a few 
quips and I was having fun, joking with her. What did you expect 
me to do? Stand here like a shy fifteen year old boy and act 
tongue tied and clumsy?"

At that, Kathy chuckled and gave me an embarrassed smile. "Sorry, 
Bro. You're right. For a moment, I got worried about what might 
happen to Sarah or to your relation with Dana. I have to warn you 
though. I don't know why, but she's set her eyes on you and she's 
horny."

"Horny?"

"Oh, yes. I know her pretty well. I know how she gets and acts. 
You think she's flirty, but I saw her nostrils flare and the 
slight flush on her skin, as she was flirting with you. Haven't 
you seen how wide her eyes were?"

When I didn't comment, Kathy laughed. "Don't tell me you didn't 
notice her tits. She's not wearing a bra and her nipples were 
hard."

"Jeeez, Kathy! I'm not a virgin boy! I don't have to resort to a 
strip search to see if I could score with a woman, when I want to 
score," I replied, irritated with the way she was talking to me.

I didn't understand why Kathy was acting the way she was. 
Patronizing, and almost jealous and bitchy. First, she accused me 
of being charming and now, she was treating me as if I was a 
virgin teenager. She never talked about girls the way she did. 
Why would she talk about Sarah, her best friend, like that? I 
took a careful look at her, trying to understand what was wrong 
with her.

_Oh, man! Sarah was horny? Forget about Sarah. Kathy was on 
fire._

I thought about what she said and how she said it. She was 
frustrated. Her boyfriend was coming and I guess she missed him. 
I wondered if my presence in her house was cramping her love 
life. Perhaps, she didn't feel comfortable having her boyfriend 
at her place when I was there.

"Kathy, I could spend the night in a hotel," I said, gently.

"What?"

"Sis, I don't want to cramp your life."

This time, she got what I was trying to tell her and she colored 
slightly. Composing herself, she asked, "Was I being bitchy?"

"Something like that," I replied, smiling. "You live a busy and 
stressful life, Kathy, and you told me you love him. You need to 
relax, as anybody else. It's no big deal for me to get a room in 
a hotel."

She gave a soft sigh, then said, "You don't have to do that, 
Bro."

"Kathy, I'm not only thinking of you. I'm trying to protect 
myself," I replied, with a teasing tone.

That got me a laugh, as I intended. She said, "The night is still 
young. We'll see how it goes. I didn't know Mark was coming. If 
he didn't mention it to me, usually it means he might not make 
it. I just didn't realize I missed him. But, I missed you too."

"Well, thanks, but I don't think I can relax you like he does. 
Come on, let's see what Sarah is up to," I said.

We made our way back to the living room. A few more people 
arrived while we were talking together. There were one or two of 
the sharks, and at first, they didn't recognize me, for which I 
was glad. Unfortunately my relief was short lived, as they 
eventually worked out who I was. As the siege got underway, I 
made a quick escape to the dining room with the excuse to get a 
re-fill. Kathy realized what I was doing, but she was caught up 
in a conversation and was unable to come to my aid.

I filled up my glass and was busy filling up a small plate with 
snacks. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw the two girls 
converge on me. Although they couldn't really engage me in a 
conversation, while I was attempting to eat, they would stick to 
me like flies. I tried to work out my options, but my thoughts 
were interrupted by a cheerful, "There you are!"

When I turned around, I saw Sarah coming our way.

"I need your help with something in the kitchen, Mitchell," she 
said.

Before the two other girls could say something, I said, "At your 
service, Sarah." With my plate and glass in my hands, I walked to 
her, giving a curt nod and a polite greeting to the two sharks, 
as I passed them.

I followed Sarah to the kitchen. She put her glass on the small 
table and taking my glass and plate from my hands, put them next 
to her glass. Pointing me to the shelf with various packages of 
tea and coffee, she asked me to get the coffee. It was pretty 
high for her to reach easily, even though she was quite tall at 
5'8", but to my 5'11" she was shorter. I didn't understand why 
she didn't step on a chair to get it herself, however she had 
saved me from the two sharks, so I was glad to help her with the 
simple task.

When I gave her the package, she asked me to take a seat. I 
pulled one of the chairs and sat by the side of the table, 
watching her prepare coffee. Once the percolator was running, she 
came to me and, without hesitation, sat on my lap, sideways, with 
her back to the table, taking me by surprise. After settling her 
butt comfortably and giving me the beginnings of a hard-on with 
her efforts, she turned to face me.

Putting her hands around my neck, she said, "Tonight, I'm your 
escort, or rather, your protection."

"Protection from what, Sarah?" I asked with a small laugh.

"Kathy said you called them sharks," she replied with an amused 
smile.

"Oh! So, she put you up to the task?"

"I volunteered. After all, you're my best friend's brother," she 
replied, flirting.

Moving closer, she brushed her cheek against mine. I felt her 
soft breath washing over my neck. She gave a wet lick with her 
tongue and nipped my earlobe, making me shiver.

"And, who is going to protect me from you?" I teased.

She pressed her tits against my chest and moved her hips, her 
butt stimulating my semi-hard cock. I knew she could feel my 
hardness.

"Mmmm... This feels nice. You know, you owe me," She said.

"Owe you? For protecting me or taking advantage of me?" I replied 
with an amused tone.

"I won't take advantage of you and the protection is free," she 
replied throatily.

"So, what do I owe you? I should charge you for parking," I 
retorted.

Pulling back, she gave me a look filled with mirth. When she had 
my attention, she said, "I showed you mine, but I never got to 
see yours."

She moved her ass, rubbing my hard-on to make her point.

_Damn!!! She remembers that incident. After all these years..._

Seeing the realization on my face, she nodded her head. "Do you 
think that's fair?" she asked, flirting.

"I was hoping you would have forgotten that accidental encounter. 
You know, it was an accident."

"I know. I also knew I gave you an eyeful. Tell me Mitchell, why 
did you hide away, for several weeks, after that incident?"

"I liked you, and I always thought you were beautiful. I was 
embarrassed and I couldn't bring myself to look at you. I didn't 
want to spring a woody every time I looked at you, because I 
remembered what I had seen. That can be pretty embarrassing for a 
shy sixteen year old."

"I guess. So, how many times did you have to masturbate?" she 
asked with a knowing grin.

"You don't want to know," I replied, laughing.

"That many, eh?" she said with a snicker. "Well, I don't know how 
many times I masturbated that night, but I remember I rubbed my 
little button raw. You had the lead role in my fantasies for more 
than a year."

"You weren't embarrassed?"

"I was, when it happened, but I also caught sight of your lump. I 
was a horny little thing. Girls mature earlier. I liked you very 
much, and I fantasized a lot. As shy as you were, I was self-
conscious about my looks. I hoped you would ask me out one day, 
but it never happened and I thought maybe you didn't think I was 
pretty, so I never tried."

"Sarah, I was really shy at the time. I always thought you were 
beautiful. I even tried to convince myself you were just good 
looking, trying to label you as pudgy. It worked for a while, but 
I knew you were beautiful. I just couldn't get my courage up to 
ask you out."

"I was _pudgy_. Did you really think I was beautiful?"

"Yes I did. And when I saw you half naked that day, I knew I was 
looking at a beautiful girl. You had a bit of a tummy, but I 
thought it made you look sexy. You had some baby fat, but that 
didn't take anything from your beauty. I always enjoyed your 
company and you know I didn't date any girls."

She smiled fondly at my reply, then said, "Kathy told me you're 
out of circulation. It must be a recent thing, since she hadn't 
said anything when I had asked about you."

"Yes, it's recent."

"Look, Mitch. I'm not going to try anything. Not after learning 
you're involved with somebody. I hope you trust me when I say I 
wouldn't come between you and your girl friend. We've known each 
other for many years, and I'm still your sister's best friend. If 
I did something like that, Kathy would have my hide. We're too 
good friends for something like that. OK?" she said with a 
serious tone.

"I hear a 'but' coming," I said, softly.

She smiled. "But, I was hoping for an opportunity to live out my 
teenage fantasy. I liked you as a teenager and lusted after you. 
I still lust after you, but that's got nothing to do with love. I 
was wondering if you'd like to live out an experience with the 
object of your teenage masturbation fantasies."

Giving me an embarrassed look, she continued, "I... I don't do 
this kind of thing, Mitch. I don't try to steal another woman's 
man. It's just... we've been friends for a long time, and I hope 
you don't take my proposition the wrong way."

When I nodded my understanding, she continued, "I don't want your 
answer now, Mitch. I'm enjoying flirting with you very much and I 
get the feeling you enjoy it as well. Why don't we continue? At 
the end of the night, if you want to, you can spend the night 
here. No strings attached. We're both adults and know there's 
nothing wrong with some recreational fun. That's all I'm asking. 
I'm not looking for love or commitment. Just some fun time." The 
look in her eyes was without any disguise and I could see she was 
horny. Her lust was palpable, coming in waves. She gave me a 
kiss--passionate, lustful, much different then what I had with 
Dana.

She was really having an effect on me and I wanted her. I wasn't 
sure if I would be cheating on Dana, and was feeling a bit of 
guilt for wanting Sarah. Her talk about our teenage years 
reminded me all the fantasies I had had about her when I was 
young. I had lusted after her for a long time, but I had never 
given an inkling of what I thought to her. Her offer was very 
attractive and I found it difficult to put it aside without due 
consideration. I guess my childhood attraction had been pretty 
strong. I suspected she mentioned the past on purpose, which made 
sense, considering we both confessed to teenage lust. Also, I had 
been too long without female company. I didn't have much female 
company in the last several years. I hadn't felt like getting 
physical with any woman, after I had my heart broken--after 
_her_. The few occasions wouldn't have happened, if I hadn't been 
feeling lonely, horny, and the girls hadn't been interested as 
well. Even then, I hadn't gone to bed with just anybody. After 
her, 'just-sex' wasn't something that appealed. I had too much 
emptiness. Dana had been right when we talked about my past, and 
how she determined the true nature of what I called casual sex. 
The few times I had tried purely physical relations had been more 
than enough to convince me. I needed and wanted some kind of 
emotional connection with the physical side. 'Just-sex' reminded 
me of the emptiness more than the times I went without any sex.

I decided to give it a bit of time and see what would develop. I 
wanted to think about my relationship with Dana. If I took Sarah 
up on her offer, would I be cheating on Dana? At the back of my 
mind, however, I knew if I was thinking about cheating or not 
cheating, I had already made up my mind. I was just trying to 
find a way to take Sarah up on her offer and not feel guilty 
about doing it.

Getting off my lap, she stood up and pulled me to my feet. "Come 
on, let's join the others."

Giving me a lustful look, she added, "I'll keep you safe."

"Riiightt," I retorted with a snort.

While she was picking our glasses, I discreetly arranged my hard-
on, but she caught me and licked her lips lasciviously. To take 
my mind off the effect she was having on me I took a bite from my 
plate, but decided I wasn't hungry, and left the plate on the 
table. Giving me my glass, she hooked her arm in mine and I let 
her steer us to the living room. She directed us to a love seat 
and after I sat down, she sat on my lap, as she had done in the 
kitchen.

"This is just to mark my territory, so they leave you alone, but 
we have to put on a good show," she said, before locking her lips 
to mine.

We shared a hot and wet kiss, with lots of tongue action. After 
she checked out my tonsils, we broke the kiss. Moving her ass, 
she felt my hardness. "Mmmm. I think I better keep it warm. I may 
not get another chance. Do you mind?" she asked.

"It's hard to mind, Sarah."

"I can feel how hard it is," she replied, with a teasing smile.

I caught Kathy watching us and she gave me a quizzical look. When 
I gave her a small shrug, Sarah felt it and asked, "Kathy?"

"Yep. Sarah, is her boyfriend coming?"

"Yes. I got a call about two hours ago. He was calling from a gas 
station and was on the way here. Why?"

"Kathy said she didn't know he would be coming and she's still 
not sure if he'll show up. I think she missed him a lot and is a 
bit frustrated. I don't want her to get annoyed with you, because 
you're flirting with her brother. You two are too good friends 
for something like that."

"Oh! I didn't tell her that he was on the way. I wanted to see 
her squirm after that little stunt she let you pull. I'd better 
get her calmed down. Don't go anywhere," she said, before getting 
off my lap to talk with Kathy.

I turned my attention to the other guests, my eyes sweeping the 
room. To my disconcert I saw the mousy brunette--Lizzie or 
something--the most brazen of the sharks, eyeing me. As soon as 
we made eye contact, she smiled and started in my direction. I 
was pretty sure she had seen the show Sarah and I had put on, and 
I suspected she was going to ignore it. I wondered how far she 
would go in her attempts. I was hoping she wouldn't risk 
offending Sarah.

"Hi, Mitchell. How are you?"

"Fine. How are you?" I replied politely.

"I'm fine," she replied and made a move to sit on my lap, as if 
it was an everyday occurrence. I told you she was brazen.

"Sorry, that seat is reserved and I know she would mind if 
somebody else used it," I said quickly.

That stopped her on her tracks, but she wasn't going to give it 
up so easily.

"Oh! I didn't know you were involved with somebody. Who's the 
lucky girl?" she asked, as if she hadn't seen the show we put on 
a few minutes ago.

I didn't care for her brazen ways. Although I was polite with 
people, this time I felt like teaching her a lesson. So I called 
her theatrics.

"We've never known each other well enough for you to get intimate 
with me or sit on my lap. I don't know what gave you the idea. 
Unless, you saw the owner vacate that very spot."

She colored slightly at that, before coming back with, "You mean, 
Sarah? I know you were childhood friends, so I didn't give it a 
second thought."

I decided to let her off the hook, before it got nasty. I had 
exacted a little measure of satisfaction, after all.

"Yes, among other things, we've been childhood friends as well," 
I replied with an even tone.

"So, how long has it been?" she asked.

She just didn't know when to quit.

"Is that pertinent... to something?" I asked, pointedly.

"I was just making conversation. Sarah is a good friend, but she 
didn't mention anything."

She was implying a close friendship with Sarah, but we both knew 
they were not close friends, not like Kathy. I also suspected she 
was questioning if I was really involved with Sarah. I haven't 
exactly lied, carefully evading the question, while nudging her 
to draw the wrong conclusion, so I was a bit pissed off at what 
she was implying, almost calling me a liar. I tried to calm 
myself, before responding to her.

"Well, I know Kathy is a very close friend of Sarah, but I didn't 
hear any other names mentioned," I replied, offering her an exit, 
while returning the favor--implying she lied about the degree of 
her friendship.

"Maybe she forgot to mention," she came back, her eyes flashing 
with irritation.

 From the way she said it, I knew she was going to get nasty 
instead of making her exit. She started with, "I'm pretty sure, 
she wouldn't mind if--" while making a move to sit on my lap.

I quickly stood up and cut off her tirade. "Contrary to what you 
might think, I can't allow myself to be the cause of something 
that will end your close friendship with Sarah."

She knew she had lost the round, but she was a spiteful bitch. "I 
didn't figure you for a wimp. Are you that much pussy whipped?"

I wasn't going to reply to her, because I didn't know if she 
would make a scene; a slap or throwing her drink. But, she had 
crossed the line, with her verbal abuse. A quick glance revealed 
her glass was almost empty, so I decided to take the risk.

"Oh, I never said I wasn't a wimp. I gather you don't like wimps. 
What can I say, my loss," I said, giving her a shrug. She wasn't 
expecting that response and I caught her unaware, as I hoped I 
would--setting her up for my parting shot.

As I turned to make my exit, I delivered my parting shot. "Now, 
if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get pussy whipped, by a _real_ 
woman."

And, with that, I quickly walked away, before she could react. My 
plan worked like a charm. As I walked away, I could feel her eyes 
trying to bore holes on my back. I headed for the dining room, 
but saw Kathy and Sarah standing at the kitchen door, smiling, so 
changing my direction, I went to them. From their looks they had 
seen what happened and they wanted to hear the details.

"What did you say to Lizzie, Bro? If looks could kill, I would be 
attending your funeral right now."

"She was getting brazen, so I put her down. That's all."

Addressing Sarah, I teased, "I thought you promised protection."

"From the looks of it, you're doing just fine, Mitch," she 
laughed.

"Easy for you to say. I was sweating bullets there," I joked, but 
I was still apprehensive, because I didn't know if Lizzie would 
let it go. Some women could get vicious.

Seeing me concerned, Sarah put me at ease. "Don't worry, Mitch. 
Lizzie can be brazen and nasty, but she wouldn't create a scene 
that would tarnish her image. She doesn't like being gossip 
fodder."

Moving in, she plastered herself to my body. "Besides, I'll keep 
you company. I enjoyed my seat."

I stole a look at Kathy to see how she was taking the 
developments, but she didn't seem to be bothered by Sarah's 
attentions or my reaction to her. I guessed Sarah must have 
calmed her down.

We heard the door bell ring. "Kathy, can you get the door?" Sarah 
asked.

When Kathy left us, she disengaged and hooked her arm in mine. 
She took us back to the living room.

"I think that's Mark, Kathy's boyfriend," she said with a 
conspiratorial tone.

She steered us to a spot with a view of the hall and the door, 
where we could see who had arrived. I saw Kathy wrapped in the 
arms of a tall guy with dark brown hair, sharing a long, hot 
kiss. Kathy was hanging on his neck, her body plastered to his, 
writhing in his arms. They surfaced from the kiss panting, but 
too worked up to quit. As I expected, they went at it again, but 
this time with soft, tender, short kisses, trying to cool off.

"They look hot, don't you think?" Sarah said.

When I looked at her, I could see she was worked up by the scene. 
Just like Kathy had described, her nostrils were flaring with 
each breath, her face was flushed, and her nipples were prominent 
under the thin sweater. Seeing me giving her an appraising look, 
she said, "I told you I was a horny thing and I haven't changed 
much."

"If they've got you this much worked up..."

"Your sister is a hot woman, too, don't you think?" she responded 
with a lecherous grin.

"Thank you for the reminder, Sarah," I retorted, feeling 
uncomfortable. "I could have done without it. I know she's a 
woman and she's beautiful. But, I rather don't think about 
something like that. Especially how hot my sister is. I'm still 
her brother."

She laughed at my discomfort. "You know, the two of you are 
unusual siblings. You're very close, without being possessive. 
She's lucky to have a brother like you."

"Well, she might be, but I'm not sure I would say the same thing 
about her," I replied with a snort.

"She drives you up the walls, doesn't she?"

"That, she does. So, tell me. What's her guy like?"

"Being brotherly?" she asked with a laugh.

When I nodded, she said, "I think you'll like him. He's quiet, 
has a good sense of humor, and he's crazy about Kathy. Well, both 
of them are crazy about each other. I'm surprised they haven't 
gotten married, yet. By the way, don't be surprised to see a 
different Kathy."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you'll see. She's different when Mark's around. She becomes 
a little kitten."

"Really? So she's saving her claws for me? Now, I'm jealous!"

"Don't be. Kathy drives him up the walls, too, just not so 
frequently. You know she has a sharp mind. Mark's no slouch 
either and he's patient. They're a pair, I tell you."

"Thank you, Sarah," I responded with a soft but genuine tone of 
gratitude.

"For what?" she asked, perhaps a bit surprised at my tone.

"For telling me all that. You're her best friend, and know her 
well. I haven't been around lately, and I never nosed into her 
life. But, I worry about her happiness."

"Ah, Mitch. I love her like a sister. She's happy. They're happy. 
Don't worry about her. Come, they're finished getting 
acquainted."

Putting his arm around Kathy's shoulder, Mark guided them into 
the living room, while Sarah steered us to them. Kathy made the 
introductions. He was slightly taller than me, about an inch or 
so, with a good build and wide shoulders. He had a firm hand 
shake, a friendly smile, and a calm, confident countenance. Even 
though some first encounters would feel awkward, especially when 
they involved boyfriends or girlfriends of siblings, I warmed to 
him immediately. He was older than me, but I looked older than 
him and Kathy made a few quips about how hard she had been on me, 
causing premature aging. Then, she asked him if he was still 
willing to take the risk and marry her, knowing what might happen 
to him. He smoothly replied, he had no problems about aging, as 
long as she was willing to join him until they both got wrinkles, 
then he burned her with a soft kiss. He seemed to be the genuine 
article, and I found myself liking the guy more and more, by the 
way he treated Kathy, and how Kathy responded to him. I also knew 
Kathy didn't give her heart easily, and I was confident that I 
could like any man who passed her muster.

"Get a room, guys," Sarah quipped.

Kathy came back with, "Thank you, Sarah. You're such a good 
friend. Where's your bedroom?" making everybody laugh.

Sarah was right, Kathy was acting different. Mark and I went to 
pick up drinks for the girls, getting acquainted with each other, 
then we mingled. Sarah made her rounds among the guests but she 
kept her forays short, trying to keep me company as much as 
possible. The party was going strong, small groups forming and 
breaking, but there was an air of expectancy among the guests--
Sarah's recital. She must have felt it also, because when she 
joined Kathy, Mark and me, she said, "I think it's time to liven 
up this party."

"OK. We'll get things going while you get your guitar," Kathy 
offered.

While Sarah went to pick up her guitar, Kathy recruited our help 
in informing the guests that the recital would be starting 
shortly.



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 14: Fair Play



Sarah came back with her guitar and pulled up a chair, facing the 
guests. I moved to a spot facing her and sat on the floor, 
crossing my legs. One by one, the guests found seats, some on the 
carpeted floor like me, and some on the chairs and couches. Mark 
was on a couch, with Kathy on his lap cuddling with him. She had 
her arm around his neck, her head resting on his shoulder. She 
really looked like a little cat; her 5'7" frame a warm and loving 
bundle in Mark's protective embrace. He was gently caressing her 
back as they exchanged loving looks, lost in their own world. It 
was apparent that both of them had missed each other and both 
looked happy and content.

_Good for you, Sis._

After tuning the strings, Sarah was ready. She gave a small smile 
to me and started singing. Man, was she good! I had forgotten how 
pure her voice was. I wasn't the only one feeling like that. For 
half an hour, she enthralled everybody with the clarity of her 
voice and her handling of the guitar, before taking a short 
break. Even though the guests were all friends and acquaintances, 
the applause and cheering were genuine. Once again, I couldn't 
help but wonder why she never turned professional. During the 
break, I asked her about it.

"I owe your sister big time, Mitch. My parents tried to tell me, 
but I wouldn't listen. Kathy, however, convinced me to continue 
my studies. I was too young. If I had turned professional at the 
time, I would have botched it up. Now, I really enjoy med school 
and I want to finish it first. After that I might reconsider, 
maybe as a part-time thing. I really want to be a doctor. Music 
is fun, but I'm not sure if it would continue to be fun if I 
turned professional," she said.

After the break, she did the last part of her recital. The songs 
were a collection of various genres: ballads, country, pop, rock-
-from various singers and bands like Joan Baez, Anne Murray, John 
Denver, Kenny Rogers, Randy Crawford, Neil Young, Leonard Cohen, 
Scorpions, and many others.

While Sarah was singing _Almaz_, an old song from Randy Crawford, 
I noticed she was keeping her eyes on Mark and Kathy. She had a 
look of adoration in her eyes. Curious, I turned to see what was 
going on. I saw Mark brushing tears from Kathy's eyes, and kiss 
her forehead and top of her head a few times. For a moment I 
wondered what was wrong, before I realized Kathy was just being 
emotional. When the song was ending, Kathy raised her head and 
they shared a long, sensual kiss.

After Kathy, it was my turn, but I didn't know it. Towards the 
end of her recital, Sarah sang _Lady in Red_, the only Chris de 
Burgh song in her repertoire. I was lost in her voice, feeling 
very relaxed. When she started singing that piece, I couldn't 
resist the pull of the memories and instead of fighting them, I 
let them take me on a short journey. It wasn't an uneasy 
experience, as it had been a year ago with Pops at the rig. This 
time, it was a remembrance of happier moments. But, melancholy 
and longing were still mixed with it.

Sarah sang a couple more songs before ending her recital, and I 
went to the dining room in search of something strong. I had 
enjoyed the recital, but I wanted to get a bit of a buzz. 
Locating a bottle of vodka, I filled up a glass mixing it with 
orange juice. Then I went to the kitchen to get some ice. Sarah 
found me in the kitchen busy filling the empty ice maker. I 
returned the ice maker to the freezer and stirred the ice cubes 
in my glass before taking a sip. It was strong, but that was what 
I needed after the short trip down memory lane.

"You know, I forgot to ask what your favorite song was, before 
the recital," she said.

When my eyes returned to her face from the glass of vodka, I saw 
her eyes were searching my face.

"Sarah, it was great. I enjoyed your selection. But more than 
that, I enjoyed your singing."

"Why were you--" she stopped, as if changing her mind at the last 
minute, and switched to something else. "You saw Kathy and Mark, 
when I was singing _Almaz_?"

She had a quizzical look in her eyes and I wondered what she was 
planning to ask. "Sarah, what was it you wanted to know?"

"Nothing," she replied, quickly. "You saw Kathy and Mark..."

"Yeah, I saw them." I was still wondering what was running in her 
mind, what she had been planning to ask. "Sarah, I can see you 
have something in your mind, and I got the feeling you wanted to 
ask something. Are we not friends?"

With a resigned sigh, she said, "It's... I just thought you 
reacted to one of the songs, but I wasn't sure if you liked it or 
hated it."

"I told you I loved your selection, Sarah," I replied, with a 
reassuring smile.

"I didn't want to pry," she said. Her voice was soft, but colored 
with something I couldn't identify. She reached and caressed my 
cheek, making me close my eyes, and give in to her gentle touch. 
I opened my eyes, and took hold of her hand, kissing her palm, 
getting a fond smile.

"Was it their song?" I asked.

"Kathy's favorite, but Mark loves it also. Sometimes, your sister 
can get pretty emotional," she answered with an emotional timber 
in her voice.

"Yeah, I noticed. Mark seems to take good care of her."

Her face lit up with joy, and she said, "Yes, he does." It was 
easy to see she was happy for Kathy, reminding me how close they 
were. Moving in, she pulled me for a kiss, rubbing her body to 
mine. "Mitch, may I..." she started, but collecting herself she 
stopped herself before asking what she wanted to ask.

I raised an eyebrow, questioning.

She hesitantly asked, "May I take care of you, tonight?"

She was having an effect on me, and I had not forgotten her 
earlier remarks. I still remembered how I had lusted after her 
when I was young. Grown up, she was really something. I was 
starting something (perhaps a relationship) with Dana, and I 
loved her, but I found myself lusting after Sarah. I was hungry 
for the physical contact as much as love. What's more, I didn't 
want to be bothered by the past. Not tonight. I wanted to free 
myself from the melancholy that I felt a while ago. I examined my 
feelings. I wanted Sarah. It was going to be casual. No different 
than other times with other girls, although I had known Sarah 
much longer. But Dana bothered me. I wasn't in a committed 
relationship with her, yet, but we were planning to get to know 
each other. Was it wrong to have some fun with Sarah? Was it 
cheating?

Sarah broke in to my thoughts. "You know, Kathy wants to take 
Mark to her place. Mark could take her to a hotel, but Kathy 
doesn't care for hotel rooms."

"So, you're suggesting, I should spend the night here? To help 
them out?" I asked, with a chuckle.

"What a swell idea," Sarah responded with a smile, but it was a 
measured smile, as if she was scared of going too far.

"You're _wicked_, you know that," I said, with a smile.

"I'm not wicked. I'm practical and horny. And I'm trying to help 
out," she responded. I could feel her lust, and she was trying to 
keep herself under control.

"You mean, help yourself?" I laughed, trying to put her at ease.

Seeing me laugh, she relaxed considerably, and retorted, "Well, 
it's not only me. I'm helping out you, Kathy and Mark as well."

Working her hand down to my crotch, rubbing my cock, she pulled 
me down for a kiss. I found myself responding to her attentions, 
kissing her back and rubbing my free hand on her side, massaging 
the outer swell of her tit. I was hard under her expert 
ministrations, and made up my mind. I liked her and lusted after 
her as a teenage boy. I was curious how she looked under her 
clothes. I wanted to know how her body would feel under mine. As 
she had said, here was a chance to live out a teenage fantasy.

When the kiss was over, I said, "You know, I'm a great believer 
in fair play."

When she heard that, her nostrils flared, and for a moment I 
thought she was going to have a go at me right there in the 
kitchen. She was steaming. She took a few deep breaths, trying to 
calm herself, then gave me a short kiss, her hand still busy 
rubbing my cock, over my jeans. Pulling back, she took my glass 
and put it aside.

"I don't want you drunk, Mitch. I never thought I would get the 
chance to live out my fantasies, and I don't want to miss out. Do 
you mind?"

Pulling her in, I pressed her body to my chest, trying to feel 
her tits. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Sarah. I've lusted 
after you for a long time, too."

"Good. I hope I can hold out until the party is over."

