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From: rache <rache696@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Traveling Man by Rachael Ross (M/F, Romance)
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Date: Wed, 01 Oct 2008 18:10:03 -0400
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The Traveling Man
by Rachael Ross


   =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Story Codes: M/F, Romance
   =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=



    He was a traveling man and out to make his fortune. No time for a
wife or children. "No time, no time," he'd say with an honest, if
somewhat self-deprecating smile. No time for a proper house with a
Christmas tree and the drapes pulled back so that the neighbors would
see it all lit up and glittering with tinsel. No time for gifts and
stockings and small footsteps excited upon the stairs. No time. And
all the time in the world it had seemed and sometimes did again. But
only when he was alone.

    "I love Christmas," Wren sighed and the bartender nodded, pouring
the man a generous cup of eggnog. 

    There was a thin string of lights blinking over the bar. Green and
red and white and Wren smiled at them until he caught his reflection
in the mirror. He was the only one in it and he picked up his drink.

    "Me too," the bartender said, having moved to the end of the bar
and he looked at his watch because his children were waiting for Santa
Claus.

    "Hi. Merry Christmas," a soft voice insinuated itself between Wren
and his cup and he held it just off his lips. "Hello," she said with a
smile just for him. 

    Wren blinked at her auburn hair, which was loose but falling all
at once in a long train across her bare right shoulder. It seemed to
curl upward between her full breasts and those, Wren was helpless to
note, were wonderfully contained in a low cut dress of emerald green,
a color that suited both the woman and the season perfectly.

    "Merry Christmas," the bartender replied for both of them. "What
can I bring you? Eggnog is on the house with a room key."

    "Oh!" the newcomer's brown eyes seemed to light up, turning almost
amber beneath the soft lights. "That sounds delicious, thank you."

    "It's pretty good," Wren took a sip as if to prove it and the
woman nodded eagerly.

    "I see that," she said and offered a hand gracefully. "I'm Stacy."

    "Stacy," he nodded. "I'm Wren."

    "That's a nice name. Unusual. I like it," she decided agreeably.
"You have a little..." Stacy smiled and touched her upper lip.

    "What? Oh!" Wren's face reddened slightly and he frowned, reaching
for a napkin. "Sorry."

    "Don't be," Stacy pursed her lips into the tiniest pout imaginable
and then spoiled it with another smile as the bartender placed a cup
of eggnog in front of her.

    "So, um...Peace on Earth," Wren offered as a small toast and Stacy
dipped her head.

    "And goodwill towards men," she accepted and the two of them drank
briefly.

    "See? I told you it was good," Wren said.

    "This is marvelous!" Stacy laughed lightly. "I've never had it
before."

    "You've never had eggnog before?" Wren gave her a doubtful smile.

    "No, I really haven't." She wrinkled her nose and examined the
contents of her cup, which was clear and crystal like Wren's. "It
reminds me of..."

    "Of what?" Wren wondered and it was an honest question, but Stacy
didn't seem so sure.

    "Hmmm? Oh!" she lifted her eyes momentarily and then dropped them
again with some color rising in her prominent cheeks. Wren looked
discreetly away and felt himself warming as his eyes were drawn to her
reflection in the mirror.

    "Are you in town long?" Wren asked and then worried that he
sounded too nosy, "I mean, I'm just passing through. On my way to the
coast, you know. Big business trip."

    "A business trip?" Stacy tilted her head slightly. "It's Christmas
eve."

    "Yeah, well..." Wren shrugged.

    "Are you married?" Stacy asked him and the soft lilt in her voice
drew a sharp look from Wren. "I'm sorry. Was that rude of me?"

    "No," Wren cleared his throat. "I'm...No, I'm not married."

    He held up his left hand, wiggling his fingers and apologizing for
his bachelorhood by way of a chuckle. It had been his habit for some
years, since he'd turned forty at least, and it most often brought
sympathetic nods and knowing smiles in return. But not this time.

    