"You waited longer than that Sarah. How difficult will it be to 
wait a few hours?"

"Very difficult, Mitch. It's always remained a fantasy. Now, it's 
a reality. God, I need to change. My panties are soaked," she 
replied, her breathing getting heavy.

"Do you need a hand?" I teased her mercilessly.

"In fact I do. I need to put in a tampon to keep my panties dry. 
You can help me with that. After all, you've seen how it's done," 
she retorted with a snort.

"You sure it's only a tampon you have in mind?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I want to save the other for later. It will be 
difficult but worth the wait."

Putting my arm around her waist, I said, "OK, lead the way."

"Lead the way?" she asked confused.

"Well, I don't want you to soak your panties."

"You serious?" she asked, surprised I would go ahead with what 
started as a teasing quip.

"Sure, Sarah. We can even use the bathroom to enact the whole 
episode. Do you really need to change your panties?"

"Oh, my God! I didn't, but now, I need to," she said, giggling 
like a school girl.

"We better use your bedroom. It will be more comfortable and 
private."

She led us through the living room to the short hallway. Her room 
was at the end of the corridor and there was a bathroom halfway. 
Before we passed the bathroom, the door opened and Kathy emerged. 
Seeing us headed in the direction of the bedroom, she gave a 
questioning look.

"I need to give a hand to Sarah with something. We'll catch you 
in a few minutes," I replied.

She almost bought my explanation, that is, until she caught sight 
of Sarah. Well, Kathy knew Sarah too well not to notice Sarah was 
on fire and we were up to something, and she didn't need a 
crystal ball to guess what that something might be. She raised 
her eyebrow, questioning, but I shook my head 'no, it's not what 
you think' manner.

I didn't think she bought it, but she replied, "OK, I'll see you 
later."

I caught her exchanging a brief look with Sarah, before she 
turned and headed for the living room. When we were inside 
Sarah's bedroom, she closed and locked the door.

"What was that, Sarah?" I asked.

"What was what?"

"The brief exchange between you and Kathy."

"It's nothing, Mitch."

"Come on, Sarah."

With resigned sigh, she moved in to caress my cheek, and put me 
at ease. Then she said, "Your sister loves both of us and she's 
trying to protect us. When I was talking with her, I told her 
about my teenage lust for you. She was concerned that I would get 
hurt, or that your current relationship might be affected. Mitch, 
I know you don't like it if Kathy interferes with your private 
life, but this isn't really interference. Please don't get angry 
with her, OK? She's a dear girl and she can't help herself 
sometimes. And you know she loves you very much. I don't have any 
siblings, but Kathy had been better than a sister. You know 
sisters are allowed a bit of latitude."

"She has lots of latitude," I replied, with a resigned sigh.

"Yes, you've given her lots of latitude, but she tries hard not 
to take advantage of that."

I nodded. Then something else occurred to my mind. "I'm not going 
to be the subject of your girl-to-girl talks, am I?" I asked.

"I'm generous with my grades, don't worry!" she teased.

"I wonder why that doesn't reduce my performance anxiety," I 
retorted.

"You think too much, Mitch. We'll have a great time. We lusted 
after each other too long. I don't think either of us is going to 
have any performance anxiety," she replied and pulled me in for a 
kiss.

Disengaging, she went to her wardrobe and got a clean panty and a 
small towel from a drawer. Rummaging in her dresser drawer, she 
took a tampon, then spread the small towel on the edge of the 
bed.

"It will be easier to put the tampon in if I lay down. I'm 
soaking wet and I don't want to leak on the comforter."

I moved her close to the edge of the bed, and took off her belt. 
Then I started undoing the buttons on her jeans. I could feel her 
excitement. Her breath was coming fast, in short gasps, heavy 
with arousal. After unbuttoning the last button, I knelt in front 
of her and asked her to hold onto my shoulders for support, 
before gently grabbing her ankles to remove her shoes one by one. 
She had shapely feet, with dainty toes. Taking hold of the 
waistband of her jeans, I pulled them down, as slowly as 
possible, teasing us both. I could smell her womanly scent. When 
the jeans cleared the crotch of her panties, I saw they were 
translucent from the wetness. She wasn't kidding when she said 
she was soaked. Once the jeans were on her ankles, I helped her 
out of them, and put them to the side, next to her shoes. When my 
gaze returned to her center, I could hear her breath catch with 
expectation. Leaning forward, I inhaled her heady fragrance. Her 
inner thighs were wet with her seeping juices.

Taking hold of her panties, I pulled them down with the same 
teasing slowness. I watched carefully the unveiling of her pussy. 
She had pale yellow pubic hair on top of her mons, neatly shaved 
in a triangle. Her clitoris was already out of its protective 
hood, and looked large. There was no hair to be seen around her 
vagina or the lips. I pulled the panties to her ankles and she 
stepped out of them. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, but 
I gently cupped her ass cheeks, stopping her from sitting on the 
towel. Moving my hands to her legs, I nudged her to spread her 
legs. Taking the towel, I wiped her juices from her thighs. 
Putting the clean side of the towel on the bed, I took a closer 
look at her vagina. Her labia were thin, but swollen. I traced 
the outside of the lips with my finger, feeling for any signs of 
stubble, but found them to be baby smooth. It was obvious that 
she had shaved recently. I didn't have to wonder if she was 
hoping to get lucky. I knew she was watching me, so I looked 
around as if searching for something, then looked up at her.

"Looking for something?" she asked, her voice throaty, coming out 
as if she had difficulty talking.

"Yeah. I don't think the tampon will help much. We need to get 
the excess juices. Do you have something like a... vacuum 
cleaner?" I asked with a serious expression. She was so gone, it 
took a moment for my question to sink in. Before she could 
respond, I said, "No? Well, OK! Then I'll have to improvise."

With that I grabbed her ass cheeks firmly to keep her stationary 
and, leaning in, I quickly stabbed my tongue between the folds of 
her labia, giving a slow lick from bottom to top. She gave a 
small scream of surprise and stumbled back, but I caught her. As 
my tongue made its way towards the top of her vagina, I felt her 
leaking more juice, wetting my beard, so I returned to the bottom 
and dug my tongue deeper to collect them, making her moan. Her 
channel was flooded with her oils. She was not only a horny 
thing, but a very wet one. I locked my lips around her labia, 
while my tongue got busy in her channel. I wasn't going for 
finesse. I was trying to get her juice. My beard and moustache 
got soaked very quickly.

"Mmmm. You're delicious, Sarah."

My efforts were having an effect on her and I felt her legs 
shake. She was desperately trying to stay on her feet, holding on 
to my shoulders to keep her balance, even though I was supporting 
her with my hands on her ass cheeks. I ceased my efforts and 
stood up. When she felt me standing up, she opened her eyes. I 
could see she was far gone, trying to focus on my face. I gave 
her a soft kiss, letting her taste herself. As our kiss 
continued, she started shaking like a leaf and I was surprised by 
the intensity of her arousal. Her lust and need was palpable, 
running through her body like a forest fire, unstoppable.

Breaking the kiss, I softly said, "Sarah, baby. Calm down."

It took me several tries, before I could get her attention.

"Easy, baby. Take deep breaths... Yes... like that... one more 
time... yes..."

I realized, this little re-enactment of the embarrassing 
encounter from years ago had opened the flood-gates for all her 
pent up fantasies. She had waited too long, had lusted too much, 
and now, she was getting what she thought she would never 
experience. It had proven too much. I had an extremely horny girl 
in my hands, who was burning up with lust and going crazy with 
her need.

"God, I need you, Mitch. I need you to fuck me... _Now_! I can't 
wait... I'm burning..." she said, almost pleading; her words 
coming in a rush interrupted only by her panting.

I knew I had to get her off at least once if not twice before she 
could gather herself. Breaking the kiss, I gently caressed her 
cheeks to focus her attention on me. She was panting heavily and 
her eyes were unfocused, unseeing. I guided her to the bed and 
laid her down, with her ass on the edge.

"Please, Mitch. I need it," she whimpered.

"I'll take care of you, Sarah. Relax. Don't worry," I replied, 
and gave her a kiss. I kept caressing her face, watching her 
carefully, until she realized she was laying down on the bed, and 
I had her attention.

"Just close your eyes and enjoy, Sarah," I said and moved to a 
kneeling position. Holding her legs up and spreading them, I 
placed them on my shoulder. She was seeping her juices onto the 
towel and her clitoris was distended. Licking her from bottom to 
top, I hit directly on her clitoris with the bottom of my tongue, 
to get her off as fast as possible and take the edge off her 
need. That one touch was enough. She screamed, and I mean, she 
really screamed; the sound echoing from the walls of her room, 
and her hips lurched.

I locked my lips and gently sucked her clitoris, feeling her come 
like a freight train. She gave short, sharp screams, her hips 
shaking and her hands clutching my head, pulling me to her pussy. 
Before her clitoris got too sensitive, I dipped my tongue into 
the folds of her vagina and licked her inner lips, to keep her 
going. Once her orgasm was over, I switched between her labia, 
inner lips, and clitoris, while working a finger into her slick 
channel. I could feel the erratic fluttering from the aftershocks 
of her orgasm. Her channel was flooded with her juices, and I 
knew I could bring her again, while she was still hot. I worked a 
second finger in and stroked them together, while I worked on her 
clitoris. She responded with soft wails that turned into yelps 
and little screams each time I stroked with my fingers. I didn't 
dare try the 'ON' switch, as I was scared of the reaction I might 
get. Instead, I worked her to a second orgasm, stimulating her 
clitoris, while working her channel with my fingers.

A few minutes later, she gave another scream, this time softer, 
and had her second orgasm, wailing like a wounded animal. It 
wasn't as sharp as her first one, but it was a long one. She kept 
wailing and I was getting concerned whether she would breathe. 
Her body was shaking and trembling, her head whipping from side 
to side. Her hips kept lurching against my face, and her thighs 
tried to squeeze me. Then, her wail turned into moans and she 
started to gasp and pant. Her inner muscles kept fluttering and 
pumping her fluids, wetting my fingers and the towel under her 
ass. I brought her down gently, drawing out her pleasure and 
listening to her breathing. Her belly was contracting and I was 
sure she would feel sore from all that workout.

When it was over, I used the end of the towel to wipe my hand and 
chin, then went about cleaning her juices from her thighs and 
pussy. The part of the towel under her ass cheeks was soaking wet 
with her juices and I was sure the comforter had a stain. She had 
lost a lot of body fluids. That done, I sat next to her and 
caressed her face, watching her carefully. Her hair was tousled, 
but because it was cut short in an easy to keep style, it wasn't 
messed too badly. She had a fine sheen of sweat from all the 
thrashing she had done during her orgasms and her make up needed 
refreshing. Her skin had a pleasant glow. When she finally opened 
her eyes, they were soft and relaxed but, instead of the lethargy 
of an orgasm, her gray eyes were shining with a strange hue. The 
arousal was still there. I could see she would be ready to go a 
few more times in a short while, but the edge was off; her 
burning need temporarily satiated.

"Sarah, baby. Rest a moment and I'll get you something to drink, 
OK?"

She closed her eyes to indicate her understanding.

I left her room, making a stop at the bathroom to wash my hands 
and face. Picking up a fresh towel and filling the cup I found in 
front of the mirror, I returned to Sarah's bedroom. The water 
helped with her thirst. I used the towel to clean her up more.

"How are you feeling, Sarah?"

"God, Mitch. I've never felt this kind of need before. I thought 
I was going to die. I was burning up. I scared you, didn't I?"

"Yes, for a while. I didn't expect such a reaction, but I 
understand. You must have fantasized about it a long time. All 
the built-up emotions inside... had to come out."

"I did fantasize a lot! I told you I lusted after you, but I 
didn't expect it would be like this. I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Sarah. We still have the whole night."

"You're not scared to continue?"

"Why should I be scared?"

"I don't want you to take my reaction wrong, Mitch. I love you, 
as a friend and a bed partner. Do you understand?"

"I understand, Sarah. We've been friends since childhood and we 
lusted after each other. We just didn't know what to do about it 
then. Now, we do. You still have a lot in your system and you 
need to get it out," I replied.

She smiled at that. "Yeah. You're right. I didn't know how much, 
until a while ago. How about you?"

"I have some pent up lust as well, but I can wait. Not many 
people get to realize a childhood or teenage fantasy. In that 
respect, we're lucky. Now, we need to get you ready. We've taken 
longer than we planned and I'm afraid you've been pretty vocal."

"Really?"

I nodded.

"Screw that. This is my house. I got my bells rung and I'm not 
going to apologize for it. Especially for something that I never 
thought I would ever have," she replied, with an uncompromising 
tone. I could see she wasn't concerned or bashful about what 
people might have heard, or any gossiping.

"Still, you might want to brush your hair and refresh your 
makeup."

"OK. But first, I want you to put the tampon in."

"You sure you can handle that?"

"Yes, Mitch. I can handle that. You took the edge off."

I got off the bed and kneeling in front of her spread legs, I put 
the tampon in, taking care not to hurt her. I could see she was 
already juicing up when I was busy with the tampon. After the 
delicate operation was over, she got off the bed. Then she picked 
the wet towel. As I expected, on the comforter, there was a wet 
spot. When she saw it, she chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. 
"I guess I'll have to take it to the cleaners, but it was worth 
it."

She put on the new panties and then her jeans. Sitting in front 
of her dresser, she cleaned up all her make up, but didn't put on 
new make-up, going for a natural look. She didn't need to. She 
had the freshly fucked look and was going to flaunt it. After 
brushing her hair, she was ready. Before leaving the room, we 
shared a gentle kiss.

"You washed up?" she asked.

"Wouldn't do to go out smelling like that, would it?"

"No, but it could help you keep the sharks away," she teased.

"I don't think I need any shark repellant, anymore. Not after 
your public announcement," I quipped back.

Laughing, she said, "Well, they can eat their hearts out."

"I don't want to sound arrogant, but some may, when they take a 
look at you. You positively glow. You're going to flaunt it, 
aren't you?"

"What can I say, I feel absolutely wicked. Why not add insult to 
injury?" she quipped with an impish grin.

Putting her arm around my waist, she said, "Let's go. I'm dying 
of thirst."



* * * * *



Back in the living room, Kathy saw us. From the smile on her 
face, it was apparent she had not missed what happened. I would 
have been surprised if anybody had. Sarah led us to the kitchen 
to get a glass of water. A few minutes later, Kathy joined us.

_Why did I think she would not?_

She didn't beat around the bush and went directly to the point. 
"Are you staying here?"

"Yes. Sarah asked me to help with the clean up after the party 
and we want to catch up on old times," I replied without skipping 
a beat, before I realized I had said the wrong thing.

"Catch up on old times? I thought you already did that?" she 
quipped.

"Well, we still have some more catching up to do," Sarah said.

I added pointedly, "We also thought you and Mark would like to 
have some quiet time at your place."

"Thank you," she replied, her tone softer, without a trace of 
teasing. "You guys want to join us for a late brunch, tomorrow?" 
she asked.

I looked at Sarah to see what she wanted to do.

"Sure, Kathy. Can we make it a bit later than usual, say two or 
three o'clock?" Sarah replied.

Hearing that, Kathy laughed at Sarah. Then with a knowing look, 
she quipped, "No problem, Sarah. Just don't kill him. He's the 
only brother I've got."

"I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't, Kathy," Sarah came back.

"If you excuse me ladies, I think I'll join Mark. I don't think I 
want to hear anything further."

I must have been brain-dead--'probably I imbibed too much pussy 
juice' I thought--as I realized I had repeated my mistake a 
second time. It was not only the wrong thing to say, but was also 
like waving a red flag to a bull; an invitation.

"Yeah, you do that. We'll join you later. We have to catch up on 
things," Kathy came back, stopping me dead on my tracks.

When I looked at Sarah, she had an unabashed smile on her face, 
enjoying my discomfort and Kathy's incessant teasing.

"I changed my mind," I said, hoping they would not talk about 
some things in my presence--Yeah, call me stupid! I know I can be 
a dumb ass!

"OK, keep us company then," Kathy said casually, with a shrug. 
Without skipping a beat, she turned to Sarah, and asked, "So, how 
was he?"

_Would somebody kick me in the ass? Please? Better yet, can 
somebody lend me some brains?_

I didn't know who was using my mouth, but it sure wasn't me--I 
wouldn't be that stupid, would I?

As I stood there, shocked at her gall, Sarah replied, "Very good, 
Kathy. You wouldn't believe it."

"Oh, I think I would. I heard you. Loud and clear," Kathy 
responded.

Their tone was casual as if they were having a conversation about 
a movie or something. The only thing that was out of place was 
the smile they both had, knowing the effect they were having on 
me.

"That doesn't do justice to how it felt, Kathy. It was much 
better than that," Sarah continued.

My stubborn side kicked in. I wasn't going to give them the 
satisfaction of being run off the kitchen, so I gathered myself 
and assumed a nonchalant stance. I was also curious how far they 
would take it.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure, Sarah. The conversation almost came 
to a stop, when we heard you," Kathy piped up.

At that, Sarah colored a bit and gave a questioning look to Kathy 
to see if this was part of the joke they were having at my 
expense or if she was being serious, but Kathy was not giving 
anything away. I took heart at that development, and was sure 
that Kathy's comment would put a stop to the charade.

Composing herself, Sarah forged on. "I disagree, Kathy. Nothing I 
could say can compare to how good it was."

Not wanting to stop the joke early, Kathy relented. "Hmmm. I 
guess I have to take your word for it. Tell me, what happened?"

Getting back into the swing of things, Sarah continued. "Well, he 
took off my belt. Then he unbuttoned my jeans. After helping me 
off with my shoes, he slowly pulled my jeans down. Once he had 
them off, he took hold of the waistband of my panties. He could 
see I was soaking wet. Oh, that reminds me... I'm forgetting what 
brought the whole thing on in the first place." At that Sarah 
gave a meaningful look to Kathy.

Taking the hint, Kathy responded, "Yeah, tell it from the 
beginning. I don't want to miss the story."

"Well, he agreed to spend the night here. I was pretty worked up 
by then, so I told him I needed a change of underwear. He 
reminded me that we could enact a teenage memory." With that, 
Sarah took a dramatic pause.

Of course, Kathy didn't miss the signal and asked, "Teenage 
memory? I don't remember you telling me about a teenage memory 
involving Mitch."

"No, I didn't tell you. It had been pretty embarrassing, but 
since it was long ago, now I can. After all, that's what started 
this whole episode."

_Nooo! They aren't going to stop._

_Of course, not, you ding-dong! What were you thinking? Were you 
thinking at all?_

I wasn't really embarrassed, but I felt awkward. Not only that, 
but I wasn't sure how much detail Sarah was going to get into. If 
I had learned something about women, but especially about Kathy 
and Sarah, it was obvious they were going to get pretty explicit. 
After all, they had known each other too long and shared too 
much. I had a growing suspicion they shared more than some 
sisters did. I gave a pleading look to Sarah, who returned it 
with a teasing smile.

"Excuse me just a moment, Kathy," she said, before moving to 
stand in front of me.

Wrapping her arms around my neck, she pulled me for a kiss. 
"Mitch, if you haven't realized it yet, Kathy is simmering. We 
usually get each other worked up. This isn't the first time. You 
know how women can get. I want to see steam come out of her 
ears," she whispered.

"I knew this was going to come back to bite me in the ass. It 
didn't when we were teens, and now..." I whispered back.

"Well, it was long overdue, Mitch," she retorted with amusement.

"Darn, Sarah. She's my sister. Can't I have some dignity?"

"Come on, relax. It's all in good fun. Nothing will happen to 
your dignity. We'll have a great time tonight and so will Kathy, 
once she leaves with Mark," she whispered with a wicked grin.

Why did I think they would not talk about it? Women were worse 
than men, when it came to such matters. Kissing her I said, 
"Don't be generous about the details," even though I knew she 
would be.

When Sarah released her hold on my neck, I took a look at Kathy. 
She was watching us with interest, but I could see she wasn't 
concerned about my decision. Rather, she was curious about the 
story from the past. I could see she was also getting slightly 
worked up. Mark was going to get very lucky, if Sarah could pull 
off what she was planning to do. From what I had seen of Mark and 
Kathy, I knew it was a foregone conclusion, but now, it was easy 
to see my sister in a different light; a young, beautiful woman, 
very much in love, and simmering. When Sarah had commented 
earlier on how hot a woman my sister was, I had felt a bit 
uncomfortable, mostly because I didn't want to think about her or 
look at her as a woman. My brotherly instincts had always been 
too strong and too strict. Of course I loved my sister, but as a 
brother. Now, with her merciless teasing, and apparent interest 
in what Sarah and I had done a while ago, I realized she was 
acting like a woman rather than a sister.

"Since you're not in a hurry to keep company with Mark, I better 
tell him he's going to wait," I said, trying get at her, to even 
the score somewhat.

She took it in stride. "I'll make it up to him later," she 
retorted with a snicker, and quickly followed it with, "Sarah 
will make it up to you as well."

Losing my composure, I replied, "Kathy, the way you talk 
sometimes--"

"Don't spoil the fun, Mitch. You're my brother and Sarah is my 
best friend. We've known each other since childhood. Mark is my 
lover, and I don't hide it. I didn't get to know much about the 
girls you've dated. I missed out on the sister's privileges. Now, 
I can get to hear what a stud my brother is."

Except as teenagers, we never teased each other or talked about 
sex or our relationships. What's more, we had been very close. On 
the other hand, in the last few years, I had been distant, a 
closed box. I realized Kathy had always been the one to try to 
bridge the distance. I guessed her interest and curiosity was 
partly fueled by her desire to hear something juicy from Sarah, 
and partly to know something about her brother.

"I give up," I said and left the kitchen, muttering, "Women!"

"You can't live with them; you can't live without them," they 
chorused behind my back, laughing.

I needed a drink, and Sarah had confiscated my glass of vodka in 
the kitchen. In the dining room, looking over the choices, I 
settled for a glass of beer. I didn't want to disappoint Sarah, 
although there wasn't much of a chance of that, remembering how 
quickly she got off. Back in the living room, I found Mark going 
over the CDs. After making a few selections, he went over them 
one more time to chose one, and put it in the player. When I 
heard the song I wanted to plug my ears, hit my head to the 
walls.

_Why isn't there an off-switch?_

I felt like downing a stiff drink, but it wasn't something I 
resorted to very frequently when old memories awakened; triggered 
by a melody, or a phrase I had heard, or a scene in a movie I had 
watched. I didn't use sleeping pills when I couldn't sleep. Yes, 
I had gotten drunk, on rare occasions, but usually among friends, 
or to blow off some steam after work hours (as it had happened 
with Pops), and mostly for recreational purposes and not as a 
solution to my problems. I had just gotten over the song Sarah 
sang, and now Neil Diamond was singing _September Morn_; another 
song from the past, perhaps not as memorable as _Lady in Red_, 
but almost there. And, it was pulling me on a journey I wasn't 
willing to go on.



 . . . .



It was mid-summer... the beginning of _my summer_... and the 
end... the summer when my heart was broken and handed back to me.

I had finished six weeks of grueling work in the desert--the last 
industrial practice I had had as part of the college program at 
the end of my junior year--and was back at home; tired from the 
work, the stress, and deeply tanned from working on the rig. I 
was looking forward to eight or nine weeks of vacation at our 
summer flat by the beach, before the fall semester of my senior 
year started. My parents decided to join me later. Kathy was busy 
with something else, and she stayed with them, thus giving me the 
opportunity to have some quiet time by myself at our flat.

The morning I arrived at our summer flat, I spent most of the day 
opening the house, cleaning it and getting it ready. By mid-
afternoon, I was at the beach taking my afternoon run along the 
coast that stretched for more than twenty miles. It was a ritual 
I had rarely let go when I was here, at my beach. Back in my 
hometown, I didn't care much about jogging or running and had to 
force myself. (These last several years, on the rig-site, I 
rarely ran; the work was hard enough, and on rare occasions when 
I could find some free time in the afternoon, Tai Chi exercises 
offered some relaxation). But on this beach, I loved to run. 
There were also a few secluded spots where I could practice Tai 
Chi while facing the sea and smelling the salty sea air. 
Sometimes I did my practice in the sea, when it was calm (usually 
very early in the morning), belly deep in the cold water. Some 
combinations were not possible, especially when I tried to do 
them as slowly as possible, so I used a different variation of 
the forms.

That first evening, while I was thinking trying to decide whether 
to cook or go to town to grab a bite, Gillian dropped by and 
invited me to dinner with her parents. My parents had met 
Gillian's parents when they were buying the flat. It had been a 
chance encounter at the real estate agent's office, both families 
realizing they were going to be neighbors at the vacation spot. 
When we moved into our flat, the two families had quickly become 
good friends, and continued visiting each other back in town when 
we returned from vacation as the friendship between them grew.

Gil was a year younger than Kathy, but you couldn't tell by 
looking at her. As tall as Kathy, she looked bigger, taking after 
her mother, who was a tall woman with big bones. With curly light 
brown hair that always looked tousled, and brown eyes that were 
alight with liveliness, she was a tomboy, and she and Kathy got 
along great. And for me, she was sort of an impish second sister. 
All of us spent a lot of time together all year around, but we 
had the most fun during the summer vacations with several other 
kids from the neighborhood.

So, that evening, when she invited me for dinner, I didn't 
hesitate to accept it, looking forward to a great time with Gil 
and her parents, who were really very nice people. After dinner, 
I offered to take Gil to a small disco by the beach, even though 
I didn't feel like it. I was feeling pretty tired, but my polite 
side won over my tiredness. Her parents were pleased, and Gil 
asked if she could bring a new friend of hers; a girl from next 
door. I knew there was no way I could get out of it.

When Gillian introduced her to me, I felt something stirring 
inside me, as if I was standing at the edge of an abyss, and 
staring into the eye of a storm brewing, the feeling making me 
uneasy. I caught her brown eyes giving me fleeting looks, and she 
seemed as apprehensive as I was. Before I could collect myself, 
our eyes locked for a brief moment, and I saw the clouds that 
seemed to drift in and out of them. With an effort I tried to 
center myself, surprised at my reaction to this strange girl, but 
I was unable to. My insides were in turmoil, and I turned my 
attention back to Gil, trying to break the spell this girl was 
having on me. However it was a short lived relief. When we shook 
hands the touch was electric; I heard the beat of my heart loud 
in my inner ear, and felt the rush of blood; my skin was tingling 
as if it had caught fire. Our eyes locked again, and I knew I was 
hearing the _Siren's Song_ calling out my name. My heart was 
captured by the mysteries those brown eyes held in their depths. 
When I released her hand, her expression changed to something 
like relief. I didn't understand her reaction at all, but to ease 
any disquiet she might be having, I averted my eyes, taking her 
in. I noticed the goose bumps on her arm, and realized I had 
goose bumps on my arm, too, despite the fact that it was a very 
warm night without any breeze.

That was the beginning... of the end!

In a short span of seven weeks, I experienced every known emotion 
and probably a few unknown, unnamed ones as well. Luckily, my 
parents saw only parts of the whole episode, since they arrived 
quite late. As things got worse, I didn't stick around, but 
headed back home earlier than planned.

It was September, the trees and the streets covered with golden 
flecks, and the Fall Semester looming in two weeks time. It was 
melancholy time, unless I did something about it, so I got busy 
getting ready for my last year at the college. I spent most of 
the nights awake, pecking at the typewriter, writing my report 
(industry training I did at the rig) to be submitted for grading 
by the middle of the Fall Semester. When I got tired from it, the 
memories would come in a flood; the hurt and pain still fresh, 
the 'what ifs' and 'whys' following closely behind. The few hours 
of sleep I managed would be invaded by dreams of her: us in her 
bed as we pleasured each other, feeling that invisible chord that 
bound us tightening around me, taking me home. Those intimate 
moments would be replayed in vivid detail; so much so that I 
would wake up to her touch or her smell, finding myself either 
painfully erect or wilting from an involuntary ejaculation. But 
the worst part had always been the incredible feeling of 
emptiness that settled over me as that special chord got severed 
in that waking moment, and the longing and heartache that 
followed it.

After a week of constant nightmares, I dreaded falling asleep, 
and I started keeping a diary; scribbling the memories and 
whatever else that came visiting, hoping to get rid of them, and 
usually falling asleep with emotional exhaustion when dawn was 
breaking. During those times, I found myself listening to 
_September Morn_ by Neil Diamond that played quite frequently on 
one of the music channels. After a few times of listening to it, 
it had come to symbolize my melancholy, but I had been unable to 
avoid it, hanging to each note, each word, as Neil kept singing. 
Aside from that, the diary didn't help solve the problems. Worse, 
it had become a sort of a reference book, refreshing and 
strengthening the memories, in the end, forcing me to quit 
writing altogether. I knew I couldn't continue that way, and 
since my course load was going to be much lighter than previous 
years, and I didn't want to have too much free time in my hands, 
I lined up a part time job. Over time, as I got busy with school 
and work, the vivid wet dreams and the nightmares became less 
frequent.

_Yeah. I didn't have much free time that year. The job was 
pleasant and I didn't have to interact with people too much. The 
rest of the time, the college kept me busy. But not busy enough. 
That's when I worked out some of the things about her, in little 
parts, as the pain and hurt gave way to emptiness._

By the time I was graduating, I wasn't able to deal with the 
emptiness, and I had filled some of it with anger. It had been 
easy, once I worked out some of the things about her and how I 
had failed us, but mostly how I had failed her. That was when I 
realized I needed to get away. Right after graduation, I signed 
up with a small outfit and got the hell out of town, back to the 
desert. It was a temporary job to fill-in the time until I had to 
go for my military service. Since no other company was willing to 
sign up somebody to let them go in half a year's time, my choices 
were limited. But then, I didn't care much about the money. I 
also knew the company was planning to pull some strings, and 
postpone my military service to get a year or two of work out of 
me; I had heard they had pulled the stunt on some of the students 
I'd known. A little bit of legal wrangling put a stop to their 
little scheme, though. I had no intention of delaying the army or 
anything else that stood as obstacles in front of me. I wanted to 
get over those momentary nuisances, so that I could get on with 
my life, and find something better, if there was something 
better--whatever it was.



 . . . .



Thinking back on those times, I was still surprised, even now, 
how everything worked out as I had planned.

_Yeah, it did, didn't it? Except her, of course. She's still the 
one I think of, whether I admit it or not. Didn't I fail that one 
time?_

_Jeeez! It just takes one stupid song to dredge up a whole lot of 
garbage from the past._

My unease and melancholy didn't last long. It was another tiny 
piece from my past that erased the melancholy.

_The diary. The fucking diary! What did I do with it?_

I was close to panic trying to remember what I did with it. It 
was so long ago that I had forgotten about it. Carefully digging 
into my memory, I found that innocuous little detail. I had it 
packed among my school-books, in a box with my other books, in my 
room.

_Shit. Why didn't I burn it? Why? It could fall into the wrong 
hands._

I was concerned, but not overly so. I wrote in the foreign 
language I had learned in high school. Mom wasn't familiar with 
the language, but Dad and Sis were fluent. I knew Dad wouldn't do 
something like that, but Kathy was a different matter. She could 
easily be tempted, once she recognized what it was and what 
period of my life it contained. If it had been something else, 
Kathy wouldn't snoop like that. But that period, on the other 
hand, was a black hole for her. Like Mom, she was protective of 
me--as I was coming to realize more and more. She would feel 
guilty doing something like that, after the fact, but she would 
also justify her actions (very logically and very rationally, I 
might add).

_First business of the day, tomorrow: 'Search and Destroy!'_

I chuckled silently at my choice of a military term. I had 
learned quite a bit during my short spell in the service, but I 
hadn't really enjoyed my time. What's more, I had ended up doing 
some serious juggling, trying to hide my past and my skills. I 
wasn't a predator, but I had the skills of a predator, and 
soldiering teaches you how to be an efficient predator (as if I 
needed to be more efficient, with the anger tucked inside me), so 
it had been a trying time. I abhorred violence, even though I 
knew I would resort to it if forced to. Pops had me pegged right 
a year ago. At the time, I could have easily resorted to 
violence; the daily exposure to news of random violence 
desensitizing me further and loosening my already weakening 
controls.

I shook my head, trying to physically shake clear the cobwebs of 
past, of history, but it didn't help of course. I focused on 
tonight, and the delights Sarah was promising for both of us, 
which eventually helped to erase the unease that had settled in 
me. I noticed Mark was playing with the equalizer, trying to 
enhance the quality of the sound. A little bit more of twiddling 
with the controls, and he seemed to be satisfied with the 
results. When he stood up, he saw me watching him, and raised an 
eyebrow as he walked to me. I guess he was wondering where the 
girls were.

"They're still in the kitchen," I said.

"Did they run you out?" he asked with a knowing grin.

"Yeah. Something like that," I replied, a bit uncomfortable where 
the conversation might be headed.

"Mitch, we haven't had a chance to get to know each other. You 
don't know me much, but I heard a lot about you from Kathy," he 
said.

I didn't have a response, so I waited for him to continue.

"You know, I love Kathy. Very much so."

"I think it's very obvious that you both love each other," I 
replied, with a small reassuring smile.

He gave me a long look, trying to judge the sincerity of my 
reply. Satisfied with what he saw, he said, "I also know that she 
loves you, very much. I have to tell you, at first, I was 
surprised and almost jealous of her love for you, mistaking it 
for something else," he said pointedly.

I almost turned red by the implication, and angry at the same 
time. But, before I could say anything, he raised his hands 
slightly in an apologetic manner, and continued, "At the time, I 
didn't know what you did for work and where you worked. You may 
not have realized it, but she worries about you, a lot. I suspect 
she doesn't show it around you."

That gave me a pause. In the light of yesterday's talk about the 
past, and how Kathy had kept my childhood struggles secret from 
my parents, Mark's comment made sense. What's more, I heard 
genuine concern for her in his voice.

Seeing the expression on my face, Mark asked, "She doesn't, does 
she?"

"No, she doesn't. At least not much. I guess it's because I 
haven't talked about things with Kathy for quite some time," I 
replied, but my tone made it clear I didn't want to get into what 
we haven't talked about. Kathy had probably mentioned something 
about how distant and closed up I had been in the last few years. 
Mark was, after all, her lover and they were planning to get 
married.

Mark nodded his understanding. "Do you mind if I ask how bad it 
is, where you work? We read a lot on the papers, or see it on 
TV."

"It's bad, but not that bad. The media usually exaggerate. You 
just have to be careful. Plus, it's mostly opportunistic 
targeting. We have pretty good protection where I work. There are 
softer, easier targets. That's why I'm not worried about it too 
much. I'm pretty careful and cautious as well," I replied, trying 
to downplay the situation as much as reasonably possible.

"But you never know what might happen. Wrong time, wrong place," 
he commented.

"You can't avoid everything, Mark. I'm sorry to say that, but you 
have to be there to see and understand how it is. It's not a war 
zone. Yes, there's a clandestine war going on, but... as I said. 
It's not that bad."

Seeing I was getting defensive, he changed tracks. "Well, I think 
Kathy seems to accept or understand it better now. She seems much 
happier than a few weeks ago."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure, but she's not as tense as she used to be, 
especially tonight. Is that something to do with you and Sarah?" 
he asked, then hastily added, "I didn't mean to butt my nose into 
something..."

However, there was an unspoken 'but' at the end of that 
statement, and from his embarrassed smile, he was referring to 
Sarah's vocal escapade with me.

"I don't know. Sarah and I... we're not really an item, but we've 
known each other for a long time."

"I've known Sarah for quite some time now. Well, she's Kathy's 
best friend, and really a nice girl. The two could be sisters." 
Then with a grin, he said, "Both are something. They can drive 
you up the wall."

"Well, Kathy does, since we were kids. She hasn't changed. I 
hadn't seen Sarah for some years, so I didn't know what to 
expect. Kathy told me she changed."

"You kidding?"

"Nope."

"Then I have a word of warning for you. Don't take what I'm going 
to say the wrong way, Mitch. I'm a straight shooter and I'm 
usually very blunt. I don't think you care for sugar coating. I 
really love your sister and respect her. Same with Sarah. 
However, I know Kathy and Sarah can get pretty rowdy at times. 
I've been a victim of their teasing too long."

I nodded.

"Were they teasing you or were they trying to get each other 
worked up?" he asked, in a conspiratorial tone, giving me a small 
grin, but it wasn't lecherous.

I didn't take offense at all, as there was a feeling of man-to-
man confidence, perhaps the beginnings of brothers-in-law 
relationship in regards to Kathy.

"Both," I replied, returning his grin. "I really didn't expect 
something like that, from them. We were close as siblings, and 
still close, but... You know what I mean."

"Yeah. I know what you mean. Your sister is a real gem and she's 
a handful, but that's what I like about her."

"Do you mind if I ask why you guys decided to wait?"

"Your sister wanted to finish her specialization. If it were up 
to me, we would have been married. But I understand her reasons. 
I guess I was scared somebody else would grab her in the 
meantime. However, it worked out for the best. I do a lot of 
traveling and it wouldn't have been nice being away from home for 
too long when we're newly married. Just between the two of us, 
I'm making some arrangements to improve the situation."

"What kind of arrangements?"

"I have the major accounts in this city with almost all the 
hospitals and a few of the private clinics. I had been making 
good money from the sales and commissions, so I managed to put 
aside a tidy sum, which will come handy when we get married. But 
most important, I finally convinced my boss we should set up a 
small office here to give after-sales service to our major 
clients. We have enough work to justify the costs, and we'll 
probably get more clients if we have a presence here. There are 
quite a number of smaller clinics and other private 
establishments. By profession I'm an engineer, and I can run the 
service side as well as sales. That would also mean I wouldn't 
have to be on the road all the time, perhaps once a month to the 
head office to wrap up projects and report."

"You're planning... to settle here?"

"Yes. Your sister is a very good doctor and she's made quite a 
reputation. As soon as she finishes her specialization she'll be 
offered a position. I know she likes that hospital and most of 
her friends are here. I don't want her to have to start over 
someplace else, where she has to prove herself. It's not that she 
couldn't do it, but it would be a waste of time. She had invested 
a great deal in that hospital and she deserves to reap the fruits 
of her efforts. Since I can settle here, it's the most logical 
solution. Neither of us is going to be giving up something."

"She doesn't know anything about this, does she?"

"No, she doesn't. It's going to be a surprise. She'll probably 
figure it out though."

"Why do you say that?"

"I would be spending more time here, setting up an office, and 
hiring staff. It will be hard to hide it from your sister. Don't 
you think?" He grinned.

"Heh. Understatement of the year, Mark. You better come clean 
before she figures it out or you'll not hear the end of it," I 
replied with a laugh.

"That's what I figured, too. I'm just trying to tie up the few 
loose ends and get an approval for my formal proposal. I don't 
think it will take more than a few weeks. I've already pegged 
down specific office locations and prices. Half of the staff is 
already selected from our technical group, and I have been doing 
some unofficial reconnaissance for talent in the city during the 
last few months. Once I have the official OK, I'll break the news 
to her. As I said, it will be difficult to explain my activities 
here once I get busy with the actual setting up of operations. 
How long are you on vacation, Mitch?"

"About four weeks, roughly. Why?"

"As I said, I expect an answer very soon. If it works out, I 
would like to go out for a celebration to break the news to 
Kathy." He gave a meaningful look, making me laugh.

"You're scared of Kathy's reaction, aren't you, and want some 
support?" I asked.

He gave a hearty laugh. "Yes. I'm afraid you're right about my 
ulterior motives."

"You don't have to worry about that, Mark. I've seen how she is 
with you. She's very different. She's a very independent girl. 
She had always been like that, even when we were kids. Very 
competitive as well. But around you, she's different. I know that 
she loves you very much. What you're trying to do tells me that 
you love her back. Long distance relationships are pretty 
difficult, and yet, you two managed it. I think she'll be 
thrilled when you break the news. I know she feels lonely and she 
needs her man around. If things work out as you planned, count me 
in. I'll certainly be there."

"Thank you, Mitch. I appreciate the vote of confidence."

"No need for thanks, Mark. If you don't mind my asking, how did 
you fare with Mom? She can be a tough lady."

He smiled at that. "I like your mom. She's really sweet. It's 
easy to see where Kathy got her looks and strength. I know she 
was concerned about the long distance relationship, but I think 
she understands I'm serious about your sister. To tell the truth, 
I agree with what she said to your sister: 'first school then 
marriage'. I can't fault her logic. And I love her cooking."

"Well, I love her cooking, too, but I think every son loves his 
mother's cooking. More or less," I commented with a smile.

He replied, "True, I loved my mom's cooking, but it's been a long 
time."

Seeing my confused look, he said, "Mom passed away four years 
ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I replied hastily, realizing I had 
touched a tender spot.

"It's all right. You didn't know," he said, trying to relieve my 
embarrassment, then he added, "That's why it was great to meet 
your mom. I had forgotten how good home cooking could be, and 
your mom is really an excellent cook."

"Thank you. I'm sorry to hear about your loss. Please accept my 
condolences."

"Thank you, Mitch."

We were quiet for a few seconds, and I was hesitant to ask about 
his dad. However, he didn't miss my unease, giving me a 
questioning look.

"I was wondering about your dad," I said with a nervous tone.

He gave an understanding smile, and replied, "Dad's alive. He's 
retired and keeping himself busy with a part-time consulting job 
out of his home office. He's an engineer, so you could say I 
followed in his footsteps. Kathy and I visited him several times, 
and he's very fond of her. Yep, he loves her. Every time I talk 
to him, he keeps reminding me to tie the knot before I lose her 
to somebody else."

I laughed at his remark. "You shouldn't be concerned about 
something like that. I don't think Kathy sees anyone but you," I 
replied. Then, extending my hand, I said, "I guess it's a bit 
late, but let's make it official. Welcome to the family, Mark," 
and we shook hands.

We kept on chatting about various subjects, before the girls 
returned from the kitchen. From the flush on Kathy's face I 
didn't have trouble guessing Sarah had done what she had 
promised. Mark must have recognized it as well, because he raised 
an eyebrow at Kathy, and received a naughty grin.

Kathy moved in close and whispered, "I didn't know you were such 
a bad boy, Mitch. And, with my best friend. You've got some 
explaining to do."

Sarah, of course, knew what Kathy was doing and grinned at me 
unabashedly.

_Damn girls!_

Then, Kathy moved to Mark, who was watching the developments with 
curiosity. He was aware the girls were giving me a hard time 
about something, but he was polite enough not to ask about it. He 
may have been glad that, for once, he wasn't their target. 
Unfortunately, his relief would be short lived. Kathy turned her 
attention on Mark and without a preamble asked when they could 
leave the party. I looked at my watch and it was almost eleven 
o'clock, still early.

"Are you tired, Kathy? It's almost eleven," I teased her.

Mark picked up on it as well, and said it was indeed too early to 
leave the party. Sarah joined in by asking if her party was 
boring. Kathy knew all of us were conspiring against her, but she 
wasn't going to give us the satisfaction of seeing her squirm, so 
she replied she didn't realize it was that early. However, she 
was going to try underhanded methods, and moving under Mark's 
arm, she started to work on him, discreetly, with innocent little 
touches here and there, and giving him smoldering looks. I 
wondered how long it would take Kathy to work her charm on Mark, 
and how long it would be before Sarah distracted me.

After a few minutes, Sarah reminded us we had to mingle, so I 
kept her company for the next hour, until the party drew to a 
close. While getting a drink for myself, I looked around for Mark 
to see how he was faring with Kathy, and I was surprised to see 
that he was taking it in stride. He noticed me and headed in my 
direction to refresh his drink, and perhaps get a breather from 
Kathy's incessant attentions.

"You must have an iron constitution, Mark," I commented.

He gave a wry grin, and replied, "Well, you know how it is. Good 
things come to those that wait."

"Not only you have an iron constitution, you're very brave as 
well. You're not scared of repercussions?" I retorted with a 
grin.

"I'm not really brave, not when it comes to Kathy. But, she'd be 
disappointed if I give up so easily."

"Yes. She loves challenges. No questions about that. I'm happy to 
see that she has finally met her match."

At that, he laughed. "I don't know about that. How about you?"

"Sarah is taking it easy on me. Maybe we should keep the girls 
separate," I suggested.

He raised his glass and replied, "You're a quick study, Mitch. It 
took me longer to realize that, but they're inseparable."

"It's only survival instincts, Mark," I quipped.

We had a good laugh about that. Just then both girls showed up at 
our side, asking what we were laughing about. Mark and I shared a 
look before bursting into laughter again.

"I think it's time we tuck these two in bed, don't you think 
Sarah?" asked Kathy.

"Yeah. They are getting silly," quipped Sarah.

Luckily before a back and forth started among the four of us, the 
few remaining guests interrupted us to thank Sarah for a great 
party and bid goodbye. After the guests had left, Mark and I 
helped the girls, collecting the empty plates, glasses, and 
generally tidying up the place, while they rinsed and stacked the 
dirty dishes in the dishwasher. It didn't take too long with four 
people working together to get the place picked up. Mark and 
Kathy stayed for a nightcap--coffee and Napoleon cognac--and both 
girls used the occasion to get us worked up, and get themselves 
worked up at the same time. It sure was going to be a hard night. 
Finally, Kathy and Mark bid us goodnight, Kathy reminding that we 
were expected at her place at three o'clock sharp. Needless to 
say, that started a short back and forth between the two at the 
door. Sarah said, she would try her best to be on time, and Kathy 
replied that wasn't good enough. Sarah came back, reminding Kathy 
she needed to sleep instead of staying up too late, at which 
point Mark gently pulled Kathy by her arm, saying she needed to 
be tucked in, while I did the same with Sarah, before the two 
girls could continue further.



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 15: The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of



I closed the door, and turned to find Sarah moving into my arms. 
She hooked her hands around my neck, pulling me for a kiss. As 
she checked out my tonsils, she pushed me till my back was 
against the door, and plastered her body over mine, rubbing 
herself against me.

When we surfaced from the kiss, she said, "Finally, I have you 
where I want you."

Giving me a soft kiss, she moved her hand down to work on my 
belt, before I realized what she was doing. By the time our kiss 
ended, she had my belt loose, the button open, and was pulling 
the zipper down. She put her hand on my chest, pushing me gently 
but firmly against the door, while her other hand was busy 
stroking my cock in my boxers. She moved to kneel in front of me, 
and pulled my jeans and boxers down in a single move, surprising 
me again by her passion. I could hear her panting and wondered if 
she would rape me there, but she just knelt in front of me, 
looking at my cock. Holding the shaft gently with one hand, she 
leaned in for a lick, while her other hand moved to cup my balls. 
I didn't want to interrupt her, but I was thinking we could do 
this in more comfortable circumstances. After a few teasing 
licks, she let go of my cock and pulled my boxers and jeans back 
up, while she rose from her kneeling position.

Her actions surprised me again, but before I could voice my 
question she said, "I just wanted to have a look and I couldn't 
wait. Now, I want to go to the bathroom and take out my tampon. I 
expect you to walk in on me."

_Wow! She really wants to play out the whole scenario._

"Mmmm. Good plan, Sarah. Very good plan."

She gave a big grin. "I thought so, too," she replied, her eyes 
aflame with arousal. "Give me two minutes."

We walked the short hall, and she went into the bathroom. I 
continued to her bedroom, and took off my jacket and shirt, 
placing them on a chair. I took of my belt, since I didn't want 
it to slow us down. After getting my hard-on in a comfortable 
position, I zipped up and buttoned my jeans. I waited another 
minute to give time to Sarah. I closed her bedroom door firmly, 
so that Sarah would know I would be arriving, and be ready to get 
into position for the encounter. I suspected she would be sitting 
on the toilet cover, with her jeans and panties at her ankles, 
like she had been that day.

I opened the door casually and there she was, in exactly the same 
position; jeans and panties around her ankles, knees spread wide, 
head bent, looking down, and her hand busy at her vagina. When 
she heard the door open she looked up. The only difference 
between the last time and now was the unadulterated lust in her 
eyes, instead of the shock she had had then.

Before I entered the bathroom I was already hard with 
expectation, and now, my erection throbbed as the memory of 
teenage years rushed in like a freight train. This wasn't just 
d�j� vu. It was more than that, and the effects unexpected. 
Taking a trip down memory lane was something I was used to. And, 
with my memory, my trips had always been special. But this was 
beyond that, helped along with the awakening of memories of that 
particular teenage moment. It was like traveling back in time. It 
probably took me half a minute, before I remembered where I was, 
although it felt like ages passed. The resulting effect on her 
was something incredible, sucking her into the scene. If I had 
tried play acting, my reaction wouldn't have the same realistic 
effect on her.

Her hands were still at her pussy, fingers of one hand keeping 
her labia apart, giving me a good view of her moist pink flesh. 
She was holding the string of the tampon with her other hand, the 
end of tampon barely visible. I moved and knelt before her wide 
splayed legs, keeping eye contact with her.

"I'm sorry, Sarah. I didn't know the toilet was occupied." After 
a pause, I continued, "You seem to be in trouble. Can I help?"

She nodded her head, hesitantly, and chewed her lips like a 
scared young girl.

I kissed her on her cheek and whispered, "Don't worry. I'll be 
careful. I won't hurt you."

She nodded again in the same apprehensive manner, and I caressed 
her cheek. Playing her role to the hilt, she seemed to relax a 
bit, and this time I kissed her on her lips. It was a chaste 
kiss, and she sighed softly. Except for her breathing and the 
lust in her eyes, we were playing the 'what could have been' to 
perfection.

"Please keep your fingers in position and lean back, so I can 
have a good look."

She nodded her understanding. Her face was flushed, and it looked 
as if she was embarrassed, but we both knew it was from her 
building excitement and the anticipation of the moment. I knelt 
and, leaning in, took a good look. The moment evoked strange 
feelings; I was looking at a grown up woman, but it felt like I 
was looking at teenage girl flesh. The clean shaven labia, and 
the little bit of pubic hair on top of her mons gave that eerie 
effect. Gently I took the string to the tampon from her hand, and 
gave a gentle tug to get a feel, as if I was scared of hurting 
her. From the little pull I exerted, I knew she was deliberately 
squeezing her pussy muscles, giving the impression that it was 
stuck inside. I chuckled internally at her antics, but it was 
quite arousing when I thought about the situation, and how it 
could have turned out so many years ago if we both had been more 
experienced and daring. The thought sent a new surge of 
excitement, and I felt my cock throb with the sudden rush of 
fresh blood to my lower regions.

"Sarah, honey. It's kind of stuck there, and if I try to pull it, 
it will hurt you," I said softly.

She nodded, and her forehead crinkled with apprehension. She 
hesitantly asked, "W-What can we do?"

She was good.

"You need to relax, Sarah. You're too tense, and your little box 
is tense as well."

"This never happened before. I can't seem to relax."

"I think I can help you relax. But you have to trust me. I won't 
hurt you. Do you understand, Sarah?"

"I trust you, Mitch. What are you going to do?"

I gave a long, soft kiss, and asked, "Do you like kissing like 
this?"

She nodded with a smile.

"I'm going to kiss you like that... down there. Do you think you 
will enjoy that?"

"Some girls say their boyfriends do something like that. Isn't it 
dirty or gross?"

"No, Sarah. It's not dirty. You're beautiful down there, and I 
would love to do that for you. It will feel great and make you 
relax. May I try? Please?"

She nodded hesitantly, and her color deepened, caught in the 
excitement of the moment. Then she asked, "You're going to make 
me cum with your mouth, aren't you?"

At her question, I looked at her and said, "Yes, Sarah. I would 
like to try to do just that. Can I have another kiss before I 
start?"

I rose up without waiting for her answer, and she grabbed my 
head, locking her lips without hesitation. We enjoyed a clumsy 
kiss, like teenagers, but the effect was magic. When our kiss 
ended, she was breathing hard, but more relaxed and excited.

I knelt down in front of her splayed legs, gazed at her pussy, 
and mumbled, "You're beautiful, Sarah. I think you'll taste sweet 
as well."

First, I touched her flesh with my lips softly, and then slowly 
started to lick the inner lips, from bottom to top. Despite the 
tampon she was juicing up plenty. After a few licks I looked up, 
and she had her eyes closed, panting softly, her nose flaring. 
Sensing that I stopped attending to her pussy, she opened her 
eyes, and looked at me.

"Do you like it?"

Her answer was much more enthusiastic than her earlier replies. 
"It feels good. You really don't mind doing that?"

"Sarah you taste great. Just as I hoped. I'm really going to 
enjoy doing this. Just close your eyes and enjoy yourself. It 
will feel much better in a short while."

She closed her eyes, waiting for me to continue, her breathing 
getting heavier. I started to lick her again, while applying 
little pulls to the string, tugging at her tampon to stimulate 
her channel, but softly enough so that the tampon stayed inside 
her. After a while, she started moaning, and she removed the hand 
which held her labia open, letting my hand take over. When I 
looked up, she had her hand under her sweater, busy playing with 
her tits. When I started to lick around her clitoris she gave a 
soft scream, her thighs starting to tremble, and her hips working 
to get more of my tongue action on her pussy.

I kept teasing her, instead of trying to bring her over, and her 
screams changed to needy wails. I wanted her to ask for it. 
Finally, she couldn't help herself and she started to beg, 
"Please, Mitch... it's so good... please, do me... do it to me... 
I'm almost there. Make me cum."

I stopped what I was doing, and looked at her. When she felt me 
stop, she opened her eyes. She was needy, but not like the last 
time, and she still had her wits. Falling back into her role, she 
begged, "Please, Mitch. You promised you would kiss me there 
until I cum. Please. Do it."

"I will, Sarah. I want you to pull up your sweater. I want to see 
your tits."

She acted a bit self-conscious and shy, when she heard my 
request, but when I didn't continue to lick and kept teasing her 
with my fingers, she lifted her sweater up, displaying a 
beautiful set of tits. They were perfectly shaped, firm, slightly 
pendulous due to their size but without being saggy. They were 
conical towards the tip. A set of pink, very erect, puffy nipples 
adorned the tips of them, standing at attention in the middle of 
crinkly, darker areola.

"They're beautiful, Sarah."

They begged to be kissed, so I rose up to lick from the underside 
to the top, and circled the nipple before sucking it, getting a 
nice moan for my efforts. Repeating the same action on her other 
breast, I moved for a kiss and we had a hot and wet kiss, Sarah 
licking her juices from my lips and then sucking my tongue. My 
finger was busy at her pussy, playing with the hood of her 
clitoris, trying to keep her on edge, making her gasp and pant 
into my mouth. After the kiss, I revisited her tits, before 
traveling further down to her pussy, leaving a wet trail, while 
my hands took over from where my lips left, at her tits, playing, 
kneading and teasing her flesh, pulling on her nipples.

Back at her pussy, I gently sucked her clitoris, which had come 
out from its protective hood. As I had noticed before, it was 
pretty large, like a small penis. I wondered if that's why she 
was so hot and horny. As I sucked her clit, her hips came up, 
thighs trembling, and she started to wail her pleasure. Keeping 
one hand on her tit, I moved my other hand down to pull on the 
string to stimulate her, as she neared her peak. The combination 
of my efforts sucking and licking her clitoris, and the rhythmic 
pull I applied on the string had her on the brink in a few 
minutes. Wrapping the excess length of the string around my 
finger until I felt the bottom of the tampon at the tip of my 
finger, I got ready to bring her over.

I started to lick around her clit in circles, then applied gentle 
suction and nipped it very lightly a few times, while I started 
to work her nipple, which had swelled between my fingers. As she 
screamed her release, I started to pull the tampon with the 
string and pushed it back with the tip of my finger, while 
sucking her clit, driving her crazy, her short but sharp screams 
echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom. As her screams 
tapered off to occasional moans, I slowly pulled the tampon, 
drawing out the last dregs of pleasure from her trembling, 
shaking body. As the tampon came out, it was followed by a little 
flood of her juices trapped behind it. Taking care not to over 
stimulate her clitoris, I locked my lips around her labia and 
worked my tongue at the entrance to her channel, with occasional 
swipes along the length of her slit, reaching her clitoris. She 
started to thrash again, but, to my surprise, I didn't have much 
difficulty keeping up with her movements. Then I realized one of 
my knees was on the crotch of her jeans and panties, pooled 
around her feet, effectively trapping her into position. She had 
no way to escape my attention, except wiggling her ass or raising 
it up a limited distance.

Since she was still hot, and moving along to a second orgasm, I 
decided to go the whole distance. I dropped the tampon on the 
floor, and slowly worked a finger into her channel vacated 
recently by the tampon, while my tongue got busy over the hood of 
her clit; the bottom of my tongue making gentle swipes over the 
hood and exposed part of her clit. Adding a second finger, I 
rotated them and formed a hook, searching for her ON switch. I 
was pretty careful, after the experience I had had with Dana in 
my first test of that technique. I didn't want to lose a tooth or 
get my lips cut with a sudden reaction. Still, when I first 
touched it by accident, Sarah lurched up. Luckily her movements 
were very much restricted by her pants and my knee.

My upper body prevented her from locking her legs around my head, 
even though she tried to close her legs instinctively. As I 
rubbed her special spot, she tried to take a deep breath, 
probably to scream her head off, however she was having 
difficulty breathing, panting and gasping. For a moment I was 
scared she would faint from lack of oxygen. The way she 
struggled, and thrashed on the toilet seat, the way her body 
trembled, made me wonder if she was slowly suffocating. Just as I 
was deciding to give her a break, I felt her diaphragm expand, 
and a few seconds later she exhaled slowly, with a wail that 
sounded like a wounded animal. She tried to push me away from her 
pussy, but I wanted to drag out her pleasure. I eased my rubbing 
but kept up on her clitoris. Her fingers grabbed my hair, pulling 
me hard against her pussy and she shrieked. A few seconds later, 
her fingers relaxed their hold, and I eased up on her clitoris 
which was starting to recede back under the hood. I kept rubbing 
her spot, trying to keep her at the peak, but her channel was 
gripping my fingers hard, fluttering and made it difficult to 
keep in position. I tried slow strokes as she started to come 
down, feeling her snug channel work its magic, trying to suck the 
invaders in, and swallow them. Her belly kept trembling, the 
stomach muscles doing double time, flexing with the after effects 
of her orgasm.

I kept kissing and licking her inner lips and labia, as I 
withdrew my fingers, releasing another small flood of her juices. 
I was amazed by the amount of fluids she seemed to produce. When 
I looked up, her back was on the small reservoir, her had thrown 
back, resting on the wall, and her eyes were squeezed shut from 
the pleasure. She was breathing hard, but it was slowing down. 
For a moment I felt guilty that I worked her body so hard, but I 
was sure she enjoyed herself, and the fantasy play probably 
enhanced her experience. I knew I enjoyed the whole thing. If we 
had able to do something when we were young, we probably would 
have messed it up. Now, it had been perfect. I realized I still 
had one hand on her tit, and was squeezing her flesh hard in my 
excitement, trying to pleasure her as much as possible, so I 
eased my hold and caressed the soft flesh gently trying to sooth 
it. When I lifted my hand off her tit, I saw the imprint of my 
fingers. I must have been squeezing it quite brutally.

I rose up and slowly kissed her belly, making my way back to her 
tits, and paid extra attention kissing her bruised tit, before 
moving to kiss her. When she felt my face near her and smelled 
her own womanly scent on my lips, my moustache and beard, her 
nose flared, and her eyes opened. I waited until she managed to 
focus on my face. Even though she had two hard orgasms, she 
seemed to feed on the pleasure. There was still unburned passion 
in her eyes, softened quite a bit with the pleasure she had 
experienced. She would be ready to go again in a short while, 
unless of course her heart gave out under the strain. For a 
moment I was taken aback by her appetite and energy, scared that 
she would eat me alive during the night. However, it was a short-
lived fright, her lust turning me on and my own unsatisfied lust 
rising up, overcoming the fear.

_I think this is going to be one memorable night. I wonder if 
we'll survive each other or this experience._

As she regained control of her breathing, she licked her lips, 
and then asked, "God, what were you trying to do? Kill me?"

"Did I hurt you?" I asked.

"No."

"I told you I wouldn't hurt you, but I would try to make you 
come," I teased her.

"You rat. You call that trying to make me come? I was dying. I 
thought my heart would burst or get sucked out of my pussy."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, Sarah," I replied softly.

She was going to give me a snappy reply, but then her expression 
softened, and she kissed me. "Thank you, Mitch. It was exquisite. 
It was beyond my expectations. It wouldn't have been anywhere 
close if we had done something, anything, at the time; 
inexperienced and shy as we were then."

"I enjoyed it as much as you, Sarah. As you said, I doubt I would 
have been able to bring you pleasure then. Thank you for giving 
both of us the opportunity."

We shared a long kiss, and she worked her tongue inside my mouth, 
working me up. The way she worked her lips and tongue, she was 
letting me know that she was going to suck me dry. Just the 
thought of her lips wrapped around my cock was enough to drive me 
crazy, after the way she kissed.

"Don't you feel thirsty? I think you should have a glass or two 
of water. You lost a lot of fluids," I reminded her.

"Thanks to you, there isn't a drop of liquid left in my body," 
she retorted. "I love tasting myself on your lips, on your 
tongue. It makes me horny."

Putting her words into action she kissed me again, licking my 
lips and collecting her oils from my moustache. I moved my hand 
to check her pussy, and I felt her moisture seeping between the 
open lips of her labia, surprised again by how she seemed to 
produce so much liquid. She felt what I was doing, and smiled, 
and when I showed her my wet finger, she said, "OK. You don't 
have to rub my nose in it. I might have some fluids left in my 
body."

"I'd rather rub my tongue in it," I quipped, before adding, "I'm 
not saying anything. I'm just surprised how wet you are, not that 
I'm complaining. It's quite a turn on."

"Yeah, stud. You make me wet my panties," she retorted. Then, she 
took my hand, and licked my fingers that had been in her pussy, 
sucking them clean, while giving me a lecherous smile.

In a more serious tone she said, "It helps during sex. I'm lucky 
that I'm not excessively wet during normal times. It can be a 
problem, causing a yeast infection or something if I'm not 
careful. Sometimes, I have to use a tampon or a panty liner, but 
except when I'm hot and horny I'm not that wet."

"Well, you were hot and horny, but I didn't see any panty liners 
or tampons tonight," I asked, my curiosity getting the better of 
me.

"Ahh. That's a secret. I wanted you to feel and smell a woman in 
heat. I told you I lusted after you and I pulled all the stops, 
except..."

"Except?"

"After what Kathy told me, I promised myself I wasn't going to 
try anything, if you said no because of your girl friend. Fun is 
fun, lust is lust, but friendship and love are too important to 
throw aside because you want to have fun or satisfy your lust. I 
admit I worked you up, but I didn't hear anything from you asking 
me to slow down. I love you, Mitch. Not as in romantic love, but 
as a considerate lover, bed partner, and as my best friend's 
brother. I promised you one night, but until I find my own man, 
you have a standing invitation to share my bed. I could really do 
with a partner like you, but that's something for later, and is 
solely at your discretion. I'm not going to harass you with it. 
Not after what you did. We still have the whole night, and early 
morning to sate our thirst." She finished with a tingling laugh, 
her shaking breasts catching my eye, and reminding me the painful 
hard-on in my pants.

"Can you get me a glass of water. I'm really thirsty, and if I 
try to slake my thirst on something else, I'm afraid I won't 
leave anything in you for the rest of the night," she quipped.

Unfortunately, there was no cup in the bathroom. I had taken the 
only one to her bedroom early on. So, I went to the kitchen and 
grabbed a big glass, and a bottle of water from the fridge, and 
returned to the bathroom. I knew she wanted to complete the whole 
scene from the past with a blowjob in the bathroom, before we 
retired to her bedroom for the rest of the festivities, which 
suited me fine. I was close to bursting out with need also, the 
excitement of the whole scene, and pleasuring her kept me from 
focusing on my own needs. However, knowing what was coming made 
me realize my own pent up lust.

After she finished two glasses of water, she was looking forward 
to the next phase of our little scenario. Sitting up, she pulled 
me close, unbuttoned my jeans, and pulled the zipper down. Then 
with deft little moves she slid my jeans and boxers down, 
releasing my hard cock.

The tip was already wet, leaking some precum and she gave a quick 
lick, tasting it, before looking up at me. "You're pretty close, 
aren't you?" she asked.

"Yep. I got worked up pretty good. I don't think I'll last too 
long."

"Hmm... I don't want you to shoot off too soon. I can take the 
edge off, but..."

"But?"

"It involves a little bit of pain, and I don't want to do that 
just because I want to enjoy sucking you longer."

"What kind of pain?"

"A little flick on your testicles, and I will also press at the 
root, but that doesn't really hurt. The flick on the testicles 
will hurt, momentarily, and as a man you should know how 
sensitive the testicles are. I don't really want to do that 
Mitch, just to enjoy sucking you. I think you will enjoy it 
whether it's short or long. But, I know I will give you a lot of 
pleasure if it is longer. As they say, no pain, no gain. Your 
call."

She was smiling when she said it, but I could sense her unease 
and a bit of guilt mixed with what she was suggesting. To ease 
her nerves I kissed her, and then said, "I choose the pain, 
Sarah. We didn't wait this long to waste the opportunity."

On the outside I was calm, but my insides were churning a bit 
with apprehension. I knew she wouldn't hurt me. After all, she 
was a doctor, and knew about pain, and male anatomy. I was going 
to discover how much she knew about male anatomy later.

"Give me another kiss, Mitch," she said, and as I was bending 
over, she flicked with her finger sharply at my testicles, 
catching me with surprise. The pain was sharp, and since I wasn't 
expecting it, I grunted, although it wasn't as bad as I thought 
it would be. Then she pressed at the root of my shaft, and 
combined with the after effects of the throbbing pain that was 
receding, they worked perfectly to take the edge off my immediate 
problem. I saw her eyes getting moist, and I shook my head. 
Leaning in whispered, "It wasn't that bad, Sarah. You distracted 
me nicely, and caught me by surprise."

Giving her a long kiss, I looked in her eyes, and she seemed to 
get over her initial discomfort.

"Are you going to kiss and heal me now?" I asked, with a grin.

That had the desired effect, eliciting soft laughter. "Oh, yes. 
I'm going to play doctor with you."

For the next twenty minutes, she tortured me with her velvet 
mouth and tongue, taking me to the edge then back several times. 
After the first ten minutes my legs were shaking, and after 
another five minutes, I was gritting my teeth. Her tongue was 
hard, and rough, her mouth sucking hard, then her tongue was 
light as a feather, the suction soft, teasing, the lips 
caressing, their touch almost non-existent, sliding over the 
length of my shaft. She got my balls simmering then almost 
boiling, before she let them cool off to get them simmering 
again, taking me to the edge over and over. I've never been 
tortured in such an exquisite manner. Changing her position, she 
aligned her throat and opened it up, swallowing my cock 
completely to the balls, the glans lodged inside her throat, as 
she worked her muscles there, working on the sensitive underside 
of the glans and all around it. Pulling out, she applied soft 
teasing suction, and repeated her deep throating. When she felt 
me draw close, she eased up on her ministrations, or pressed at 
the root of my shaft.

When I looked down, I saw her watching me closely, enjoying the 
torture she was putting me through, her eyes laughing, teasing. 
She was having a great time making love to my cock. As I gritted 
my teeth, feeling the simmering in my balls slowly coming to a 
boil again, she eased up on her suction, and started to deep 
throat me. When I drew even closer, she went back to applying her 
lips gently around my shaft, sliding it between them, over her 
tongue, while she gently sucked. She used her fingers of one hand 
on my shaft, milking my shaft, while her other hand cradled my 
balls, rolling my nuts, and tickling my sack. Her tongue kept 
teasing the sensitive underside, helping to milk my cock. When 
she released me from her lips for a moment, I caught sight of my 
dick. The head was an angry looking purple, swollen, and after a 
tentative lick around it, she took it in her mouth again. My legs 
were starting to shake with the strain, and I was getting 
desperate to come.

Little by little, she drew my pleasure out, her tongue and mouth 
became ever softer, teasing. I knew when I came it was going to 
be special. I just hoped my legs didn't give up first. As the tip 
of my cock hardened more, getting ready to unload, and the little 
hole flared open, she must have felt it throbbing with urgency, 
because the next thing she did was to use her tongue to play with 
the hole, making my balls lurch. Returning to caress the 
underside of the glans, and applying a soft suction, she pushed 
me over the edge. As my come traveled along the shaft, she moved 
her lips over it, letting the underside of my shaft slide over 
her tongue, all the way to the tip, while fondling my balls, and 
making me pump out more. I burst hard and fast in the first few 
seconds, and filled her mouth. She quickly swallowed, before 
continuing with her gentle suction and tongue action to the 
rhythm of my bursts, while playing with my balls, milking the 
rest of my come gently, with exquisite slowness out of my shaft. 
All my feelings were concentrated at that single point in my 
body.

I wasn't sure how long it continued, but she kept up her actions, 
without making me overly sensitive, and it felt like I was 
pouring my insides through my cock. When I stopped pumping, and 
the outflow turned into a trickle, I let out a heavy groan 
through my clenched teeth. As I relaxed my jaw, it hurt, as if it 
was sore, and I realized I must have been gritting my teeth. When 
I managed to gather myself a bit, I realized my cheeks were wet. 
The pleasure had been too much, making me squeeze my eyes shut, 
forcing tears. I tried to massage my jaw and wipe my tears, but 
my legs were shaking like hell, and I was ready to collapse. 
Sarah was cupping my ass trying to support me, while she gently 
nursed on my cock, trying to get the last bit of cum trapped 
within the seminal canal, by milking it along the length of it. 
To steady myself, I had to hold onto her shoulders for a few 
minutes. When I caught my breath, I realized she still had me in 
her mouth, letting my cock rest without stimulating it.

God, the way she sucked me was incredible, and I wondered if I 
would be able to get it hard again tonight. I wiped the tears, 
and massaged my jaw, opening and closing my mouth, trying to 
loosen the muscles.

When she felt I was back to myself, she released me from her 
mouth and looked up. I could see specks of my cum around her 
lips, and chin. Probably my initial explosion had overwhelmed 
her. I had felt the force of the first bursts. At the time, I 
thought my balls would eject from the shaft; it had been that 
intense, even though she had been gently milking my cock as she 
took me over the edge.

Holding onto her shoulders, I knelt in front of her, my legs 
still unsteady after the experience. Once my knees were firmly on 
the floor, I kissed her, hard, then softly. I could taste myself 
in her mouth and on her tongue, but after the pleasure she gave 
me, I didn't mind. When we surfaced, she was smiling, satisfied 
with the pleasure she had given me.

"I thought you wanted to leave something for the rest of the 
night."

"This was just to take the edge off, Mitch," she teased.

"God, Sarah. I thought my balls would melt down and you'd be 
sucking them. One day I want to have children, if you let me keep 
my balls."

"Good. That's almost how it felt with what you did to me."

"So, this was a pay back."

"Ahh, Mitch. After the pleasure you gave me, I wanted to return 
it. Now, we'll take a short break, and I'll feed you a little 
snack to get your strength back."

"You're going to kill me tonight, aren't you?"

"Me? No way. I'm not going to risk that. Not with Kathy watching 
over you. She'd skin me alive," she retorted. "But, you can kill 
me. I'd rather have you kill me than get skinned by her. I'm 
looking forward to your tender mercies."

We shared several kisses, and I teased her breasts, before she 
pulled the hem of her sweater down. Finally catching our breath, 
we pulled up our underwear and jeans, before going to the 
kitchen. I was going to wash my face, but seeing Sarah hadn't, I 
decided to follow suit. It would be dirty, and decadent to sit in 
the kitchen smelling of each other. Taking my shirt and jacket 
off had been a lucky decision, otherwise, back at Kathy's place, 
I would have been a constant target of her teasing about how I 
smelled. If tonight's teasing was an indication, there was no 
need to supply more fuel to the fire.



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 16: Around the World...



When we were in the kitchen, Sarah prepared two cups of hot 
chocolate with a large piece of pure chocolate on the side, then 
went about making sandwiches with peanut butter and honey, before 
joining me on the table. We finished the hot chocolate and she 
prepared another cup, before we started on the sandwiches. I had 
not noticed it before, but the kitchen was very warm, even with 
my undershirt on. It became clear when she casually took of her 
jeans, and her sweater, looking at me. When I raised an eyebrow, 
she smiled.

"I put the heat up a little bit. You don't feel hot?"

"Yeah, it's hot. I thought it was from the hot chocolate. So, 
what's next in the agenda?" I asked, grinning.

"Nothing special. Just me, over and over again. Did you ever read 
_Around the World in 80 Days_?" she asked.

Drawing a blank look with her strange question, she laughed and 
explained, "I have my own version, _Around Sarah in 80 Ways_. I 
think you'll enjoy the read, or whatever."

I was almost on the floor, laughing hard at her twisted sense of 
humor.

When I collected myself, she said, "I want you to get 
comfortable. Get naked, then we'll eat."

Not one to disappoint a lady, I stood up and shed my clothes, 
while Sarah took off her panties as well. She motioned me to 
place the chair sideways to the table, and waited until I sat, 
then she sat on my lap, straddling me. She rose up a bit, to 
position my semi-hard cock between her thighs, rubbing against 
the lips of her pussy, and settled down. She fed me the 
sandwiches, bite by bite, pampering me, teasing me, and taking a 
few bites herself. In the meantime, she was oiling my cock with 
her dripping juices. I wanted to tease and work her up more, so 
when the sandwiches were finished, I took a sip from my hot 
chocolate and before she could react, I lashed her nipple with my 
hot tongue. Her nubbin was already hard, but my hot tongue made 
it swell that little bit extra. Then I started to lave her tit, 
interspersed with sips from the hot chocolate, and finally 
settled for a long teasing suck of her nipple. Her juices were 
copious, and I felt wet to my balls. I turned my attention to her 
other tit. Reaching out for the little tube of honey, I squeezed 
a cold dollop of it on her tit getting a small shriek and a 
giggle, then taking a sip from the hot chocolate I laved her tit, 
while licking off the honey. I finished with gentle sucks and 
bites of her nipple, making her moan and pant.

The small kitchen table looked to be pretty sturdy. I had always 
wondered about sex in the kitchen, and things were going in the 
right direction. The only problem was, as usual, logistics, which 
was turning into a regular pain in the neck. The fucking condoms! 
So, I slowed my attentions. Sarah wasn't as far gone as she had 
been before, but she was pretty hot. When I slowed down, she 
realized something was not right, so we kissed, trying to cool 
off, but not too much. Then she gave me quizzical look.

"Protection," I said.

"Protection? You mean condoms?"

I nodded.

"I have some in my bedroom. Mitch, are you clean?"

Was I clean? I didn't know that. Until Dana I had been careful. 
In all my amorous escapades she had been the only exception, 
mostly because I had trusted her.

Seeing me in thought, she asked, "You had unprotected sex?"

I nodded.

"With your girlfriend?"

I nodded again, while thinking about the situation.

"Mitch, don't you know if she was clean or not?" she asked 
apprehensive, but she was worried about me.

"I... I don't know for sure if she was clean. We both trusted 
each other, because of certain things we shared about ourselves. 
I've not been very active and had always been careful about it. 
Except her, that is. She's not the promiscuous type, and she was 
an ex-nurse. She told me she was careful about it, and had not 
been active for a long time. I had reason... I have reason to 
believe her."

She gave me a soft kiss, cupping my face in her hands, then 
looking in my eyes, she said, "After what I heard from Kathy, I 
don't think you would have been involved with a cheap tramp. But, 
Mitch, you took an unnecessary risk. You realize that, don't you? 
It's easy to get a test done and enjoy yourself to the fullest 
afterwards."

Then she put her hands on my shoulder, watching me. I knew she 
was right. In fact, both of us had taken an unnecessary risk. I 
didn't have anything against condoms, considering the 
alternative, but the feeling of flesh against flesh was something 
special. Damn it, I had acted like a horny little kid, and even 
Dana had acted like a teenage girl, and she had nurse training 
and was older than me, more experienced and knowledgeable about 
those things. Why did she do what she did? How could she trust 
me? But that begged the same question, why did I trust her? Did 
we give into our lust? No, we had shared quite a lot during our 
talk, and we felt something for each other, enough not to put 
each other at risk. We had been true to each other. Both of us 
were not the types to give in to sudden impulses, although that 
was possible of course. But our past, our histories indicated we 
were both cautious, burned enough, hurt enough, not to inflict 
another hurt to each other.

"I think we better use the condoms, Sarah," I said, even though I 
was pretty sure I was clean. I didn't want her to worry about it.

She was watching me carefully, mulling something in her mind. 
"Mitch, how recent is your relationship, if you don't mind my 
asking?" she asked.

_Shit. I have another Kathy in my hands._

"Why do you ask that, Sarah? I told you I had unprotected sex. 
That makes me a risk factor."

"It makes you a risk factor, if you don't know your partner's 
sexual history, and health. And that's usually when you're just 
starting a relationship."

When I didn't reply, she continued, "Mitch, I don't want to grill 
you, OK? But what you're not saying tells me a lot. You must have 
met her very recently, and not known her for a long time, but you 
trust her. I know some things about you to understand that you 
don't give your trust to people easily. You brought up the 
protection yourself, so I know you're careful, even in the heat 
of passion. By the way, I'm very careful, too. I even got tested 
recently. Somehow you weren't careful with your girlfriend. Why? 
Unless, you have reason to believe her and trust her?"

"Yes, I do."

"Not only that, but she must have trusted you as well, unless 
she's not what she seems to be. And I doubt she's somebody like 
that. You said she was an ex-nurse, so that's another plus on her 
side. I'm just curious, Mitch. She must be something to steal 
your heart."

I wasn't going to ask why she thought Dana was something special, 
as I was afraid of what was coming after that. It felt like I was 
talking to Kathy, except this was Sarah, a very naked, beautiful, 
and dripping wet Sarah. It felt wrong to talk about another 
woman, when she was sitting on my lap, naked. When I didn't 
reply, she kissed me, and then continued in her soft, melodic 
tone.

"Kathy didn't tell me much, but I knew she was warning me about 
your past. That was before you met your new girl. She told me 
tonight, you were out of circulation. I'm not stupid, Mitch. I'm 
jealous of your new girl, however I'm not going to hold it 
against her. No. I just wish I had met the other one, the one 
that broke your heart. I would love to whip that bitch to make 
her pay for what she did to you."

"Sarah!" I said, sharply, without realizing my tone was very 
hard, almost dangerous.

For a moment she was taken back by my tone, instinctively 
recoiling, before she collected herself. I didn't want to 
frighten her, so I calmed down. I just couldn't believe the kind 
of talk I was having while she, a girl from my childhood and 
teenage years was sitting on my lap, naked. I felt like I was in 
the Twilight Zone. Her hands moved to cup my face, and she 
gripped me fiercely, surprising me with the strength in her hands 
and fingers. In that shocking split second, I realized, being an 
orthopedist, she had built up some strength. Otherwise, how were 
you going to set bones, even though you could get help from your 
fellow doctors? Looking at her naked form, there was no way I 
could tell she had the kind of strength she was displaying, but 
now, I saw her shoulders tense, and the muscles in her forearm 
become more pronounced. She had me in a secure grip, although she 
was being gentle. I wondered what was coming next. In contrast 
with the measured strength she was displaying, her gray eyes were 
soft, and moist with sadness. She kept her eyes on me, waiting 
for me to react. I relaxed myself further, trying to see what she 
would do. She didn't ease up a bit, but her eyes were getting 
more moist, and in a few minutes I was sure she would be crying.

"Listen to me carefully, Mitch. If I was a conniving little shit, 
I would do my best to steal you from--what's her name?"

"Dana," I whispered.

"From Dana. You're a lucky man for two, no, three reasons. First, 
Dana. I wouldn't do something like that to _any_ woman. Second, 
I'm not in love with you, although I love you, in a different 
way. And third, Kathy."

She gave a searching look to see how I took her explanation, and 
I gave a quick nod. She was mulling something in her mind, and 
after a short pause she said, "I need to ask something, Mitch. I 
don't know anything about what happened in the past, but your 
reaction tells me a lot. Please, don't take my question wrong, 
Mitch, but I'm wondering if Dana knows about your other girl?"

"Why do you ask that?" I responded.

"Because, you're my friend, Mitch, and based on your reaction I 
suspect you might have felt it necessary to talk about your past 
if your relationship is serious. I know that much about you."

She waited, challenging me to deny it, her expression changing 
very little. When I didn't deny or respond, she prompted, "I'll 
take that as a yes."

I wasn't sure what she was getting at, so I gave a short nod, 
confirming it.

"Thank you. That means she knows how you feel about that 
little... about your other girl. You must love each other, if 
you've talked about something you react to so strongly, and yet, 
she accepts you. Dana is a girl you've met and love," she said 
pointedly, pausing dramatically. "Kathy is your sister, your 
blood."

I knew that. From Kathy's reaction last night, she felt exactly 
the way Sarah had said. At least, I had started talking with 
Kathy. I wasn't sure if I would ever talk about the past or if it 
would be necessary, but it was too early for that.

"Sarah, I know I haven't talked much with Kathy, but it's getting 
better, and it's complicated. Kathy knows it, now. I'm not going 
to hurt my sister." Pausing, I calmly added, "I'm not going to 
hurt your sister."

Her grip didn't ease at all, but hearing what I said, she lowered 
her face and kissed me gently, then breaking the kiss she said, 
"Thank you, Mitch. This is between us. If you want to talk about 
your past, it will remain here. I hope nobody gets hurt, and that 
includes Dana as well."

Straightening, she released her hold, putting her hands on my 
shoulder, and continued. "As I said, I'm not a conniving little 
shit. I just wish I could say I'm not going to ask more from you 
than what you've given me tonight, after learning how complicated 
your life is. But, I have to be true to myself; I want you. 
Tonight, and any night you want me; no strings attached. However, 
after what I just did, and considering your situation, I'll 
understand if you don't want to do anything the rest of the 
night."

"I'm not going to hold it against you, Sarah. After all that is 
said and done, I'm more worried about hurting you. Let me worry 
about my life and my decisions."

"You're worried I might fall in love with you?"

I nodded.

"Mitch, I don't easily fall in love. I am too horny for my own 
good and too independent. Maybe it's because I got over my 
shyness late, and am trying to catch up. I have a little problem 
with some of the guys, the ones that see a blonde bimbo, only, 
instead of the other things. But I'm getting good at recognizing 
those annoying bugs. At least, a few of them have been fun in the 
bed," she replied with a lecherous grin.

"I'll settle down, eventually, but not now. Kathy and I are 
alike, but also different. Maybe that's why we get along so well. 
I'm pretty sure Kathy will locate the right guy for me before I 
do. Your sister looks after me. She always did, even when we were 
young. You're right, you know. She's my sister, the sibling I 
never had."

"As you are her sister."

"You knew that?"

"It's hard to miss it, when you did what you did, Sarah. But I 
can't afford latitude to either of you. Don't take it the wrong 
way, but you've both been allowed too much, already."

She was quiet for a while, thinking over what I said, but her 
gaze never wavered.

"Yes. You're right. I'm sorry. I didn't want to stir things up. I 
guess it's rubbed off on me from Kathy."

"I wonder how that happened?" I quipped, making her laugh and 
relaxing the atmosphere.

"Hmmm... OK, let's stir something else. Why don't you use that 
stick, and stir my insides?" she came back.

"I have twelve sticks. Which one are you talking about?" I asked 
with a grin, while displaying my hands with the fingers 
stretched, and extending my tongue.

Giggling, she replied, "The big one that I'm marinating."

"Oh, that one. Yeah, sure. Let me get some condoms."

"Mitch, no need for that."

"Sarah, I told you, I had unprotected sex."

"I know that, Mitch. I also know what I'm doing is against what I 
just preached, but we both know the score there. In fact, if 
she's the kind of girl she is, she'll be already making 
arrangements for a test. I could book an appointment for you, for 
Tuesday. Are you interested?"

"Yes, of course, but why?"

"Well, it will solve several problems. You'll be able to tell 
Dana and prove you're clean, and I'll be also in the clear after 
what I'm planning to do tonight. That will save me a new test, 
but I'm not concerned. I told you I got tested recently. Dana 
will probably respond in kind if she hadn't already done 
something about it."

"Why did you go to such lengths?"

"You're still scared of me falling in love with you, aren't you? 
Relax. I'm pretty active, but careful about it. If any of my 
partners want to have sex without protection I have to trust them 
that they won't engage in casual unprotected sex with somebody 
else. Even though some of them tested clean I still insisted on 
condoms. I did the test after my last relationship just to be 
sure. Since then, my only companion had been my battery driven 
friends. It also worked nicely for us. If you were a serious risk 
factor, I would get you tested and hope for a second try, but I 
was ready to settle for protected sex. I enjoy flesh to flesh as 
much as a man. After what Kathy was telling me and not telling 
me, I guessed you weren't very active and probably being very 
careful about it. You were a pretty level headed and cautious 
guy, when we were young. I guess I'm a lucky girl."

She was being very cautious about her sex life, but then she knew 
about the dangers more as a doctor.

Then, she quipped, bringing us back to the subject at hand... 
umm... the marinated cock under her ass. "I think the oven is at 
the right temperature and the meat is marinated properly. It's 
time to get cooking."

With a chuckle, I asked, "What are we cooking?"

"Stuffed Sarah, of course. What did you think?" she retorted, 
without skipping a beat, and making me laugh.

Getting serious, I asked, "You want to lie on the table or take 
the driver's seat and chauffer us?"

"Hmmm... Good question... Just sit tight and let me drive. When I 
get tired, you can take over."

She stood up, allowing me to pull the chair a bit further away 
from the table then straddled me again, guiding my cock slowly 
into her box, and lowered herself down, taking my whole length in 
a single stroke, and sat down on my lap. She was tight but not 
excessively, however, she was so wet, I had glided in without any 
difficulties. Holding onto my shoulder, she kissed me, and then 
started to rock herself, back and forth, stirring her insides 
with my cock. She kept the rocking motions and her wiggling 
interspersed with slow up and down motions. I cupped her ass 
cheeks and helped her with the up and down motions, as I couldn't 
do any moves myself due to the position except hunching up a 
little bit. The rocking motion was better, since I could 
contribute more, and that seemed to suit her as well. I wasn't 
sure how much stimulation she was getting from that back and 
forth, but it seemed to heat her up nicely.

She locked her hands behind my neck and leaned back offering her 
tits, and letting me pull and push her ass while she tried to 
rock back and forth. I started to work on her tits with my lips 
and tongue, sometimes nipping her nipples gently with my teeth, 
and she seemed to enjoy my attentions. After a while she pulled 
herself to my chest, plastering her tits against my chest and we 
kissed. Her breath was coming in short gasps and pants, and her 
pussy was starting to get active. She didn't have Dana's muscle 
control, and I realized she was getting closer to her orgasm.

"Can you take over? I'm close. I want to feel you stroke," she 
said.

I managed to get off the chair, with her hanging on my neck, and 
my hands supporting her, cupping her shapely ass. As I stood up, 
she wrapped her legs around my waist, and I took a step to the 
table, and gently sat her ass on the edge of the table. She 
released her lock around my waist, but kept her knees up, her 
feet urging me to start stroking.

While kissing deeply, I started to stroke into her, although I 
wasn't in a comfortable position. After the kiss, she half turned 
and pushed away the plate and our cups to the side of the table, 
and I gently draped her on the table. She shivered as her back 
made contact with the cold surface. Hooking her legs on my arms, 
I lifted them, but she put her ankles on my shoulders, allowing 
me a better position. While running my hands over her legs from 
her feet down to the top of her thighs, I took long, slow 
strokes, enjoying the way her tits shook. After a few minutes she 
closed her eyes, and started to pant and moan. Leaning over, I 
teased her tits, while stroking her at a steady pace, watching 
her reaction carefully.

As my strokes became more powerful, her hands gripped the edge of 
the table, to prevent her body from sliding. The surface of the 
table had become slippery from her sweat. A small puddle was 
forming on the floor with her juices dripping from her ass at the 
edge of the table, and my balls were wet. Every time I stroked 
in, we could hear the wet slapping sound. Getting a good purchase 
on the edge of the table, she started throwing her ass at me, 
using her feet and ankles on my shoulders as support. I was 
surprised with her energy, but was enjoying it very much. I moved 
my hand to the top of her pussy, and started to work on her 
clitoral hood, pressing down, and massaging it. With the extra 
stimulation she started to falter in her efforts, and began 
moaning. I increased the pace of my stroking and felt her pussy 
go crazy, accompanied by a soft moan that turned into a wail.

Even though she had sucked me off expertly, and had taken the 
edge off, I found myself getting close. I wanted to hold out to 
continue and make her cum a second time, but I realized I was too 
far gone to be able to stop myself. The visual stimulation was 
too much. After so many years, I had this beautiful girl's body 
draped on top of the table, shaking and trembling in orgasm, and 
screaming her pleasure. How many times had I imagined her body 
under mine while masturbating to the images conjured up in my 
mind's eye? As her pussy started its involuntary milking action, 
I gave in to the physical stimulation, without trying too hard. I 
kept up the long strokes to keep pleasuring her, and her milking 
action carried me over. After the first strong bursts, I stroked 
hard and deep, and stayed inside her, while working my thumb over 
the top of her pussy, and pumped the rest of my cum into her, 
while teasing and pulling on her nipple.

It was something to watch her come; her chest, neck and face 
flushed deep red, her body thrashing on top of the table, eyes 
closed, and a soft moan escaping her half open lips. As she 
started to come down, I eased up with my massage of her clitoris, 
and stroked her belly, feeling the tremors, and my other hand 
stroked her tits, running over them softly, before I caressed her 
cheeks. Slowly she opened her eyes, which had a soft and 
lethargic look, instead of the burning passion and lust she had 
had the last few times. However, the gray color was tinted with a 
strange hue, and I realized she still had more lust hidden 
beneath that lethargy. I ran my hands from top of her thighs to 
her feet, feeling the trembling in her legs; the after effects of 
her fading orgasm coursing through them, the muscles tired from 
the strain.

I moved her feet off my shoulder, supporting her legs on my arms 
under her knees, spreading her legs comfortably, and leaned in to 
kiss her. We had to break our kiss several times, because she was 
still out of breath. She was also starting to squirm, and I 
realized the edge of the table must be biting hard at her ass, so 
straightening up, I eased her along the length of the table, and 
getting a grateful look for my efforts.

"It was starting to hurt. I didn't feel it before, but now, it 
was getting uncomfortable."

I leaned over her body, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, 
and locked her feet on my lower back, securing me over her. We 
kept kissing and caressing each other, enjoying the feel of each 
other's body. For the first time, I noticed how her eyes changed 
color, perhaps because of the angle the ceiling lights hit them; 
she had blue-green tints distributed unevenly, even though the 
gray was the predominant color. As I looked at her, I could 
hardly believe that I had just finished making love to this 
beautiful girl, who had been a good friend, but also the leading 
star of my masturbation fantasies.

_Maybe there's a God somewhere, after all._

Now, I understood better, what it was like to fantasize and then 
have your fantasies realized. I hadn't thought of Sarah over the 
years, but she had. Compared to what I felt now, what she felt 
must have been much more. I could understand why she had reacted 
the way she did in her bedroom.

"What are you thinking, Mitch?" she asked softly.

I didn't realize I was lost in thought, until I heard her 
question.

"That there was perhaps a God, after all," I replied, with a 
small smile.

When she heard it, she smiled back. "I guess. If I had known he 
was around and listening I would have come with a list," she 
quipped.

"I think you come quite vocal, Sarah, not with a list. If he 
heard your screaming, he would be deaf by now," I retorted.

She started to laugh, and I felt her quivering tits rub against 
my chest, exciting me.

When her laughter subsided, she said, "I don't believe how much 
we both changed, Mitch. Here I am, freshly fucked and we're 
trading jokes. I would have never imagined something like that."

"I guess that's what happens when a clown and a beautiful singer 
who butchers songs with an awful voice get together," I quipped, 
making her laugh again. This time however, she was laughing too 
hard and I got dislodged from her snug and juicy pussy.

"Damn. You see what you did?" she complained good naturedly.

Then, we heard a soft splatter, the unmistakable sound of trapped 
fluids dripping on to the floor, joining the small puddle that 
was already there.

"Nope, but I heard it!" I quipped.

She shrieked before starting to laugh again. When she calmed 
down, we kissed, this time with a gentle passion.

"You are fun, Mitch. You were such a quiet, shy boy, and now... I 
still can't believe the trick you pulled at the door, and then in 
the kitchen."

"I'm not sure what I pulled can be called a trick, but a prick," 
I said, giving her a mischievous look.

She tried to hold herself from breaking into laughter, but 
started to shake again in amusement.

"Give me a break, Mitch. I plastered the floor with our juices, 
but I don't want to pee."

"Our juices, OUR JUICES..." I intoned, with a feigned 
indignation.

"Stop it, you rat! I'm going to pee the whole place down."

"Hmmm... Golden showers? I heard about them, but never 
experienced them. Kinky!" I teased.

"Please, don't. I'm really going to pee the place," she said, 
trying to control her laughter, and I realized, she was serious.

So I kissed her, while caressing her to calm her down.

"You want to get up?" I asked.

When she nodded, we disengaged, and I helped her to her feet, 
being careful not to let her step onto the puddle and slip. When 
she looked down, she was surprised, and chuckled in amusement, 
and she was still dripping our juices, her thighs had wet tracks.

"Why don't you run a bath for us, while I clean the table and 
floor?" I asked.

"Just give me a few minutes, and I'll do it, Mitch."

She looked like she needed to visit the bathroom.

"Come on, Sarah. It's no big deal. Do you want to stay here and 
water the floors?" I quipped.

"Don't. You rat."

"I can tickle you, you know, if you stay here a bit longer," I 
teased. Then with a serious tone, I added, "Sarah, I really don't 
mind it. Go ahead. While you're there, draw us a hot bath."

Seeing I was serious, she nodded her agreement, then gave a soft 
kiss, saying, "You're a dear, Mitch. Check the fridge. There 
should be a bottle of champagne. When you're finished, bring it 
over."

"Umm... Do you mind white wine instead of champagne?"

"Sure, much better. There should be a Chardonnay in there, 
somewhere."

When she left for the bathroom, I cleaned the table, the floor 
and the chair I was sitting earlier on. Satisfied everything was 
spotless, I rummaged in her fridge, and got the bottle of 
Chardonnay. I prepared a tray with the glasses and the wine and 
went to the bathroom. Sarah was sitting on the edge of the tub, 
waiting for it to fill. From the looks of her, she had washed 
herself before filling the tub. She reached and closed the toilet 
seat cover, so that I could set the tray on it. I filled the 
glasses and gave her one. The tub was almost half filled, so she 
stepped in, and sat at one end. I followed her, and she asked me 
to sit opposite to her. Once I was settled comfortably, she slid 
down, and put her feet on my chest, getting comfortable. With her 
tits still out of water, and her shapely feet on my chest, she 
wiggled her dainty toes, teasing my nipples. She knew how she 
looked and how to slowly tease and arouse. When the tub was 
filled up to her satisfaction, she reached for the taps and 
closed them.

Putting my glass aside on the floor, I took hold of a foot, and 
massaged it, making her moan with pleasure. When she closed her 
eyes, I played with her toes, and licked them making her shriek 
with surprise, her eyes opening. Her eyes were starting to 
glitter with lust again. She was not only a blonde bombshell but 
a simmering sex pot, already getting heated up by that little 
teasing, so I eased up, and returned massaging her feet and toes, 
sensually. While I was busy with her foot, her other foot was 
busy, teasing me, working up and down my chest and going all the 
way down to stimulate my cock. I was getting a nice stiffy from 
her attentions. After a while I switched to her other foot, as 
she continued to play with me using her foot. In the meantime, 
she was caressing her tits and teasing her nipples, giving me a 
visual banquette. When her nipples were as hard as they could 
get, her hand dived between her legs, no doubt to stir her honey 
pot. After several long minutes, she was getting worked up, so 
she slowed down, not to go too fast, and enjoy sharing the bath.

"Sarah, honey. Why don't you move over here?"

I sat up a bit, pulling my knees and spreading them, to give her 
a comfortable seat. She gave me her glass and I put it down next 
to mine on the floor, while she moved between my legs, with her 
back resting on my chest. My cock was trapped against the top 
part of her ass. As she rested her head on my shoulder, I started 
to massage her tits. Reaching around I took my glass and sipped 
my wine, while caressing and playing with her body.

"You know what, I can spend the rest of the night here, like 
this," she said softly.

"Are you tired?" I asked, surprised by her statement.

"Oh, no. I'm still horny, but this is nice. There are a few 
things we still have to do, but this is a nice break," she said, 
cryptically.

"What kinda things?"

"Oh, you'll see. There's no hurry." Turning her head, she kissed 
me, then asked, "Can you make me cum slowly?"

So I gently worked on her pussy. I didn't know what she was 
planning, however I didn't want to work her pussy hard and make 
it sore while trying to make her come. Feeding her sips of wine 
from my glass, and with occasional kisses, I worked her tits and 
pussy gently until she was on the brink. Before I could take her 
over, she stopped me. Raising up, she grabbed my already hard 
cock, and slid it inside her. Once she was settled down 
comfortably on my lap, I continued working on her pussy, and ever 
so slowly brought her over, feeling her pussy spasm, and a gentle 
orgasm coursing through her. The only sound she made was a quiet 
moan, as her body trembled and shivered. Unlike her other 
orgasms, this was protracted, and long, but not as strong or 
sharp as her earlier ones. When it was over, she sighed. We 
shared a long sensual kiss, then continued to drink our wine, 
finishing our glasses. I was still hard, throbbing inside her, 
but I was nowhere near coming. It was a pleasant feeling to be 
connected to her like that.



* * * * *


(continued in next part, 5/5)
<4th attachment end>


<5th attachment, "tfauc-pt-04.txt" begin>






Title: Tales from an Unknown Corner
Chapters: 17-20 (of 20)
Author: Dai_wakizashi
Universe: Tfauc
Summary:  Journey of a troubled young man looking for a path and 
people around him, who, at times, give shape to his journey.
Codes: MF, FF, MFF, oral, anal, toys, petting, romance, drama
Status: in progress
Revision: 2.0

Web Sites:
  ASSTR-  http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/dai_wakizashi/www/
  SOL-        http://storiesonline.net/home.php
  EWP-       http://www.ewpub.org/ewpub.html

Discussion Forum:
   http://www.ewpub.org/messageboard/viewforum.php?f=76

*****************************************************************

STANDARD DISCLAIMER

This piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment. It 
contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are 
offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT 
read any further.

All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to any 
persons, places, individuals or situations is purely coincidental. 
The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the 
activities described in this story.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without 
the written permission of the author, Dai_wakizashi 
(dai_wakizashiAThotmailDOTcom).

This story may be freely distributed with this disclaimer 
attached.

Copyright (c) 2003-2004 Dai_wakizashi. All rights reserved.

*****************************************************************



              TALES FROM AN UNKNOWN CORNER  [Tfauc]



CHAPTER - 17: The Trip Continues



The water in the tub was warm and soothing. Apparently my hands 
were also soothing, prompting Sarah to say, "You have magical 
hands, Mitch. Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Depends on the question, Sarah."

"You haven't been with many women, have you?"

"I think you know the answer to that question, Sarah. Why do you 
ask?"

"You're very good. How come?"

"Umm... I don't think I'm that good, Sarah. I just enjoy giving 
pleasure, because it's part of the pleasure I take from my 
partner."

"Oh, no, Mitch. You're good. I don't mean you are world's best 
lover, but you know what you're doing. I'm curious where or how 
did you learn... since you haven't been around... like that thing 
you've done a while ago, with your fingers..."

"Oh, that... Heh. Would you believe if I said I read about it?"

"Really? Where?"

"In one of those men's magazines. They don't contain only 
pictures of naked girls, but have some interesting articles. Like 
all men, I enjoy sex, and I've always been curious once I 
discovered what sex is. I think I must have read a lot. When you 
are shy and curious you do what you can to satisfy your 
curiosity. I guess it helped."

"I'd say... I never came that strong in my life. I think you 
found my G-spot."

"I guess. I don't remember all the names and such, except the 
common knowledge things. When I had read about it, I had labeled 
it as the ON switch."

"Very funny, Mitch," she retorted, indignantly.

"I'm not trying to be funny, but you have to admit, it acts like 
that."

Laughing, she said, "Yeah, I guess you have a point there."

"Oh, I don't have a point, but you have a spot," I retorted.

"Don't start again, Mitch. I'll make you regret it, even if it 
means Kathy will skin me alive," she warned, with a soft laugh.

"Not before I make you pee," I challenged.

"You probably could, but as I said. I'll make you regret it. I 
know a great deal about male anatomy. Tonight is for fun, not for 
challenges."

"OK. Let's talk about something interesting."

"Like what?"

"I think you'll like this, since you said you were a horny little 
thing and like to fantasize. Tell me fantasies you have, or the 
kinky things you like to do."

When she heard that, she twisted slightly to turn and look at me, 
her eyes glittering with... I didn't know what, but she seemed 
amused. Then, she leaned to the side of the tub, to face me 
comfortably. However, she immediately recoiled from the cold feel 
of the tub. I put my arm around her, and nudged her to lean 
against my arm to my side. She rearranged herself on my lap, and 
settled against my arm and chest, in a half sideways sitting 
position.

"You're bad, Mitch. A real bad boy," she said, with a fake 
rebuking tone. "You'll experience one or two tonight, so I'd 
rather not talk about it. We already did the big one."

"Yeah, we did, didn't we? God, I never expected that. OK, so that 
covers the fantasies. What about kinks? You don't have any?"

She laughed. "Getting impatient?"

Her eyes kept its gaze on my face, amused, teasing.

"I can wait. I'm just curious. In many ways you're a wild girl, 
Sarah. I'm pretty sure you have a wild imagination. Perhaps, I'm 
thinking you're a wild girl, because you've changed so much from 
that shy girl."

"You're not bad yourself, Mitch. You were the one who started the 
whole tampon scene, not me, although it was one of my fantasies."

"Oh, I'm plain vanilla type guy. It was just a spur of the moment 
thing."

"If that was a spur of the moment thing, then you have real 
potential. It takes one to know one," she came back, making me 
laugh.

Her eyes got distant, and she was quiet for a while making me 
wonder what she was thinking.

"A penny for your thoughts," I prompted her.

"Make it a dollar, and you've got it," she retorted, making me 
chuckle.

"Done! So, what's on your mind, Sarah?"

"I was wondering when I'll find a skilled partner like you 
again." Then she looked up, and I could see the lust in her eyes. 
With a smile, she said, "I wish I knew your girl friend."

"Why do you say that?" I was surprised with her comment and 
curious.

"I don't know. You asked about fantasies and kinks. I've done 
some things, but have never been in a relationship where I shared 
a guy with another woman. If I knew her and felt she wouldn't 
mind, I would probably gather my courage to ask to borrow you, 
now and then."

"Mmmm... That's most men's fantasy; to have several beautiful 
girls at his beck and call. I didn't think girls would be 
interested in such a thing."

"Oh, that's because women are competitive when it comes to their 
men. Unless they're very secure, and have similar fantasies. And 
if they were scared of sharing, such a relationship wouldn't 
work."

"I guess. I'm curious, Sarah. Would you do something with a woman 
or is it just sharing the guy with another woman?"

"You have a very dirty mind, Mitch," she replied with an 
admonishing tone. Her mind was busy, and after a short pause she 
added, "It's just sharing the guy, although... I have thought 
about women... but never did anything about it. I don't know. I 
never felt like experimenting with a woman."

"Well, I have to admit, there's something very erotic and 
appealing about seeing two women together."

My dick throbbed at the image of Sarah with another woman, locked 
in a hot 69. Of course she felt it and started to laugh. "You're 
kinky, Mitch. I can feel how your dick throbs at the thought of 
me with another woman. Who's the other woman?"

"I don't know. It's kinda blurry image of you and some unknown 
woman locked in a hot 69."

Her eyes got a bit glassy, as if she was trying to look at 
herself in that imaginary scene. Her eyes focused back on my 
face, and I could see she was heated up. The idea didn't turn her 
off.

"So, what was happening in your imaginary scene?" I asked, with a 
grin.

"I rather not say," she replied, with a lecherous grin.

"Wow. If you're getting bashful with a little bit of an imaginary 
scene, it must be really something. Now, I'm curious," I teased.

"Oh, the scene was hot, but I'm not getting bashful about it. 
I'll tell you, later. Then, you'll understand."

"OK. Shall we retire to the bed? We're going to turn into 
prunes."

"Yes, the bed will be more comfortable."

While I collected the glasses and the wine bottle, and returned 
them to the kitchen, Sarah went to the bedroom. Thinking about 
how thirsty she got after sex, I took two big bottles of water 
from the fridge, and put them on the tray with two glasses, 
taking the tray to her bedroom. She had the comforter neatly 
folded and placed on the chair and was picking up a large towel 
from her wardrobe. When she saw the tray, she smiled.

"Thank you, Mitch. Can you fold the blanket and the sheet and put 
them at the foot of the bed? The room is warm. I'll turn the heat 
down later."

I set the tray on the night stand, and gathered the blanket and 
the sheets, stacking them at the foot of the bed. She unfolded 
the big towel until it was double folded and put it in the middle 
of the bed, while explaining, "I don't want to sleep in a wet 
spot, and the way I juice up, it's almost impossible not to have 
a big wet spot."

She took out a few small towels and stacked them next to the tray 
on the night stand. The biggest surprise was, when she opened the 
drawer, and took out two plastic, cylindrical objects--vibrators. 
One was fatter than the other. Turning them on, she tested the 
batteries, then placed the fat one back into the drawer, leaving 
the slim one out. Then, she took out a tube of lubricant. I was 
wondering what she was planning, seeing the items. When she saw 
me watching her, she quipped with a teasing smile, "Want me to 
try this on you?"

"No, thank you very much! What are you planning?"

"Patience, my dear. You'll see."

Moving to the middle of the bed, she arranged herself on her 
back, knees up, legs spread, and invited me between them. As I 
moved into position she took hold of my cock, and guided me in, 
without waiting for foreplay. I guess she was ready. When I was 
seated deeply in her, supporting myself over her body on my arms, 
she said, "Try to make it last as long as possible. I'm going to 
use the vibrator on my clit. I want to come a few times, with you 
inside me. I don't know if I'll ever get you in my bed again, and 
I want to make the most of it. Do you mind that I'm being so 
greedy?"

"Sarah, you're not greedy, just hungry," I replied earnestly. "I 
told you I enjoy pleasuring my partners. I want you to take your 
pleasure anyway you want. I love watching you come. You look so 
beautiful..."

She smiled, and pulled me for a kiss. After releasing me, she 
reached for the vibrator and took it. She started by running it 
around her tits and nipples, before moving it down to the top of 
her pussy. In the meantime, I started to thrust into her at a 
slow pace using long and deliberate strokes. It didn't take her 
long to reach her first orgasm. One moment she was panting and 
gasping, the next squealing her pleasure. I enjoyed watching her 
lose control, and a few minutes later her second orgasm crashed. 
Her snug pussy was getting tighter with the involuntary muscle 
spasms, helped along by the sharpness of her orgasms, and I 
luxuriated in the sensations imparted by her slick channel and 
the milking actions of her pussy. During the next half hour she 
had several small orgasms one after another, and I was amazed at 
her stamina, and how she managed to keep up.

It was quite a turn on and I was getting there, now that her 
pussy was so active. Not only that, but because she was juicing 
up so much, her smell was all around us, making me dizzy. I 
noticed she was keeping the vibrator less and less around her 
clitoris. As she started to get closer to another orgasm, I 
realized I was very close to my own impending explosion. I slowed 
down my strokes and she opened her eyes, questioning.

"I'm getting there, Sarah."

Shutting the vibrator, she put it aside, and pulled me for a 
kiss.

"Can we change position?" she asked. "I want to try doggy."

I pulled out of her, sitting on my heels, waiting for her to get 
into position. Before she moved onto her hands and knees, she 
licked her juices from my cock, and gave a few soft sucks. 
Turning around, she reached, and took the lubricant.

"When I'm in position, use this on my backside, then lubricate 
the vibrator, and work it in there."

Sarah was full of surprises. I never had a girl who was into anal 
play, although I've read about it. Getting into position, she 
raised her ass, spreading her legs, then lowered her upper body 
and chest to the bed, resting her head on her crossed arms. The 
view was great. She had a perfectly shaped ass, with her brown 
hole and dripping pussy in wanton display of feminine beauty.

I must have been lost in the view, because, she asked, "Something 
wrong?"

"Oh, no! Enjoying the view. Very much so."

She smiled and said, "Good. You'll enjoy what's coming next much 
better. I love to be fucked, while getting my ass plugged with a 
vibrator. It's one of my kinks."

"Mmmm. Sounds good. I'm sure it will feel great as well."

I took the vibrator and lubed it, and was going to start 
lubricating her brown hole, but seeing it winking there, looking 
so clean, I decided to get adventurous. Putting the lubricant 
aside, I leaned and licked her pussy from her clitoris to the 
perineum, making her gasp. Spending few minutes enjoying her 
pussy, I moved to work on her perineum. She must have enjoyed it, 
because she was giving short sharp screams and moans. Getting 
hold of her cheeks, I spread them further, taking a good look at 
her little hole. It was crinkly with very little hair around, 
light brown in color, and looked very tight. It was pulsing in 
anticipation. I blew air over the center of it, and she gasped 
with the light, teasing stimulation.

"Oh, God! Mitch," she moaned.

I was surprised how responsive she was, so I started to lick her 
around her hole, teasing her further, while blowing gently over 
the center, eliciting more moans and gasps of pleasure. When I 
finally centered my tongue on her hole, she shrieked, pushing her 
ass back, looking for more stimulation. There wasn't really any 
taste, just the taste and smell of her pussy juices that had 
leaked and collected around her ass, when she had been on her 
back. Curious, I tried to push my tongue, and succeeded to 
penetrate her a bit, getting it nipped by her tight ring. It felt 
hot and tight inside her ring, and I wondered how it would be 
like to have my cock there, the thought making my cock throb. She 
seemed to enjoy anal play, but I didn't know if she liked a cock 
there. The vibrator she had was much slimmer than my cock, 
although I wasn't large by any means (a healthy seven inches of 
average thickness), but compared to the slim vibrator I was 
larger.

As she felt my tongue wiggling in her hole, she started to push 
back more, while giving little yelps of pleasure, her body 
trembling and shivering with the stimulation.

"Gimme... Ughh... so good...tongue fuck me... give it to me..."

As she started a litany of obscenities, and got more verbal, 
broken by her moans and shrieks, I picked up the vibrator, and 
slowly pushed it inside her pussy, making her scream. When I 
turned it on and pumped it in and out of her pussy, and kept 
tonguing her tight little hole, she went crazy. I saw her upper 
body come off the bed, her head thrown back. A second later, she 
screamed her pleasure without holding back. Her little ring 
snapped on my tongue, for a short moment, before it went through 
flutters, gripping and releasing its hold on my tongue. My hands 
and fingers got wet from the juices leaking from her pussy, as 
the vibrator churned it into a frenzy. When her scream faded into 
a long moan, I slowed down my strokes into her pussy, while my 
tongue kept wiggling in her asshole, drawing her pleasure out. 
With a long sigh, she let her upper body fall onto the bed, 
suddenly overcome with the strain of her orgasm.

I eased my attentions, and pulled the vibrator out, eliciting a 
sharp gasp, but kept caressing around her pussy, while licking 
and kissing her on her ass cheeks with occasional kisses and 
licks around her hole, to bring her down slowly. After a while, 
she stretched her legs, and rolled onto her back, asking me to 
lie down next to her. When she could manage, she smiled.

"God, Mitch. You drove me crazy. That last one was too strong. I 
need to catch my breath before we do anything more."

I kissed her and gathered her in my arms, and she moved over my 
chest, cuddling with me, breathing still hard, as she rested. I 
could feel her heart beat strong and fast, hinting how strong her 
orgasm must have been. After a while, she was feeling better, so 
I sat up, and pulled her to my lap. She reached for a glass and a 
bottle of water, but she was feeling pretty weak, so I helped her 
with a glass of water. Once she satiated her thirst, she was 
perky.

"I loved what you did, Mitch, but you messed up my plans. I'm not 
complaining, mind you. You took me by surprise and I really loved 
it. Not many men would do that. I want to pleasure you but I need 
a break."

"Oh, I enjoyed myself, Sarah. It was a real turn on to see you go 
crazy. I almost came just because it was so exciting. We still 
have the rest of the night and the better part of the morning. I 
can wait."

"Oh, no. We will not wait. Not too long, unless you're tired."

"I'm fine, but I'm worried about you. You need a break."

"Yeah, I do, but not before you fuck me to pieces. Then we can 
sleep and rest. I wanted to have another one of my kinks done, 
but that has to wait. I don't think I'll be able to handle it 
now."

"What were you planning?" I asked, curious.

"I wanted to get my ass ready for a leisurely ass fuck. I wanted 
you to fuck me and come in my pussy, while working the vibrator 
in my ass. I enjoy an occasional ass fuck. It's something I 
rarely get to do, and even then usually with my vibrator, so I'm 
pretty tight back there. I wanted you to come, so that you could 
last longer there. I don't know why, but I come more intensely 
during anal play, however, I don't think I'll be able to handle 
it now."

"I think we should postpone that till later. I don't think I'll 
last too long, even though I came a few times."

"But I still want you to fuck me. Let me take the edge off, and 
we'll do that."

So, she pressed on the root of my dick, while giving a slight but 
not painful squeeze to my balls. Getting on all fours, she shook 
her ass in invitation.

"Lubricate me and use the vibrator, then fuck me. Don't worry 
about holding back, because I'm still hot."

It took me a few minutes to get her little hole lubricated and 
then plugged with the vibrator. Once it was in place, I slid my 
cock into her pussy, which was tighter than before, due to the 
vibrator in the next channel. As I bottomed in her pussy, I 
turned on the vibrator. Even with the lowest setting, I could 
feel the vibrations on my cock, and they were strong enough to 
get Sarah moaning in pleasure again.

The next twenty minutes were exquisite pleasure, as I stroked 
into her pussy, which was very tight and already starting its 
erratic palpitations. What's more, the vibrations worked into her 
pussy and added to the sensations my cock was being subjected to. 
As I got closer to releasing the pressure that was building up, I 
rotated and stroked the vibrator into her ass. Sarah responded 
with shakes and trembles at the extra stimulation, and she was 
getting more and more vocal, yelping, and shouting, urging me to 
fuck her faster.

When my balls contracted, getting ready to pump their contents, I 
pulled back--almost out of her pussy--and gave a brutal thrust, 
making her scream, as I repeated the same with the vibrator. That 
pushed her over the brink, and she came with a loud scream. As 
she kept crying out her pleasure, and wailing, her body was going 
through contortions, and it looked like the trembles and shakes 
would almost tear her to pieces. Her orgasm was that strong. Of 
course, her pussy was also very active, going through its muscle 
spasms, gripping me strongly and then releasing me, urging my 
balls to give up the boiling cum with their insistent milking 
action. The sensation quickly overwhelmed me. With a groan I 
came, with hard and strong spurts. Even though I had come a few 
times, and thought I didn't have much to give, I must have had 
some more left in me, and I pumped out what little was left in my 
balls very quickly. Although I didn't have much, my cock kept 
throbbing, trying to pump non-existent fluids, while my balls 
went through their muscle spasms, helped along by the vibrations 
spilling over from her other channel. It was a short but a very 
strong orgasm, making me grit my teeth with pleasure.

Long after my throbs ceased, Sarah was still going on strong. She 
seemed to have difficulty catching her breath, and it took me a 
while to realize that the vibrator in her ass was still on, and 
prolonging her pleasure. Lost in my own pleasure, I had forgotten 
about it. I was almost tempted to keep it running, and pump it in 
and out of her hole, to keep pleasuring her; it was such a turn 
on to see her completely lost in her pleasure. However, I took 
pity and turned off the vibrator. Then slowly, with short in and 
out strokes, I started to pull it out, watching her little hole 
work at the plastic shaft, grabbing and releasing its hold on it. 
She seemed to enjoy what I was doing, and despite her trembling, 
she responded by pushing her ass back to get more of the 
stimulation. Without the vibrations, she wasn't getting 
overwhelmed, so I kept working the vibrator in and out, until her 
orgasm ran its full course, and tapered down. When she grew 
quiet, I noticed her little ring wasn't as active as it had been. 
Gently, I pulled the vibrator out. It came out with a suction 
sound, making my cock throb with the anticipation of how it would 
feel inside that little hole. But, I was beat up, and in need of 
a long break and rest. My balls needed to recuperate, as well. 
They were feeling a bit tight, almost sore from the workout.

Wrapping an arm around her belly, I nudged Sarah, so that she 
could stretch her legs, but she was still feeling the after 
effects of her orgasm, so I had to wait a while until she 
collected herself.

"Sarah, honey. Stretch your legs, so we can cuddle and rest."

She moaned her agreement, and with my help stretched her legs, 
letting me lower her to the bed, without breaking our connection. 
Even though I had come very hard, I was semi-erect, and I wanted 
to stay inside her. Once I was on top of her, I rolled us to our 
sides, and spooned behind her, caressing her body, getting 
appreciative sighs for my efforts. When my hand was caressing her 
tits, she took hold of it, and bringing it to her lips, she 
kissed it softly, before letting me continue caressing her. She 
was still lethargic, unable to speak. While I kept on running my 
hand over her body, she fell asleep. The lethargy of fulfilling 
sex had me in its grip, too, so cupping her tit, I closed my 
eyes.



* * * * *



I came awake, a bit groggy, having dozed off for a short while. 
My internal clock was telling me it hadn't been more than half an 
hour. When my senses came fully awake, I realized I woke up to 
the damp coldness of the towel on the bed, even though the room 
was still warm. I remembered neither of us had put the heat down. 
Sarah was still asleep and we were uncoupled, my cock resting 
against my thigh. I didn't want to wake up Sarah, but I decided 
to clean us.

Carefully, I got off the bed, and took one of the small towels 
and went to the bathroom. After washing and cleaning myself in 
the shower quickly, I dried myself. I didn't have my toothbrush 
with me, so I had to improvise using my finger and toothpaste, 
performing my dental hygiene. She had some mouth wash, which I 
used to complete my ablutions. With the hot water running, I 
prepared a hot towel for Sarah, using the small hand towel I 
brought in.

Back in the bedroom, I gently rolled Sarah on her back. Although 
I took care not to wake her up, she came awake when she came in 
contact with the wet and cold spot on the big towel. She was 
still half asleep and groggy, so I helped her move to a dry spot, 
and using the hot towel, I cleaned the insides of her thighs and 
her pussy, before drying her with another small towel. Lifting 
her ass by hooking my arm under her knees, I pulled the big towel 
from under her. I collected the dirty towels and dropped them in 
the laundry basket in the bathroom. In the living room, I located 
the controls for the thermostat, and set them down to a 
comfortable but cooler 18 C. When I got back to her bedroom, I 
found her sitting up, and awake, drinking water from a glass. Her 
eyes were still sleepy, though.

When she saw me, she perked up visibly, and with a grateful but 
amused smile she asked, "Do you always pamper your lovers?"

"Sarah, love, this is not pampering. I woke up to the wet spot on 
the towel and thought I should make us both comfortable. Waking 
you up wasn't in the plan though," I replied, as I got in the 
bed, and sat next to her.

She moved in to cuddle, entwining her legs with mine, and putting 
her head on my shoulder. Kissing me on my neck, she said, "You're 
a dear, Mitch. I was so tired... I barely managed to sit up."

"How are you feeling?"

"Great, but I'm worn out. I'm still hungry for more, but I need 
to get some rest."

"God, Sarah. Are you really horny?"

"Just wanted to see your reaction. I'm not horny anymore," she 
replied, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"You're wicked."

"No, I'm not. Greedy maybe, but that has to wait. Ready to 
sleep?"

"Yeah. I set the thermostat to 18 C, is that all right?"

She nodded, before adding, "But we'll need the blanket. It will 
get cold."

She reached over and put her glass on the tray, then slid down 
the bed to pick up the sheets and the blanket. Turning to me, she 
asked, "There's a night lamp in the drawer. Can you put it into 
the wall socket?"

Putting the night light on, I got into the bed. My feet came into 
contact with the vibrator we had forgotten about, so I picked it 
up, and put it on the towels on the night stand, and turned off 
the light. After we shared a kiss, she asked me to lay on my 
back. Then, she molded herself to the side of my body; one arm 
over my chest, and a leg thrown over mine, between my legs, 
resting her head on my shoulder, letting me cuddle her in a 
comfortable half embrace. As she caressed my chest with her hand 
in a lazy manner, I stroked her body. We both fell asleep.



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 18: Two Sisters



When I woke up the next morning, I felt rested. It was sometime 
around early to mid morning, and I was on my side, with Sarah 
spooning behind me, her soft breath warming my back. She was 
sound asleep. As usual, after all the drinks last night, I needed 
a pit stop. That was going to be a problem, because I was 
sporting a morning woody, which surprised me after all the 
activity of last night. I had had a good night's sleep and was 
fully awake, feeling very much relaxed, and wanted to start the 
day. Because of the early hours I woke up on the rig-site, it 
took me a few days before my body adapted to the vacation mode. I 
must have been tired from all the activity and the alcohol I had 
consumed to sleep this late. I decided to get up, put on some 
coffee, and prepare something light to eat. I was in a domestic 
mood, wanting to pamper Sarah. I took the tray with the glasses 
and the bottles of water, and headed to the kitchen.

Passing the living room, I turned up the thermostat to warm the 
flat. In the kitchen I put the bottles of water in the fridge and 
set the coffee maker on. While the coffee was perking, I did my 
morning ablutions, with a quick shower in the bathroom. A half 
hour later I was back in the kitchen with a towel wrapped around 
me. The flat was still a bit cold, but warming up fast. Rummaging 
in the fridge, I checked what Sarah had that I could use to 
prepare something light. She had some fruit, which I could use to 
prepare a fruit salad, but I was looking for something salty, 
like cheese. Finally, tucked in a corner I located feta cheese, 
and... surprise, surprise... a box of olives; not the green 
cocktail olives, but black olives.

_Black olives. A girl after my heart. She's a true child of the 
Mediterranean._

Taking stock of my finds I decided to prepare a fruit salad using 
apples, mandarins, oranges, and of all things, bergamot (another 
surprising find, which confirmed my suspicions that she was 
really a child of the Mediterranean). Because bergamot was a 
bitter fruit (almost like grapefruit, with a great aroma), I 
decided to use a few slices of it to give flavor and aroma to the 
whole concoction. I cut off a small chunk and peeled it. I also 
cleaned a few apples, oranges and mandarins, chopped everything 
into small pieces and mixed the whole lot in a big bowl. It was 
quite bitter so, to sweeten the mix, I sliced two bananas, put a 
dollop of honey on them, and mixed them in. I liked the taste, 
sweet and sour with a bitter bite that lingered, and juicy at the 
same time. I wondered whether Sarah's taste buds would agree with 
mine, because it was a unique and unorthodox mixture.

_Well, she can put the bergamot pieces aside. The rest still 
tastes great._

Getting myself a cup of coffee, I started on the toast. When it 
was ready, I buttered the slices, distributed them between two 
plates, and added cheese and olives on the side. Getting two 
small bowls from the cupboard, I filled them with the fruit 
salad. The last item was cups of coffee. Putting everything on a 
tray, I took it to her bedroom.

When I placed the tray on the nightstand, she was awakening. 
Leaning over, I kissed her to wake her up. She stretched, then 
ran her hand through her hair and grimaced. Her hair was tousled, 
well, more than tousled, but she looked beautiful. I never 
understood the female obsession with how they looked in the 
morning. Maybe some of them had cause for concern, but Sarah 
definitely didn't belong in that group. Sure, she looked sleepy, 
her hair was messed up, but she also had a rested, relaxed look, 
with a beautiful glow to her skin.

When she sat up, I said, "Good morning, beautiful. Breakfast is 
served."

"Beautiful? I must look like a scarecrow, Mitch. Get your eyes 
checked."

"Ahh! Already fishing for compliments, I see."

That quip got a smile, and woke her up completely.

"Coffee?"

"Mmm hmm."

After a few sips of her coffee she said, "A good morning to you 
too. What a way to wake up."

"Part of the service, Ma'am," I retorted, with a grin.

"I'm not going to ask what service that is," she replied, 
flashing me an amused smile. "What's on the menu?"

"A fruit salad, and toast with cheese and olives."

"Sounds good."

After she finished her cup, she took her fruit salad. Giving it a 
sniff, she gave me a look, questioning.

"You'll not be poisoned. I can guarantee that," I said, digging 
into my own bowl of fruit salad.

She took a spoonful, doing a taste test, and finding it 
satisfactory, she started to eat. When she was finished, she 
asked, "Did you use the bergamot?"

"A small chunk. Why?"

"I thought I tasted it. Interesting choice. I liked what you did 
with it. I hope there's enough bergamot left."

"You were going to use it for something else?"

"No, it was for your sister. She's going to make orange jam, but 
she needs the bergamot to give it a bite. Makes it taste less 
sweet. Last year she gave me a jar of it, and it was delicious, 
so I thought I would get her the bergamot and get another jar of 
her orange jam."

"Oh, I didn't know she did that. That's Mom's recipe. She knows I 
don't eat jam, because it's too sweet for my taste, even though 
she uses very little sugar. When she discovered the bergamot, she 
came up with that recipe, and it was great. I think the only 
sweet thing I can eat at breakfast is honey."

"Me, too. I can eat honey, but not any of the jams, especially 
from the supermarkets. Too sweet and not enough fruit. Maybe I 
should take the bergamot to your mom," she replied with a smile.

"Sure, if you have a death wish."

"Your mom still teases Kathy about her cooking?"

I nodded. "They're on each other's case whenever one of them 
comes up with something new."

"Kathy is a very good cook."

"That maybe so, but she learned it all from Mom."

"You're prejudiced."

"I won't deny that. But then, I'm a better cook than Kathy."

"I remember. You used to spend hours in the kitchen with your 
mom. I always thought how strange to see you there, instead of 
Kathy. What got you interested in cooking?"

"Self preservation," I quipped, making her laugh.

"Come on, be serious," she responded, when she caught her breath.

"I liked Mom's cooking, and I didn't want to rely on a second 
hand imitation of her cooking from somebody less skilled. So, I 
decided to learn. It's a pretty relaxing activity; as long as you 
don't have to do it every day."

"Yeah. If you have to cook every day, it turns into a chore."

While we were chatting, she was finishing her toast with the 
cheese and olives. Seeing me watch her eat, she raised an 
eyebrow.

"I'm curious. You seem to like olives, for breakfast. I don't 
know any people that do that."

"I like them, but mostly in a salad. Same with the feta. I don't 
mind them for breakfast. Next time, try a bit of oregano on feta, 
it tastes much better. You know, my grandpa is from the islands. 
He uses oregano, olive oil and lemon twist on the olives. I guess 
I got used to olives and feta from him, when I was very young."

"I'll keep that in mind. So, you're a child of the 
Mediterranean."

She laughed. "Kind of. I wasn't even born along the coast. But 
it's in the blood."

"Hmmm... Talking about blood... Is that why you're so hot 
blooded?"

"Maybe," she replied, letting out another soft laughter. "No, not 
really. It depends on the person and how much they turn me on. 
With you there was pent up lust and hunger as well. I've never 
been like that before."

She ran her hand through her hair, and then her nostrils flared 
as if she got a whiff of something. She bent her head sniffing, 
trying to find if she smelled, then grimaced. "God, I look like a 
scarecrow, and I smell like a brothel. I need a shower."

"Sarah, you look beautiful, and you smell like you, as the room 
does."

She colored, even though I wasn't trying to embarrass her.

"Baby, come on. If you bottle and sell it as air freshener, I'm 
going to get a dozen."

"Uhh. Please. Don't remind me," she replied softly, still feeling 
a bit embarrassed.

"How were you with history lessons?" I asked, throwing a non 
sequitur.

As I expected, she gave me a confused look, before replying. "Not 
very good. I hated the stuff. All those battles and dates and 
stupid names."

"Heh... You missed out on the fun stuff. It's not all boring 
stuff. There were always colorful characters and colorful 
incidents, little anecdotes."

"Like what?"

"Take Napoleon for example. There's a story about him sending a 
messenger from the battle field to Josephine, about his return 
home."

"So?"

"Well, he still had to travel a week before he'd arrive at Paris. 
The message said: 'Don't wash up until I arrive'. There was a man 
who knew what he liked," I quipped, giving her a lecherous grin.

Sarah crinkled her nose. "Ugghh. I should have known something 
like that was coming. You men are beasts." Then with a smile, she 
asked, "I never read that in any of the history books. You sure 
you're not making it up?"

"That's the kind of thing they seem to forget to include in the 
history books. At least, the ones they use in the classrooms. I 
wonder when they'll wake up and realize they would get the 
students more enthusiastic about history if they included the 
juicy bits."

"God, you're such a perv, Mitch. When did that happen?"

"Well... There was this blonde girl I met. Hot and juicy and--"

"You rat! Don't put the blame on me," she retorted indignantly, 
but her eyes were smiling.

"OK. But I wasn't putting anything on you. In you... that's 
something else," I quipped.

She started to laugh. "My, my, my. You must be a morning person. 
Already getting frisky?"

"I can wait. How about you?" I replied, with a snort.

"Oh, I love a morning quickie, but I really want to take a quick 
shower."

That little exchange was already getting to her; her skin was 
flushed with excitement.

"Sarah, you don't have to on my account. I told you, you look 
beautiful and I love your smell. You are not _smelly_. It's you, 
all of you, and I love all of that when it touches my senses," I 
said, with a more serious tone.

"OK, stud. Give me a kiss and help me out of bed."

Putting my cup on the tray, I collected her plate and cup, and 
put them on the tray. Then I sat by her side, and pulled her in 
for a kiss. After the kiss, I didn't release her, but started to 
kiss her neck, inhaling her womanly smell. She felt what I was 
doing, and tried to wiggle out from my embrace, but I had her 
secured in my arms. There was no way she could break free, even 
with her strength, and her struggles started to work against her, 
as her tits rubbed on my chest, getting her nipples hard. I was 
pretty sure she would be starting to leak around her pussy in a 
while. When she realized she couldn't escape, she ceased her 
struggles, and I released her, giving her a long kiss. After the 
kiss, I nuzzled her neck, inhaling her smell again, and this 
time, she sighed softly, accepting and enjoying my attention. 
When I looked up, her eyes were soft.

"You make me feel so good and wet, Mitch," she said, before 
kissing me hungrily again.

Breaking the kiss, I trailed my tongue down her neck to her 
collarbone, and all the way between her tits, inhaling her. She 
clutched my head, cooing her appreciation. When I looked up, her 
eyes were getting that strange hue they had when she was aroused. 
I didn't know if she wanted to have a quickie now, because she 
had asked me to help her out of the bed, so I ceased my teasing 
to let her make up her mind.

When she felt me stop, she smiled. "Mitch, I want a morning 
quickie, but I really want to go to the bathroom and have another 
cup of coffee."

"OK. I'll start a fresh batch of coffee."

"It's warm here. Did you turn up the thermostat?"

"Yep. I didn't want to bother with clothes."

"Good. I'll join you in the kitchen."

She went to the bathroom, and I collected the tray and took it to 
the kitchen. Filling my cup with the remaining coffee, I prepared 
a new batch. As I was taking a seat, she came in and headed 
straight for me. She pulled my towel off, draping it at the back 
of the chair. When I sat down, she straddled me and plastered 
herself against my chest, resting her head on my shoulder. I 
realized she hadn't taken a shower or cleaned her self; just 
washed her face and brushed her teeth. I wrapped my arms around 
her, running my hands along her spine, making her shiver with my 
soft touches. I loved how responsive she was.

"The coffee will be ready in another ten minutes. You want a sip 
from my cup?" I asked.

"I'll wait. I like this more than coffee."

While we waited for the coffee, we kept teasing each other, 
kissing, touching. She was already juicing up, and I felt my cock 
getting wet. Her nipples were hard, digging into my chest. A few 
minutes later, she rose up, guided my hard cock into her pussy, 
and sat down slowly. Somehow, she felt hotter than last night. 
She started a slow rocking motion, teasing both of us, stoking 
the fires slowly. And then the percolator gurgled, announcing 
that the coffee was ready.

"Are you still hungry?" I quipped.

Getting my joke, she laughed. "You're such a clown, Mitch. The 
things you say." Then she added, "Yes, I'm hungry. Hungry for 
your cock. The coffee can wait. I want to have some fresh cream 
with it."

With that quip, she stood up. Picking up my cup from the table, 
she put it on the counter, emptying the table. Turning her back 
to me, she bent over the table, supporting herself on her elbows, 
and lowered her upper body. When her tits and stomach made 
contact with the table surface she hissed and shivered, from the 
cold surface. Looking back, she gave a smoldering look.

"Come on, Stud. I want some cream." She punctuated her words by 
shaking her ass.

I stood up and guided myself into her hot box, and taking hold of 
her hips, I started to stroke.

"That's good, Mitch. Keep the same pace but make it harder."

I increased the force, and we could hear the wet, slapping sound 
my balls made, accompanied by her small cries, each time I 
bottomed in her. I realized my balls were hitting her clitoral 
hood. Reaching down, I started to massage her clitoris, and she 
pushed her ass back, giving me more space to work, moaning her 
pleasure. Due to the force of my strokes, her tits were rubbing 
on the table, and she must have been enjoying that, because she 
allowed her body to be pushed back and forth along the surface of 
the table. I felt her tighten inside. She was almost there. I 
eased my efforts on her clitoris, not wanting to bring her too 
quickly, and slowed my pace.

"Faster... ugh... I'm almost there..."

"Easy, Sarah. I want you to enjoy this."

"I... ahh... am... more... please..."

When I pulled back I saw her little brown hole winking at me, 
which gave me an idea. Wetting the thumb of my free hand with 
spit, I placed it gently over her hole, and massaged it, getting 
a shriek. She pushed her ass back to get more stimulation. As her 
pussy got tighter, I increased the pace of my strokes. Capturing 
the folds of her clitoral hood between two fingers, I squeezed it 
lightly and started an up and down milking action. Sarah 
responded with a soft scream of pleasure. As she started to come 
and her pussy started its milking actions, I pressed my thumb 
inside her little hole, drawing another scream from her. Then, 
her back arched, her upper body coming off from the table. She 
started to tremble, and pushed her ass back, trying to fuck 
herself faster on my cock, increasing my own arousal. I kept 
working her clitoris, and increased the pace of my strokes, 
wanting to come. Feeling her come so strongly did something to me 
and I quickly found myself on the brink. A few more strokes, and 
I was ready to blow. As she was coming down, I took several 
brutal strokes, getting fresh moans and yelps with each of them. 
When my first spurt burst, I buried myself as deeply as possible. 
Feeling me come inside her, she started to roll her ass, trying 
to pleasure me.

"Oh, Mitch! It's... ahhh... hot... you're burning me..." she 
cried, as I continued to throb and spurt inside her.

Her asshole was tightening and relaxing around my thumb, but I 
couldn't do much because it was trapped between her ass and my 
belly, in an awkward position. I eased my attentions on her 
clitoris, playing around her pussy lips, getting my fingers wet 
with our combined juices that were leaking around my shaft. I 
moved my hand to her belly, tracing soft teasing patterns with my 
fingers, making her moan and shiver with the new stimulation. 
Leaning back, I managed to withdraw my thumb from her little 
hole, getting a moan, before pushing my cock back inside her. I 
felt her legs tremble, and leaned over her to slide both of my 
hands around her sides, caressing the outer swells of her 
breasts. I urged her to rise up a bit, so I could slip my hands 
under her tits. When she lifted her chest off the table, I cupped 
her tits, and teased her nipples mercilessly, and received moans 
of appreciation.

Releasing my hold on her tits, I slid my arm to her belly and 
gently urged her to stand up. Getting the hint, she stood, taking 
care not to uncouple us, and back stepped with me. Allowing me to 
support her weight, she spread her legs, and I sat down on the 
chair with her on my lap. Leaning against me, she sighed softly, 
before turning her head to kiss me. I kept running my hands 
around her arms, sides, and played with her tits for a short 
while, before moving them down to her pussy. She broke the kiss 
with a moan, and closing her eyes, gave herself to my gentle 
caresses, letting me bring her down.

After a while, she grabbed my hands and moved them to her tits, 
letting me cup them, and kept her hands on mine. She didn't say 
anything, but it seemed like she didn't want any more 
stimulation, preferring the gentle contact of my hands on her 
tits. It was a difficult proposition; I loved her tits, their 
soft yet firm feel, and her puffy nipples still hard, digging in 
my palms like small pebbles. We rested like that for several 
minutes quietly, until she finally broke the silence.

"Mmmm. I love what you do to me."

"It was my pleasure."

"I'm sure it was. I feel like a brand new woman. What a way to 
start the day."

"Yeah. A good cup of coffee does wonders."

She laughed, and retorted, "That too."

She wasn't going to let me score that one, but I wasn't going to 
concede defeat easily, so I said, "Ummm... Sarah? What else was 
there besides coffee?"

"A hot cunt that will fuck you to death if you're not careful. I 
might have to phone Kathy and get her permission first, though."

"You're a successful doctor, a talented singer, a lovely woman, a 
good friend, and a wonderful lover... with a hot pussy," I 
corrected her.

"Thank you," she replied, softly. Then teased with, "Flattery 
will get you anywhere."

Instead of answering, I kissed her neck and shoulders, squeezing 
her tits softly.

"God! I'm insatiable. You drive me crazy," she responded to my 
attentions.

"I think we should get a cup of coffee before it gets too old," I 
reminded.

"Yeah. I could do with a cup, but I want to clean up a bit," she 
replied, while squeezing my hands, urging me to squeeze her tits.

A few minutes later, she carefully disengaged, cupping her pussy 
with one hand so that she wouldn't drip on the floor, and headed 
to the bathroom. There was a little spot on the floor from our 
quickie, and some on the chair where I was sitting, so I cleaned 
them. Using a paper towel I cleaned myself, and then filled up a 
cup for her. By then, she was back, looking refreshed. Taking a 
sip from her coffee, she looked around as if she was searching 
for something, before her eyes settled on me. Kneeling in front 
of me, she licked my cock before sucking it into her hot mouth. 
Because I had cleaned up, there wasn't much she could lick.

"I was looking for some cream for my coffee," she said with a 
disappointed look in her eyes.

"Sorry, it will take a while to order a new batch."

"Let's go to the living room. It will be more comfortable."

She took the towel draped at the back of the chair, and we went 
to the living room. She put the towel on one of the couches, and 
asked me to take a seat. Then she went to the stereo, and put it 
on, before coming back to sit next to me, cuddling. When we 
finished our coffee, I went to her room, in search of my 
cigarettes. In the living room, I collected our cups and went to 
the kitchen to get a re-fill, and returned. Sitting next to her I 
lit my first cigarette of the day, getting dizzy with the first 
intake of nicotine. She took the cigarette from me and took a 
drag, but she didn't return it.

"I didn't know you smoked," I said.

"I don't. Not regularly. I smoke when I drink at a party or 
occasionally after sex."

"I wish I could limit my smoking as you do. That's one nasty 
habit I've been reluctant to give up."

"Well, you know the dangers, so I'm not going to lecture you."

"You know, we didn't talk much," I said, feeling guilty because 
about all we had done had been making love or fucking (depending 
on your point of view).

With a tingling laugh, she said, "Oh, but we did. Body language 
is the best kind of talk."

"Come on, Sarah. I'm serious."

She ran the back of her fingers along my cheek affectionately, 
before she responded with, "I know you are. I really don't have 
much to tell. Like your sister, I'm busy with school and the 
hospital. I spend my free time practicing the guitar or with your 
sister and other friends. I've gone through some relationships, 
but I don't really have the time to keep relationships and I 
enjoy my independence. I haven't met anybody that made my head 
spin, yet. I want to finish the school first, and then take it as 
it comes."

"I would have thought you'd find a guy by now. You know what I 
think of you, what I see, when I look at you. There should be 
some guy who thinks the same way."

"Perhaps. But as I said, I'm trying to catch up on what I missed 
when I was younger."

"Well, Kathy wasn't very active when she was young. At least, to 
my knowledge."

"True, but she got asked out and got hot and heavy a lot of 
times, even though she didn't go all the way. I didn't get to do 
that. I was shy when I was young, and self-conscious about my 
looks. When I got over that phase, quite late, the boys were 
scared I wouldn't be interested in them. And the ones that 
finally got interested were the wrong kind."

"Even in the med school?"

"Well, the first two years were difficult, then I repeated a 
year, because I was thinking of singing professionally. I was 
young and my head was filled with dreams of fame and big money. 
And I was hanging with the wrong crowd. You know the type, always 
partying, and drinking, and barely managing school, if at all. 
Kathy reminded me of our dreams, how we wanted to be doctors, 
that I could always become a professional singer, if I wanted, 
after finishing school. She was right, and managed to convince 
me. I owe her much. She spent months helping me catch up on the 
classes and bring up my grades."

I noticed her gray eyes were moist, and she was looking at 
someplace far away, as if remembering something, but I didn't 
understand how her story would make her so emotional. I got the 
feeling there was more to than she was telling me.

"Sarah, I know you're very close to each other, but why do you 
feel so strongly about her?"

"I told you I was young and foolish. The first year wasn't 
overwhelming, and I got by with little studying. I was partying 
and busy with music. I was hanging with the wrong crowd. Things 
were different in my second year, and that was when I got into 
trouble. My parents were going crazy with me, and Kathy pulled me 
aside a few times. Then she bailed me out of a tight spot during 
a party, catching somebody slipping something in my drink. That 
was an eye opener, and I realized Kathy was right, but then I was 
way behind in my classes, so I failed that semester. Kathy helped 
me with the studying, and I passed the repeat semester. In the 
meantime, Kathy's social life was suffering because of me. She 
was dating a guy, and they broke up because Kathy was busy with 
me and didn't have time for him. How did I pay her? By failing 
the next semester. She was very angry, rightly so. I thought she 
would turn her back on me, but instead she kept helping me with 
my studies. So I finished the second repeat semester, and after 
that I got a handle on things."

"I see... It cost Kathy her guy... Was he worth it?"

"No. But neither of us knew it at the time. The point is, the guy 
wasn't the only thing I cost Kathy. After the break-up, he 
started to date another girl; a spoiled little rich bitch. You 
know the type, daddy's little princess. Her daddy was another 
piece of work. He was a professor in the med school. Once Kathy 
realized the guy wasn't worth her trouble, she got over him 
pretty quickly. However, he was hung up on Kathy. The little 
bitch he was dating was jealous, because her guy was still hung 
up on Kathy. So what does the little bitch do? She manipulates 
her daddy and sets him against Kathy. Kathy's third year turned 
into hell. Nothing she did was good; her work was below average, 
etc. That bastard even managed to influence a few other 
instructors as well and turned them against her. Kathy's hands 
were tied. She could have fought, but even if she had won, she 
would have lost. In the medical world reputation is everything. 
They don't look favorably upon students who embarrass a 
professor."

"So, how the hell did she survive?"

"That prick of a professor got an attractive offer from a private 
practice in another city, and decided to take it. His daughter, 
the little bitch, suddenly found she was failing exams, so she 
quit school. With those two gone, the negative criticism pretty 
much stopped. There were other professors and assistant 
professors who were quite fond of Kathy and her work, and 
suddenly they found they could voice their opinions without fear 
of repercussions. Slowly the others who were putting Kathy down 
realized they had been taken for a ride by the bastard who left, 
and they were embarrassed. It was a minor scandal, although it 
rarely made the rounds of gossip, and few people were aware of 
what happened. I feared they would turn against her again, 
because of their part in the scandal and their embarrassment. To 
her credit Kathy never said a word or indicated she was aware of 
anything out of ordinary. I think that's what finally decided it 
for some of the professors, and they treated her fair and square. 
I know of three professors who apologized to her in private for 
the unfair treatment and their part in it. Do you know what your 
sister's reply was?"

When I shook my head, she smiled and said, "You must be mistaken. 
I'm not aware of any unfair treatment, but I appreciate your 
concerns."

"Jeeez."

"Yes. Now, that's class!"

"How the hell did you hear all that if it was kept under wraps? 
Especially about the three professors?"

"That was pure luck. One of the professors forgot that an 
intercom was open, and his secretary heard the conversation. She 
liked your sister very much. For good reasons. Kathy had spent 
several nights in the ICU when her eight year old son had been 
hospitalized, frequently at his bedside. I saw the kid a few 
times, visiting together with Kathy. The poor kid was beaten 
badly. Kathy is still fond of that kid. By the way, that's why 
she chose Pediatrics. Anyways. So, the secre--"

"Just hold on a second," I cut her off suddenly, a light bulb 
going off in my head.

"What--"

"Tell me about the kid."

"Mitch? What's wrong? Are you all right?"

I didn't realize my voice was hoarse, until I spoke again.

"I'm OK. Why?"

"You look pale."

Trying to calm myself, I tried again. "I'm all right, Sarah. 
Please, tell me about the kid. Whatever you can remember."

She gave me a curious look, while thinking back, trying to 
remember about the kid.

"He was an eight year old kid. Two kids in the playground beat 
him up. I really don't know the whole story. When I saw him he 
had many bruises. I think he was in the ICU for something else, 
and not for injuries from the beating. A blood condition or 
something."

"How did Kathy know him?"

"I think she was doing the rounds with other students in ICU as 
part of a tour of the hospital and her studies, when they brought 
in the kid. After that, every minute she could spare, she was by 
his bedside. I know that she wasn't supposed to be there, but 
somehow she managed to get in."

My mind was busy with what Kathy had told me about the time I was 
nine years old. Was her interest in that kid related to what 
happened so long ago?

_I hope not, Sis. That's too long to carry a hurt._

"Mitch, something's wrong. I can see that. Tell me what's 
bothering you."

"It's nothing, Sarah. It might be something from my past. When I 
work it out, I'll tell you, but I don't make any sense out of it 
at this moment."

"Are you sure it's not related to Kathy?"

_Shit! Bloody female intuitions!_

"To tell the truth, I'm not sure about anything, Sarah. I need to 
think about it. I don't even know if I can figure it out. Let me 
think it over, OK?"

She wasn't convinced, but she realized I wasn't going to talk 
about it.

"Uh, OK."

"Back to the story. You were saying the professor had forgotten 
the intercom was open," I prompted her.

"Yeah. So the secretary listens to the whole exchange and hears 
every word. She also knew if this got out it could cause 
problems, but she knew Kathy and I were best friends. I guess she 
must have remembered me from the time when I was with Kathy by 
her son's bed. She also knew I was worried about Kathy, so she 
spilled the beans to me, reminding me the possible consequences 
if it ever got out, as if I needed to be reminded."

"I see... So you feel responsible for all the hard times Kathy 
had. But Sarah, it seems to me that relationship was bound to 
fail. Kathy would have broken up with that guy anyway, and all 
the shit would have happened, with or without you."

"Maybe, maybe not. They might have broken up, but then it could 
have happened under different circumstances, without all the 
other things coming into play. If Kathy had broken up with him 
later, that little bitch and her asshole daddy would have been 
gone already. It's difficult to say. I know this much. It 
happened and it cost her."

"I don't think you should feel guilty about something like that, 
Sarah. Kathy is very loyal, and she was loyal to her friend. She 
would have done it whether you asked for it or not. It wasn't 
your decision. It was her decision."

"I understand that, Mitch. What I feel isn't because of what she 
had to go through. Not really. She helped me and I failed her. I 
should have stood on my own two feet after passing that semester, 
but I failed a second time, because I wasn't giving it my best. 
She had to help me again, while all that shit was going on around 
her. That's what bothers me."

"She loves you, Sarah. And you make allowances for people you 
love. What can I say, that's Kathy. You know her better than I 
do."

"Yes. That's why I love her."

While listening to her, my mind was busy with that revelation, 
trying to make some sense out of it.

"You said that was during her third year?"

"Yes."

_Shit! That was my Senior Year; when I was keeping busy with 
school and the part time job. When I was going to pieces after 
her, lost in my own little world. I was so involved with myself, 
I hadn't noticed anything. I wouldn't have. Shit. Shit. Shit._

"Sarah, did my parents know what was going on at the school? The 
trouble with the professors and such?"

"I don't think so. I know she got some flack from your mom, but 
she also knew Kathy wasn't dawdling around. She was studying, and 
all her spare time was spent helping me study. So, your mom 
couldn't fault her. I think Kathy told them the med school was 
much harder than she thought it would be."

I lit another cigarette, and took a drag, thinking over what 
Sarah said.

_Yeah. That figures. She wouldn't want Mom upset, and she was 
helping Sarah. Mom liked Sarah, and still likes her. Kathy 
probably didn't want Mom to blame Sarah for what happened. So she 
gave Mom the impression that her problems were with difficult 
schoolwork, not a result of any unfair treatment, or time spent 
helping Sarah. Seeing Kathy give her best effort at school was 
enough for Mom, whether Kathy succeeded or not. Mom's only 
expectation at such times was 'give your best'. She had always 
been fair and reasonable in her expectations for her kids._

_Jeeez! Kathy didn't have anybody to talk to. Fuck!_

_I'm sorry, Sis. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you._

_What a pair of siblings we are. Secret after secret. Juggling 
act all along. I know I did it out of love... I didn't want to 
worry, or hurt you... or Dad, or Mom, for that matter. I didn't 
want to burden anybody with my problems._

_Now it seems, you did the same._

I hadn't realized how alike Kathy and I were, until that moment. 
We had been competitive, successful, and determined. We loved and 
cared about each other and showed it. But, we also kept things 
secret, not to burden the other.

"Mitch, do you remember what I said to you, yesterday?"

"Huh?"

"When I reminded you Kathy is your blood, I also told you that 
you can talk to me, and it will stay here. I can see something's 
bothering you. Very much. I have the feeling it's about Kathy, 
and you know how I feel about her. Are you sure you can't talk to 
me?" she asked softly with an almost pleading tone, urging me to 
talk to her.

I don't know why, but I felt tired, and old; older than my young 
years. Friendship, love, trust, and secrets made for a lousy 
combination. Sarah was a good friend. When we were young, she had 
been the first girl I felt comfortable talking to. Perhaps, 
because we had known each other for a long time as kids, and 
later, as teens. She had been a constant figure around Kathy, a 
face I was used to seeing. But, I never had serious talks with 
her; only about common interests like music, books, and school 
stuff, the daily things. She was, after all, my sister's best 
friend and we had never been boyfriend and girlfriend. 
Considering how shy I had been, Sarah had been a special case.

I thought about how I should answer her question; I didn't want 
to evade her, she deserved better. With a tired sigh, I said, 
"It's not about Kathy, Sarah. It's about me. I wasn't there for 
her when she needed me."

She didn't say anything, instead, she ran her hand on my arm, 
trying to give some comfort.

"Sometimes things happen, Mitch. I told you my story."

"Yes. You're right. Sometimes things happen. You're a good 
friend, Sarah. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied, before sharing a long kiss.

We spent the next several minutes in quiet solitude, finding 
comfort in each other's presence, cuddling, before Sarah broke 
the silence.

"I'm going to take a shower. Do you want to join me?"

"Sure. Do you have a spare toothbrush?"

"I think I have one in one of the cabinets in the bathroom."



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 19: Virgin Tales



Putting out our cigarettes, we went to the bathroom. Sarah found 
an unopened toothbrush and we shared the small sink brushing our 
teeth. It was a very domestic image, and I chuckled at it 
internally. Afterwards, we had a quick but enjoyable shower, 
working each other up. When she asked me to wash her backside, it 
became obvious what she was planning. Back in her bedroom, she 
took another big towel and put it in the middle of the bed, 
before we got down to business... umm.. pleasure.

Although both of us were looking forward to what was coming, for 
some reason we took it very slow, spending the next half hour or 
more caressing and stroking each other. Eventually, Sarah urged 
me between her legs, and guided me inside her for a long and 
languorous session. We kept at it for quite some time, and Sarah 
was being careful not to excite me too much. In the meantime, she 
had two mild and relatively quiet orgasms. Then she positioned 
herself on her hands and knees, and asked me to prepare her 
backside using the slim vibrator. Remembering how she reacted to 
my tongue last night I decided to repeat it. Needless to say she 
enjoyed my attentions and came strongly when I started using the 
vibrator in her tight backdoor.

After she caught her breath, she took the lube, and started 
coating my cock.

"This is your first time, isn't it?"

When I nodded, she quipped, "Goody! A virgin. My lucky day."

"You're such a tease," I retorted.

"That I am. But you can't imagine what a turn on this is for me. 
I've lusted after you, and now I'll be your first piece of ass, 
literally," she replied.

 From the strange hue in her eyes, I could see she was extremely 
turned on with the idea. I had seen how much she enjoyed last 
night, and what we just did, so I knew she was going to have a 
blast.

"Now, couple of things. Although you're thicker than the 
vibrator, you should be able to fit in without too much 
difficulty. The vibrator did its job. But still it will be tight. 
Let's just take it slow and have a great time. I really enjoy a 
good ass fuck, so don't be concerned when I start to come, 
because I will come hard. You've seen the effects of the 
vibrator. With a real cock I come harder. I think you'll enjoy 
it. I hope you can hold out. I have plans."

"Umm. I don't know, Sarah. The stimulation can be too much. I'm 
already excited with the idea."

She was still lubing my cock, and felt how hard it was and how it 
throbbed in her hand.

"Mmm hmm. I can feel how hard it is. I'm excited, too. I think 
I'll come like a rocket as soon as you're inside me. OK, slight 
change of plans. Let's start with a quick fuck to take the edge 
off. Afterwards we take a break and repeat it leisurely. I don't 
want to miss out on the fun, and I want you to enjoy it fully. 
How is that?"

"You mean... I get to get two pieces of ass?" I quipped.

Laughing, she retorted, "Yes, stud. I told you before, _Around 
Sarah in 80 Ways_."

"I loved the read up to now. I'm looking forward to the next 
chapter," I said, then gathering her in my arms, I kissed her 
hard.

After the kiss, she turned around and pulled a pillow under her 
belly and stretched herself over it, offering her ass in a 
comfortable position. I moved between her legs, and leaned over 
her body, supporting myself on one arm. Reaching back she used 
her hands to spread her cheeks to help me, and I guided my cock 
to her backdoor. Although her hole looked tight and small, it was 
dilated by the vibrator. Still, I pressed in slowly, taking care 
not to hurt her. At first, the ring around her hole resisted, and 
I stopped my efforts. Keeping a little pressure, I waited for her 
to relax.

"Try again. Harder his time," she said.

So, I applied a slow pressure. Suddenly I popped inside the ring, 
penetrating her hole, and immediately stopped. Her ring was 
flexing behind the head of my cock, and felt very tight. The 
inside was very hot, hotter than her pussy. When the involuntary 
flexing tapered off, I pushed in a little bit more, before coming 
to a stop. I could hear Sarah's panting and gasping, but I wasn't 
sure if it was from discomfort or pleasure.

"Oh, God! It's... it's good. Push more. Slowly," she said, urging 
me on.

Pulling back, I pushed in further, and waited for her to get used 
to my presence. Over a matter of minutes, I patiently worked my 
length inside her. When I finally bottomed in her bottom (pun 
intended), I stopped and waited for her to get used to me. She 
released her hold on her cheeks, and moved her hands to the head 
of the bed, grasping the wooden bars of the frame. Supporting my 
weight on both hands I lowered my upper body, and kissed her 
between her shoulder blades. Leaving a wet trail, I traced a path 
to her neck kissing and licking her. Her body was responding with 
little shivers, and I was enjoying her moans of pleasure. When I 
was at her neck, she turned her head and we shared a soft kiss.

Because I was concentrating on how she was faring, I hadn't paid 
much attention to how it felt to me. Now, resting inside her, I 
was surprised at how good it felt. The ring was still tight at 
the root of my shaft, gripping me like a small vise, and her 
insides were soft, with a velvety texture, and hot, very hot. 
Sarah had more control over that particular muscle than she had 
over her pussy muscles, and she tried experimental squeezes, 
making me grunt with the feeling. The hot channel had a sort of a 
rippling action on my shaft, enhancing the feeling. The 
stimulation was great, and I wondered how long I would be able to 
hold out before my balls gave up. I still remembered how her hole 
gripped and sucked the vibrator when I used it, and now my cock 
was going to have the same treatment. What's more, the idea of 
plugging Sarah in such a forbidden place had finally registered; 
it was a big turn on. In my teen masturbation fantasies I had not 
thought of this particular activity.

The combination of physical stimulation, and the excitement was 
starting to overwhelm me, and I was panting hard. Breaking the 
kiss, Sarah looked up.

"It's getting to you, isn't it?"

"It's... it's so different... I've never experienced anything 
like this. You're so hot and tight in there, I don't know if I'll 
be able to hold out."

"I know. It feels as if a pole is lodged in there, but it's a 
hot, hard and throbbing pole. The person behind that pole makes 
it more exciting too."

"Yeah. Same here. I'd never imagined it would be like this. It's 
kind of nasty, and kinky. After all we had done, I didn't think 
this would be so exciting."

"Mmm hmm. Me too. But that's part of the pleasure. It turns me on 
to know that I'm your first."

As I throbbed with excitement at her words, she closed her eyes, 
and gasped. Then she said, "God, I feel you there... how I feel 
you there... I feel so sluttish. I want you to fuck me to death, 
Mitch. You want to, don't you?"

"God, Sarah. Ease up. I'll lose it before I start. I want to 
enjoy this more."

"Me too. I have an idea. Can you reach the drawer on the night 
stand?"

"I think so. You want the other vibrator?"

"Yeah."

When it became obvious I couldn't reach the drawer without 
uncoupling us, Sarah moved to a doggy position and managed to get 
the vibrator.

"I want to use this, while you cool down a bit," she said.

_Clever girl._

I wanted to play with her body and pleasure her, and when I 
explained what I had in mind, she agreed. Carefully, we 
rearranged ourselves. I was sitting on my heels, and Sarah was 
sitting on my lap, with her legs outside mine, spread wide, 
resting her back on my chest. It was comfortable, and I could 
play with her tits, and caress her body, while she used the 
vibrator on her pussy. She didn't insert it inside, as the 
vibrations would stimulate my cock. I ran my hands around her 
body, tracing patterns on her belly, feeling the ripples of 
pleasure as she climbed to her orgasm. As she started to come, I 
cupped and played with her tits, pulling and twisting her nipples 
gently, prolonging her pleasure. In the meantime, my cock was 
feeling the effects of her orgasm, the ring flexing around the 
base of my shaft rhythmically with a fierce grip, and her channel 
rippling in concert to the flutters in her pussy, their action 
along the length of my cock stimulating me without taking me over 
the brink. Although Sarah wanted me to fuck her, I was enjoying 
her orgasm too much, so we kept at it for several minutes, until 
she got off again.

When she caught her breath, she put the vibrator aside, and asked 
me to fuck her. So, we moved to the doggy position. She was 
holding onto the headboard, and I was leaning over her and 
holding onto the headboard with one hand. My other hand was free 
to roam around her body to play with her tits, stroke her belly, 
and stimulate her pussy.

She turned her head and said, "Mitch, when I come I'll come very 
hard so keep on fucking. I want you to fuck me fast and hard, 
like a slut. I mean it. I want to know I was fucked in the ass."

Her words made my blood boil, and she knew the effect she was 
having on me. There was no way she could miss the way my cock 
throbbed and jumped in her tight little hole. She responded by 
squeezing her ring around me.

"Come on stud, don't keep me waiting."

Because her ring was dilated enough, it didn't take long to 
establish long strokes. As I stroked in, Sarah relaxed her ring, 
and as I pulled out, she tightened her ring on my shaft, her 
channel sucking my cock, making us both gasp and pant with the 
stimulation. As I felt I was drawing close to boiling over, I 
stopped my stroking and started to work on her clitoris.

"I'm getting there... Fuck me... agh... Fuck me hard... Don't... 
ugh... hold back..."

I wanted to enjoy this more, so I kept my attentions on her 
clitoris, while waiting for my own excitement to subside. I 
wanted to bring her with a big bang.

"Come on... fuck me... fuck my ass..." she urged me on.

"I will, Sarah. Hold on a second."

Her upper body was trembling, and she was trying to fuck herself 
back on my cock, but I had her cornered between my body and the 
headboard of the bed. Capturing her clitoral hood between two 
fingers, I started a milking action, moving her along. As she 
started to moan her pleasure, I gave her long hard strokes at a 
slow pace, making her grunt with each thrust. In the meantime, 
her pussy was leaking her juices and her ring was flexing. In a 
few minutes, she announced her pleasure with a sharp scream that 
turned into a long wail. Because her ring was getting tight, I 
started a series of short but brutal thrusts and she went crazy, 
her cries picking up in volume. At the same time, the little 
ripples along the length of her channel and the flexing of her 
ring brought me to boiling point. I tried to hold back as much as 
possible. The pleasure was incredible; the way her channel 
rippled along the length of my shaft, how it tried to grasp and 
milk me, trying to suck the cum out of it, and how her body was 
shaking and trembling as the pleasure coursed through her, 
screaming and moaning.

I was so turned on by the way she was coming and screaming, how 
her body was responding, it touched something primitive inside 
me. I felt like I was burning with a fewer. I wanted to fuck her 
to pieces, ravish her. I moved both my hands to her tits, and 
cupped them, trapping the nipples between two fingers. Using her 
tits as handles, I started long hard strokes, trying to keep the 
boiling cum inside. The effect on her was extraordinary. When she 
stopped screaming, she was yelling and shouting obscenities, 
driving me crazy with excitement.

"Fuck me... rip my tits... give it to me..."

We were like animals trying to tear at each other. I was pumping 
in her hole furiously and was ready to blow my load, while 
tearing at her tits, squeezing her tit flesh and nipples. She was 
also fucking back as much as she could, trying to tear off my 
cock off with the muscles of her ring. As I felt the heat boil in 
my balls, I slowed my pace, and pulled out, getting a 
disappointed moan. Using my hand I quickly positioned my 
throbbing cock, and gave a brutal stroke, all the way in, making 
her scream. Pulling back I repeated it again, and Sarah was still 
screaming for more. The extra stimulation on her ring as I kept 
pulling out and forcefully ramming inside, had her going higher 
and higher.

Returning my hand to her tit, I cupped it. Finally, as the 
boiling heat traveled along the length of my shaft, I fucked into 
her hard, trying to penetrate her as deep as possible, and before 
I was halfway in, I burst with the first spurt. Reversing 
direction I gave another brutal stroke that took me all the way 
into her depths, and her channel worked its magic, rippling along 
the length of my cock. Feeling me throbbing inside her and 
filling her up, Sarah responded with a long scream,

"Oh, God.... fuck meeee! aaaieee... sooo goood... aaahhh..."

Still in the throes of the pleasure, I squeezed her tits and 
nipples hard, and gave her one final brutal stroke, fucking into 
her deep, and pumped the rest of my load. As I was filling her 
channel with strong pulses of my cum, she started to wail, and 
the ripples in her channel got even more pronounced, sucking my 
cum out. It was as if she had a mouth and a hand there sucking 
and milking my cock. Her ring kept snapping on the base of my 
shaft, locking hard around it, which stopped and slowed the flow 
of boiling cum, while her channel tried to suck it out. The 
contrast between the two actions working against each other was 
terrific and I felt like I was coming for hours and hours. As the 
pleasure started to subside, I eased my grip on her tits, and 
tried to caress them gently. Sarah, however had other ideas. She 
reached with one hand and put it on top, and squeezed my hand 
around her tit. Following her lead, I squeezed her tits, and 
played with her nipples; pulling, and twisting them hard, getting 
rough with them, and receiving soft screams of pleasure for my 
efforts.

She was a real minx, with a ravenous appetite, and it was a big 
turn on. Even though I had just finished coming inside her, I 
wanted to fuck her again and again and again. The way she 
responded and urged me on unleashed something raw and animalistic 
in me. It took us several minutes before we were able to catch 
our breath. I was nuzzling and kissing her neck, enjoying the way 
her body shook with tremors, the salty taste of her sweat on my 
tongue, and her smell filling my senses with its heady fragrance.

When she turned to look at me, I saw the burning fever in her 
eyes, making me burn with the same fever. Although we were still 
short of breath, we locked lips, kissing each other hard. From 
the way we kissed, it was clear neither of us were satiated yet. 
We both wanted a repeat, but it had been a draining and tiring 
experience. After the kiss, we kept in that position, savoring 
the after glow, and kept teasing each other; Sarah, by working 
her ring around my shaft, while I played with her tits. I had 
come hard, but my cock was semi-hard, the heat of the burning 
fever keeping me excited. Both of us were reluctant to move, but 
Sarah suggested we should get into a more comfortable position. 
Without breaking contact, we managed to get into a sideways 
cuddle.

After she caught her breath, she asked, "Do you want a repeat?"

"Aren't you sore? I was pretty brutal."

"I'm not hurting. Maybe it will come later."

"I think you'll be pretty sore."

"I don't care. That was very good, but short. I want it again, 
but a slow leisurely one."

"I won't say no."

"Good. So, you enjoyed fucking Sarah in her tight little 
asshole," she teased, making me throb.

Before I could reply, she laughed, "Yep, you enjoyed it."

"God, Sarah. The way you talk sometimes."

"What? I wanted to be a slut, and get fucked like one. You gave 
me what I wanted. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy 'Sarah the 
wanton slut'."

"It's not that. It kind of feels strange to hear you talk like 
that. It's a turn on, but... You know what I mean. You're not a 
slut. You're a beautiful woman," I replied softly, not feeling 
comfortable with the labels. "We knew each other as kids and now 
here we are--"

She cut me off. "With your cock in my ass, fucking me to pieces," 
she quipped, with a teasing smile, and making my cock throb 
again.

"Relax, Mitch. You need to loosen up. You heard what I said and 
what I wanted and you gave me what I wanted. I loved what we did. 
Just as you give me pleasure and enjoy doing that, I also take 
pleasure in giving pleasure. You have to admit, this has been a 
real blast."

"Yes, it was. I don't know what came over me. You really drove me 
crazy at one point. As you said, I felt like fucking you to 
death."

"I know. I felt it when you started to fuck me so hard. But, 
that's what I wanted. I wanted to be fucked, ravished. Sometimes 
women want to be conquered, possessed. It's something very 
primitive and animalistic. It touches some place deep. It's rare, 
but on occasion it happens. And I felt like that; I wanted that."

"Yeah. We were like animals. It was primitive. I just don't feel 
comfortable."

"Mitch, if you were hurting me, I would have stopped it or said 
something. I wanted it and I wanted it that way. Why are you so 
concerned about it?"

"It's easy to lose control and hurt somebody, in the heat of 
passion."

"Mitch, I don't think you're capable of hurting anybody. Even in 
the heat of passion. You listen to your partner. You were 
listening to me, and did what I wanted you to do. It requires a 
certain rapport between partners to be able to read their wants 
and needs, otherwise it can be dangerous. But you read me, and 
gave me what I wanted."

Seeing I wasn't convinced, she continued.

"Mitch. Do you think you would have continued, if I was hurting 
and screaming in pain? It wasn't taken by force, it was given. I 
think you know the difference."

"Yeah, I know the difference."

"Look, Mitch. You'll meet different women with different wants. 
Even the same woman would have different wants at different 
moments, depending on her mood. Giving them what they want at the 
right moment can be a difficult thing. It's a matter of 
experience, and rapport between partners. You can err on the 
conservative side and choose to play it safe. Nothing wrong with 
that, except that you might be cheating them of their pleasure. 
You don't know how much pleasure you gave me. So keep that in 
mind."

"I know. I guess sometimes I play it too safe, too cautious."

"That's OK. You'll never go wrong with that, but as you 
discovered, you can do much more. I think we're ready for round 
two," she quipped, giving me a squeeze with her ring and making 
me throb.

I was getting hard, again.

"Let's catch our breath a little bit. Why don't you use the 
vibrator? I love watching you come."

"And I love the way you fuck me and make love to me. This time, 
make love to my ass."

With that she raised her leg and put it on top of my leg, 
hunching her ass so that I could stroke into her comfortably. 
Picking up the vibrator, she started to use it on her pussy, 
while I ran my hand over her body, and played with her tit. 
During her first orgasm, the ripples in her channel stimulated me 
enough to harden me completely and I was ready to start making 
love to her tight little hole. As she was coming down from her 
orgasm, I started to pump her ass at a steady, slow pace, 
savoring the feel of her hot channel. She responded by using her 
muscles at regular intervals, but taking care not to overexcite 
me. We both wanted a long and leisurely session. However, she 
kept using the vibrator on her clit, and in her pussy, letting my 
cock feel the vibrations. It was an exquisite feeling, staying 
deep inside her, with the vibrations working on my shaft and the 
involuntary ripples of her channel sucking at my cock. When I 
felt my excitement build up, I stroked inside her and stayed 
motionless, waiting for the feeling to recede. Sarah was careful 
with the vibrator, and didn't keep it in her pussy when I was 
taking the short breaks. Instead, she worked it on her clitoris 
or on her tits.

We kept at it for a long while, and the frequency of Sarah's 
orgasms increased, although they were mild and quick compared to 
her previous ones. With an ever-increasing need to come, I found 
myself taking shorter and shorter breaks. As we reached the final 
stretch, I decreased the pace of my strokes, trying to enjoy the 
feel of her channel. Sarah seemed to like the slow pace as well, 
and she started to work the vibrator in her pussy, pumping it in 
and out slowly in synch with my strokes. Feeling I was getting 
close, I moved my hand to her pussy, and played with her 
clitoris. When my cock started to harden and my balls tightened 
up, getting ready to blow, Sarah pulled the vibrator until the 
tip was at the entrance of her pussy and started to contract her 
ring muscles.

With slow but sure strokes I pumped in and out of her velvety 
hole, while my hand kept at her clitoris. With a soft gasp, her 
body froze, then she trembled as her climax hit her. She pushed 
the vibrator inside, keeping it buried there, and let me feel the 
ripples of her channel. Then I burst with the first spurt, and 
pushing myself all the way inside her, I let the ripples of her 
channel and the vibrations suck the cum.

"Oh, God! It's... aaahhh... so hot... I... aaiiiee... burn... 
ing..." she moaned, as I filled her.

We were shaking with the pleasure as the feelings washed over us. 
When it ended, our bodies were still shivering and trembling with 
the after effects of our mutual orgasm. I had my lips on her 
shoulder, and gave her a soft nip. In reply she gripped me hard 
with her ring muscles. Shutting off the vibrator, she pulled it 
out of her pussy, and put it aside. Then, grabbing my hand that 
was softly stroking her pussy, she moved it up to her tit, 
cupping her hand over mine. We had not realized it, but both 
Sarah and I were completely exhausted. We had been caught in the 
passion of the moment, burning with an uncontrollable fewer, but 
now, as we started to come down, the lethargy overtook us. I 
wanted to touch and caress her body, but I couldn't find any 
energy to do anything. Sarah must have been feeling the same way, 
because after gathering her strength she moved to mold her body 
to mine, and with a sigh relaxed against me. I couldn't even 
bring myself to squeeze her tit, so I did the only thing I could 
do, and locked my lips on her neck, gently kissing and licking 
it. In a few minutes, we fell asleep.



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 20: Pillow Talk



The ringing of the telephone woke us. Since the telephone was on 
the nightstand on my side, I had to roll away from Sarah to grab 
it. Sarah was still groggy, so I decided to answer the phone.

"Hello," I said.

"Mitch? Are you guys awake?" Kathy asked, her voice soft, but a 
bit breathless.

"Good morning, Kathy. Yeah, we were getting up."

"It's afternoon, Mitch. Can I... ugh... talk to Sarah?"

"Yep. Just a sec."

Turning around I found Sarah resting on her back, rubbing her 
sleepy eyes. I gave her the phone. "It's Kathy."

"Morning, Kathy. What's up?"

"Oh! I didn't realize it. No, we won't be late."

I was listening to Sarah's side of the conversation with half an 
ear, while I stretched and tried to get rid of the cobwebs of 
sleep. When I looked up, I found Sarah listening intently with a 
small smile on her lips.

"No, he survived, but I could hardly say the same for myself," 
she replied with a smile.

Listening for a few seconds, she laughed. Then she said, "Oh, the 
usual. You know, the _Sarah Special_. He enjoyed the read, and I 
think he can do a second read."

She listened for a few seconds intensely, her face coloring up. 
"You, bitch! I can hear it from here. I hope he turns it inside 
out."

 From the nature of the comments I understood Kathy was teasing 
Sarah, and remembering Kathy had sounded a bit breathless when 
she talked to me, it dawned on me that Mark was working on her 
while she was on the phone.

_For fuck's sake. These two don't know when to stop._

I saw Sarah's nipples hardening in arousal, as she listened to 
Kathy. Since they seemed to be working each other up, I decided 
to take the bull by the horns, and do something about it. Moving 
between Sarah's legs, I gently spread them, and started to kiss 
the insides of her thighs, getting an appreciative moan.

"Nope. He's getting ready for an oral exam," Sarah said.

_Damn girls! Well, you asked for it Sarah._

With that, I moved to her pussy, and started to lick her slit, 
teasing her labia, and working towards the inner lips. Dipping my 
tongue into her channel, I tasted her juices. Sarah was starting 
to pant and gasp, while trying to keep a conversation with Kathy. 
Her clit was starting to peek from the hood. Once again, I was 
amazed how easily she got aroused.

"Yeah... Mmmm... Yessss... aah... I... think so... I need to... 
aaghh..."

Sarah's broken speech was cut off with a laugh and she was having 
difficulty to catch her breath, so I took a pause to let her 
collect herself.

"I don't need to get out of the bed. I need to come. You should 
get out of the bed," she retorted with a snicker.

"Yeah? I'm not a slut, you're the slut. I'm a hot cunt," she 
said, hotly, but it was obvious they were goading each other.

"Good! At least you'll give your vibrators a break," she came 
back.

Laughing again at Kathy's remarks, she replied, "I don't think 
so; he tenderized it nicely. I hope you can't sit on your bum for 
a week. You deserve it."

She listened for a while without a reply, but she was breathing 
hard. I wondered what was happening. It didn't look like she was 
listening to something Kathy said. Then, Sarah said, "You're a 
bitch, Kathy. I hope he rubs your little button raw."

I realized Kathy had let Sarah listen to their activities. I 
decided I needed to do something before things got out of hand, 
so I returned to licking her slit, getting a long moan.

"No, he's quite good, thank... aggh... you very... ohhh... much. 
If you'll... aggh... excuse me... aghh... we have an or... 
aghh... al exam to attend to," Sarah said, between pants and 
gasps.

"You too. Byeiieee..." she managed, before she gave a soft 
scream, when I hit her clit. She dropped the telephone on the 
bed, and gave herself to the feelings, as I stirred her pussy 
with my tongue. Before I could continue further, she grabbed me 
behind my ears, and stopped me, before pulling me for a kiss.

After the kiss, she said, "I want to make love one last time, 
Mitch. There's a special soap in the medicine cabinet, in a green 
plastic bottle. We use it against infections and bacteria in the 
hospital, and it's harmless to the skin. Can you wash up with 
that?"

I knew she could get something nasty, if I went in her pussy 
after being in her ass. I didn't have anything visible on my cock 
from being in her ass, but I knew there was flora in there that 
could cause serious infection.

In the bathroom, I found the liquid soap she mentioned, and 
washed myself thoroughly, making sure I was clean. I didn't want 
her to catch something. I returned to the bedroom to find her 
sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for me. Pulling me close, 
she started to lick and suck my cock, without even inspecting it 
to see if I had done a proper job. I was touched by her trust in 
me, so stopping her, I kneeled down and kissed her hard, while 
teasing her tits. She had always been a beautiful person, a 
lovely girl and she had turned into an even lovelier woman. I 
wondered why I felt so much lust for her, and love, but why my 
feelings for her were so different than what I felt for Dana. 
There were similarities between the two, but differences as well. 
They were both woman, all _woman_, passionate, and with an 
appetite, although Sarah seemed to have a more ravenous appetite 
than Dana. I wasn't sure if that was because of her long-time 
fantasies or if she had always been like that. The way she kissed 
was different, too. Passionate, lusty, but it wasn't like Dana's 
soul kisses. I wondered at that particular difference. Cupping 
her chin gently, I broke the kiss. Then I tried to give her a 
soul kiss like I had learned from Dana. At first, she went with 
it, passionately, before she stopped responding, and broke the 
kiss.

Giving me an apprehensive but soft look, she said, "Thank you, 
Mitch. I love you and I appreciate it, but please don't. I'm not 
ready for something like that. I'm going to miss you, and that 
would make it much more difficult."

_So she understood._

"You're a lovely woman, Sarah. And a good friend. I just couldn't 
help myself."

"Such a romantic... You don't need to do that to make me feel 
loved. We're good friends, and I love you. I enjoyed what we did, 
and the way we did it. And that made me, makes me, happy. I told 
you before, I'm not looking for anything more. I'd like to keep 
it like that. If you can somehow manage, I'd like to see you in 
my bed again. I know it might not be possible. Thank you for what 
you've given me, Mitch."

Kissing her, I said, "I should thank you, Sarah, for all you've 
shared. I don't know what will happen, but I'll try to keep in 
touch. And I know I'll miss you... very much."

"Let's make love and pleasure each other again."

With that, she reached for my cock, and I stood up. She worked 
her mouth on my cock. It took quite a bit of time for me to 
regain my erection, as I had come so strongly the last two times, 
but Sarah didn't complain, even when I thought she would be 
getting tired. She seemed to enjoy what she was doing, perhaps 
because she thought she might not get a chance like that again, 
and was making the most of it. When I was hard and ready she 
moved up along the bed and positioned herself on her back, with 
her knees pulled up, legs spread wide. I moved in between her 
legs, and hooked my arms under her legs, pushing her knees 
further up, positioning her for a deep penetration, while 
supporting myself on my arms. She reached and guided me into her 
pussy, and I worked myself all the way into her, slowly, in a 
single stroke. Hunching her ass at me, she urged me to bend her 
in half, opening herself up more for my strokes, so I followed 
her lead. While I kept up a slow but steady pace, her hands were 
busy at her junction, playing with her pussy lips and teasing my 
balls, running her finger from the bottom of my balls up along 
the perineum. She was being careful not to stimulate me too much, 
trying to make it last.

I wasn't sure how long we kept it up, but after a while it became 
difficult to keep our pace slow. Sarah was straining hard, and I 
could feel she was trying to hold back her orgasm, staying on the 
brink, teasing herself and me. I was surprised how she managed to 
hold on so long, after coming so fast before. I suspected she 
wanted a memorable last fuck. When I felt the cum boil in my 
balls, and my cock started to throb with urgency, Sarah realized 
I was almost there, so she whispered, "Give me a few hard strokes 
and when you're almost there, stay deep inside me."

I did as she suggested. I gave her a few experimental hard 
strokes, trying to keep myself from blowing my load. Sarah urged 
me to be more forceful, so I pulled out all the stops. I stroked 
in her very hard, and stayed in her, waiting for a few second, 
before following it with another brutal stroke, while pressing my 
pubic bone, trying to stimulate her clitoris. I didn't want to 
blow my load before she came. As I repeated my actions, she 
yelped, and I felt her pussy tighten around my shaft. Two more 
such strokes, and I had to stop, because I was ready to blow. 
Sarah's hands were busy teasing her pussy lips, and my shaft, and 
with a soft moan, she started to come, her pussy beginning its 
involuntary flutters. My balls, and her fingers were soaked with 
her juices. As she was coming, she started to tease my balls with 
her fingernails, scratching them gently, and my nuts tightened up 
with the stimulation, itching and boiling at the same time, 
getting ready to pump. I felt her finger trace a line from my 
balls up along the perineum.

The flutters of her pussy were demanding, trying to suck the cum, 
and the tip of my cock expanded with new blood. As I gave in to 
the demands of her pussy, I felt her slick finger move further 
up. Before I realized what she was up to, her finger penetrated 
my ass, and wiggled in. As she pressed a spot, I screamed, and 
felt my balls jump, releasing the built up pressure with a fury. 
Sarah worked her finger at my backside, forcing me to give 
everything I had left in my balls, making me grunt and scream 
with the pleasure. It was too intense, and my cum felt like 
molten metal, as it traveled along the length of my shaft and 
burst out. It felt like my whole cock was burning up. Later, I 
realized, Sarah had been working on my prostate, but at the time, 
it felt like her pussy was sucking my cock, eating it alive, 
while the finger in my ass was forcing me to pump acid from my 
balls all the way to the tip of my cock.

For almost half a minute I was flopping between her legs like a 
trapped fish, running out of breath, while her finger tortured me 
exquisitely and her pussy ate me. It felt like hours. When the 
feeling started to subside, Sarah eased her attentions, but still 
massaged me inside, trying to draw out my pleasure, and get the 
last bit of my seed. Gently she pulled her finger out, making me 
grunt, before she cupped my balls, rolling my nuts gently. When I 
opened my eyes, it took me several seconds to focus on her face. 
Her face was blurry, from the tears in my eyes, as I had been 
squeezing them hard in the grip of the almost painful pleasure. 
Gently she wiped my tears with her fingers, and I found her 
watching me with an amused smile. This last session had been 
almost like the time with Dana, when she had drained me with her 
pussy and sucked my breath out with her soul kiss.

As I got my senses back, her pussy was going through its last 
tremors, and Sarah kept watching me, her smile broken with soft 
gasps whenever my cock twitched weakly inside her channel, 
responding to her fingers working my balls. Finally, she stopped 
her ministrations and moved her hands to my neck, pulling me in 
for a kiss. After we surfaced to catch our breath, I mumbled, "I 
won't be able to have any children," making her laugh.

Kissing me softly, she said, "I told you I know a lot about male 
anatomy."

I was still too out of breath to reply, and with a more serious 
tone, she asked, "Was it too intense?"

I nodded.

"I thought so. When you came, your come felt very hot, almost 
burning my insides. I hope I didn't hurt you."

I shook my head.

"Put your weight on my legs, and rest."

I couldn't argue, my arms were shaking, so I slipped my hands 
under her shoulders, while I put my weight on her body and legs. 
It must have been uncomfortable for her, bent in half, but she 
wrapped her arms around my back and embraced me, both of us 
enjoying the feeling. A few minutes later, I released her legs 
and slid my hands under her again, embracing her and pressing my 
chest against her tits, my head resting beside her head. I kissed 
her on her neck, licking behind her ear, and then nipped her ear 
lobe. She had given me so much pleasure, I wanted to love her to 
pieces, even though I was exhausted from the ordeal. When I 
released her legs, she wrapped her legs around my waist, locking 
her feet on my lower back, and ran her hands on my back, 
wriggling her body beneath mine, rubbing her tits to my chest, 
and cooing softly.

Raising up, I locked my lips to hers. Even though she had told me 
not to, I gave her a soul kiss. I wanted to thank her for what 
she shared with me and wanted to let her know how I felt about 
her. This time she didn't resist, and responded in kind. For a 
moment I felt guilty, because I didn't feel about her the same 
way I did about Dana, and it wasn't fair to her. But, I didn't 
know any other way to let her know I loved her as a friend, as a 
lover. I just hoped, it wouldn't come back to haunt me later. We 
finished our kiss and continued with a lot of tongue action, 
licking, sucking and nipping each other's lips and tongue. I took 
a look at her, to see her reaction, and found her returning my 
gaze with a soft smile. Her eyes had the strange hue, but they 
were lethargic. She seemed to be completely satiated.

As I was searching her face, she said, "Thank you, Mitch. I loved 
the kiss. Somehow it felt right." Then with a gentle smile she 
added, "But, let's not make a habit of it, OK?"

I nodded. We both knew the spirit in which it was given and 
returned. We were enjoying the aftermath too much, and I felt so 
drained I didn't want to move. "Are we going to be late?" I 
asked.

With a laugh, Sarah said, "A little bit, but if I know Kathy, 
she'll be expecting that. She'll be running late as well."

"I gathered as much. Do you call each other like that regularly?" 
I asked.

"Sometimes. I do it to her more frequently, especially when Mark 
is visiting her."

"Mark doesn't mind?"

"Would any man mind, when he has a hot woman in his hands? Did 
you mind?" She retorted with a snort, making me laugh.

"Lately, I haven't had a partner; one that I felt comfortable 
with. That's why Kathy did what she did, now. If I hadn't been so 
preoccupied and exhausted, I would have been the one calling 
her," she added, her eyes filled with mirth.

While we were conversing, I was lost in her eyes, how her gray 
eyes changed color as the green-blue motes caught the light. From 
a distance the only thing I could notice was the slight hue 
change, but up close it was easy to see how they speckled. My 
mind was busy trying to sort my feelings, trying to find an 
answer to why I still felt like loving her to pieces. Was it 
lust? Was it hunger?

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

I wasn't expecting her question, and replied, without thinking, 
"I want to love you to pieces."

She gave a small laugh and replied, "But you already did. You 
want more?"

Yeah, I wanted more, even though I wasn't physically able to do 
so. I just knew how I felt, but I didn't know why. I was 
embarrassed to answer her question, because I didn't want to make 
her feel like a piece of meat. She wasn't that. She was more than 
that. Suddenly I felt like a 15 year old kid, lost, confused, 
looking for the correct way to answer her question.

"Mitch? Something the matter?" she asked, concerned.

"Nothing. It's just... To tell the truth, yes. I want more. I 
don't know why, but I feel like making love to you more and more. 
Even though I can't get hard--"

"Good!" she cut me off. "I want you to want me like that. Nothing 
wrong with that."

"You know you're not just a woman to go to bed with. You're more 
than that. I don't understand why I want more of you, and I feel 
uncomfortable wanting you like that," I replied.

"I understand, Mitch. Maybe you're feeling guilty because you 
want me, but don't want to get attached to me, and then there's 
your girl friend. But as I said, nothing wrong with wanting me 
like that. I know I worked you hard, because I lusted for you. Of 
course, it's another matter for your relationship, but don't be 
concerned about me. Maybe your pent up lust is catching up with 
you, after all, like it did with me?" she quipped, making me 
smile.

Yep, she did have a point. Perhaps, my lust for her finally 
caught up with me, especially after what we had done, and how she 
worked me to a fever pitch the last few times. I wanted to repeat 
that experience. I realized I was thinking with my little head, 
even though it was dead to the world for all practical purposes.

"I don't need to remind you, you're welcome anytime. I would love 
a repeat. I enjoyed myself very much. You know that."

I kissed her, exploring her mouth. "You're a lovely woman, Sarah. 
Talented, warm, kind, generous, beautiful... simply lovely."

"And you're a caring, loving friend, Mitch. And a good lover."

I replied by gathering her in my arms, giving her a hard squeeze, 
and she responded in kind pressing with her feet on my ass and 
tightening her arms around my back, and we shared a hard, 
passionate kiss, filled with lust, and... love. Yes, there was 
love, different from what I had with Dana, but nonetheless, it 
was there. Our perfect embrace was interrupted with a soft, 
disappointed gasp from Sarah, when my cock slipped out from her 
pussy without any ceremony.

"Damn," she quipped.

"Double damn," I agreed.

We broke into laughter at the incongruity of the situation. 
Gathering her in my arms, I sat on my heels, and let her sit on 
my thighs. I couldn't keep my hands off her body. Holding her 
under her arms, I pushed her away from me, and started to work on 
her tits, licking around her areola. I sucked her puffy nipples 
one after the other, before moving up to her chest, then to her 
neck to finally end at her lips with a kiss.

With a smile, Sarah warned me. "If you keep that up, I'm going to 
want another round, but I'm afraid neither of us are in any 
condition to survive it."

She must have been satiated, because her breathing was normal, 
and she wasn't showing any signs of arousal. With her feet locked 
around my lower back, she pulled herself to my chest and we held 
each other, enjoying he feel of each other's body. We stayed like 
that for a long time, reluctant to part. Perhaps, knowing we 
might not get another chance, we were trying to burn the moments 
into our memories. I knew I was memorizing her; how she felt, how 
she smelled, how she moved under me, how she kissed, how she 
touched, and I suspected she was doing the same.

With a resigned sigh, she released me from her embrace, and said, 
"If we dawdle more, we'll be late, and Kathy will kill us."

"You said she would need time."

"Yeah, she would, but we still have to drive, and we might get 
caught up in traffic. You know your sister. I don't want to give 
her more ammunition to tease us."

"She wouldn't dare."

"Like last night, in the kitchen?" she reminded with a smile.

"Shit. She would, wouldn't she? I should have put her on my knees 
a long time ago and taught her some respect."

"Yeah, you should have," she agreed. Then with a teasing smile, 
added, "As if that would have helped."

We went to the bathroom and shared a shower, washing each other. 
I was careful when I was washing her backside, as it was tender. 
When I asked, she replied it would feel a bit sore later, but she 
didn't mind it, because it had felt so good. Then she said, "It 
will remind me I was loved to pieces."

She paid special attention when washing my cock, and then gave a 
couple of licks and sucks to see if there was any soap left. Even 
though we were running late, I pinned her to the shower wall, and 
ate her to a mild orgasm, wanting to taste her again, and to see 
her come. When we were finished, she was quiet, tired from all 
the orgasms, and a bit emotional. I was feeling emotional as 
well, already starting to miss her, not only the sex, which had 
been amazing, but her as a person, as a lover, as a woman. While 
drying each other with big towels, we found ourselves in an 
embrace, sharing another soul kiss, letting each other know how 
we felt. Yes, there was love, and a certain attachment, besides 
all the physical attraction and lust.

Finally, we dressed in a hurry and hit the traffic. Last night, 
Mark had taken Kathy to her place in his car, leaving my car at 
Sarah's. Sarah suggested going in my car, instead of two cars. 
She mentioned the four of us might go out for dinner someplace 
tonight, and later drop her at her house. If we didn't go out, 
Mark or I could bring her back to her place. I suggested, she 
might stay over at Kathy's place for the night, and with a laugh, 
she replied, we might get thrown out by the neighbors. I was 
already thinking about how much I would miss her, and hadn't 
thought about Mark and Kathy going at it. I suggested I would 
drop her off at her place. With a smile, she quipped she would 
read me a bedtime story. We both knew what the title of the story 
would be.

To evade most of the traffic, Sarah directed us to a rarely used 
road. Although it was a single lane road and empty, I was driving 
below the speed limits.

"Come on, Mitch, floor it! You drive like my grandma."

I liked driving fast, but did that on the roads I knew that were 
empty and when I was driving alone. I didn't like putting other 
people at risk, be it other drivers or a passenger in my car. 
After all, I was responsible for the safety of my passengers.

When I didn't pay attention, she quipped, "If you aren't going to 
drive, why do you buy a sporty thing like this? You should buy a 
Volvo or something."

"Sarah, I'm not familiar with this road. It's empty, but you 
never know. What's more I'm not driving alone."

"There's a long straight stretch coming up. I want to see what 
this thing can do. Can we?"

That I could do, if I could see the distance as much as she said, 
and she seemed to want to have a thrill ride.

"We'll see, Sarah. Depends on the road. Better straighten your 
seat and check your seat belt."

"Goody!"

I took the curve towards the top of a small cliff, and as we 
cleared it, I saw a very long stretch of road that was empty. I 
floored the gas pedal, and shifted, while checking the side of 
the roads for any possible animals or other things that might 
cause a problem. By the time I was downhill a hundred yards or 
so, I was doing 90 km/hr, and was shifting to fourth. In a matter 
of seconds, we were speeding at 140 km/hr, and I shifted to 
fifth. Sarah was enjoying the ride, but I was tense, because 
there wasn't much margin for error. When I hit 17o I decided 
enough was enough, and eased my foot off the pedal, letting the 
car slow down to a more comfortable 110 km/hr. As we neared the 
end of the stretch, I shifted down from fifth to third, the 
engine revs hitting the yellows, and the car decelerated down to 
60 km/hr with a loud whine.

"Whoooeeeiii!" Sarah shouted, exhilarated with the short speed 
ride.

I suspected she did this quite frequently on this road, and I was 
concerned for her safety.

"Sarah, how frequently do you drive fast, here?"

"Every time I visit Kathy. Why?"

"How fast do you drive?"

"Not too fast. I regularly hit 140, 150, but once I did 210," she 
replied with glee.

_Jeeez! You nuts?_

Sarah must have seen the look on my face, because she laughed and 
said, "I like a fast ride, Mitch."

I still remembered how I had survived my big accident, caused by 
lack of concentration, and I wasn't doing more than 90 at the 
time.

"Sarah, this is between the two of us, OK?"

Hearing my serious tone, she cooled off, and said, "Of course, 
Mitch."

"Good, because nobody in the family knows this, and I'd like to 
keep it like that," I said and told her about my accident. When I 
finished, she was pale.

"I'm not telling you this because it's a war story, OK? I'm 
telling you because it happened and it happened fast. A split 
second lack of concentration and things went wrong. At 140 or 
150, and I don't want to think about 210, things go terribly 
wrong much faster, and with lethal effect. That day, I was lucky. 
That was a company car, and I didn't even know its mechanical 
history. I know this car inside out, how it responds. I spend 
hours at the garage each time it's being serviced, to make sure 
everything is OK. So, I know what it is capable of doing. On this 
road, at that empty stretch, yeah, sure; 140 or 150, you can do 
that, as long as you pay attention, but 210? I personally 
wouldn't go over 100. And this is daylight and not winter, yet. I 
do hope you aren't attempting something like this in winter or at 
night. Every time you take an unnecessary risk, you're inviting 
disaster. This road might be empty, but it's too narrow, not 
enough wiggle room. I just hit 170 and was nervous as hell. I'd 
rather find a two or three lane highway and hit 200 instead of 
doing 100 or more on this road. It's not a question of driver's 
skills; it's a question of contingency, backup planning. You have 
more room on an empty stretch of two or three lane road than 
here. It gives you options, space, and response time to deal with 
an emergency. Do you get what I'm saying?"

She nodded, but I wasn't sure if she really got it, even though 
she was a grown up 24 year old woman, and knew about death.

"Look, Sarah, didn't you do a stretch at the ER?"

"In a few months, I'll be in the ER. Why?"

"Do you visit Kathy in ER?"

"Sometimes."

"Good. Next time, look for traffic accident victims, and their 
conditions. When it was happening, I was angry with myself for my 
stupidity. The realization that I wouldn't get a chance to say 
goodbye or offer an apology for my stupidity made it even worse. 
It's a stupid way to go. I can't imagine how Kathy would react, 
seeing me on a slab, mangled beyond recognition, because I had 
been stupid. I love you. Kathy and many other people love you. 
Think of the people you might leave behind, if you don't think 
about the consequences for yourself. Fun is fun, but as you 
reminded me about unprotected sex, you can take precautions and 
still have fun."

With a solemn expression, she said softly, "I will, Mitch. I 
promise," gripping my arm fiercely. I could see her mind was busy 
running over the scenario I had just given her. Perhaps the 
imagery I supplied using myself as an example, had been too much, 
but I didn't want to take any chances. Coming right after all we 
had shared, I knew the impact would be stronger and stay with 
her. I felt like a heel to scare and shock her that way, but in 
the long run, I hoped it might benefit her whenever she wanted to 
do something reckless, without carefully planning it, or thinking 
about consequences. I had learned about consequences, a lot, 
since childhood. Slowing the car, I pulled over to the side. 
Unfastening my seatbelt, and hers, I gathered her in my arms. 
When I kissed her, I felt her trembling. I had been right. It had 
shocked her. Even though she had seen death as a doctor, 
contemplating the death of somebody close to her--a man she had 
had in her bed less than an hour ago--was something else.

"Sssshhh. Sarah, baby. It's OK. I didn't want to scare you, but I 
wanted to make you understand, really understand. I'm sorry, 
love. I'm sorry."

She calmed down in a few minutes, and looked at me with a curious 
expression. "You're being careful at that place, aren't you?"

"Yes, of course, Sarah."

"But working there is an unnecessary risk. Why don't you leave?"

_Shit! How the hell did you come up with that?_

"It's not the same thing, Sarah. We're talking about being 
reckless and taking a calculated risk. One involves no thinking, 
no planning, and no thought of consequences. The other involves 
careful investigation of all possible sources of problems, their 
consequences and a plan to deal with them. When I work on the rig 
floor, there's more risk of injury or death from the machinery 
and human error than from possible attacks on the rig. What I do 
for work is potentially dangerous. I have learned to be careful 
and take my time. The people I work with are professionals, and 
they take pride in what they do, and how they do it. All of us 
pay attention to safety. At the end of the day, I like what I do. 
Same as you. You like what you do."

"It's difficult for people who love you to see it that way. I 
know your parents and Kathy don't see it that way."

"I know, Sarah, but there's little I can do about it. As I said, 
it's what I do for a living, and I enjoy doing it. I know I 
wouldn't be happy doing anything else, at least, at the moment. 
How would you feel if you wanted to work as a doctor, but weren't 
allowed to?"

"Well, I could always try singing," she quipped, but she was 
serious in her answer, implying I had other choices I could go 
for, and she was aware of the options.

_Damn, Sarah. You too? Come on, love. Cut me some slack!_

"That's not fair, Sarah. Not everybody has other talents or 
skills that they can employ, or want to, choose to employ."

Cupping my face, she kissed me, then said, "Sorry, Mitch. I was 
teasing."

"No, you were not. You were being a good friend," I countered, 
softly. "And I appreciate it. But, sometimes you have to let 
people make their own decisions, however much you love them."

"Unfortunately, you're right. But, I'll be another one who will 
be worrying about you," she replied.

"Please, Sarah. I don't want to sound insensitive, uncaring, 
selfish or ungrateful for all the love and attention, but you 
don't know how it is. The more people worry about me, the more 
difficult and complicated things get. I'm already up to my neck," 
I said, gently, trying not to hurt her feelings.

"I understand, Mitch. It was my way of saying I love you. As I 
said, you're right. When you love somebody, you want to protect 
them. I hope, one day, Kathy gets it too."

"Thank you, Sarah. I love you too. Another reason for me to be 
very careful. I think... I think Kathy got it... almost," I said. 
I thought Kathy was getting it, perhaps because of the changes in 
me, and the talk we had had.

Sarah's eyes widened for a moment, and she asked, "Is she? 
Really?"

"I don't know for sure, love, but that's the impression I got."

She plastered her lips to mine kissing me soundly, then said, 
"Oh, I do hope so, Mitch. She worries about you, too much."

"I know, but I'm happy to see that she's got a good man in her 
life, and her best friend around her, whenever she needs them."

"Yeah, but your fan club is getting more members who love you," 
she joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but as I thought 
about it, there was a truth to her words. Dana was a new addition 
to my life, and to a certain extent Sarah was becoming another 
one, as a friend--and perhaps as a lover.

"And I love all of them," I replied, not able to come up with any 
other response that was appropriate. I loved them all, but in 
different ways.

Kissing her, I said, "Let's get going, or Kathy will give us a 
hard time."

Putting my seat belt on, I started the car. I speeded up a bit, 
not overly so in the empty stretches, doing something like 70 
instead of the designated 50. As we reached a junction, she 
directed us through a maze of side roads, and eventually to a 
main road. There wasn't much traffic, and whenever it looked like 
we would hit one of the trouble spots, Sarah redirected us to 
alternative routes. We managed to arrive a bit late, but 
considering everything, it wasn't bad.



* * * * *



To be continued...




Author's NOTE:

This story is being continued. It is published--
more or less on a weekly schedule (Monday or Tuesday)--at three 
web sites as listed in the header, in HTML format.

At the time of writing, the total chapter count is 26. I plan to 
regularly revise the material, as it is being written and 
published, thus the next ASCII version would be chapters 21-30, 
after ch-30 is posted. Until then (i.e. ASCII versions of chapters 
21-30 are made available), you can follow the rest of this story 
at any one of the three web sites.

If you have skipped the first part, namely the Intro/ReadMe 
section "{ASS} REV Tales from an Unknown Corner intro 1/3," but 
managed to read all the 20 chapters, then please do return, and 
quickly browse through it, as there's some information that might 
be of assitance.

You can direct your comments (anonymously) via:

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/dai_wakizashi/www/contact.htm
or,
http://storiesonline.net/library/create_mail_form.php?id=1847


Thank you for reading.

Dai
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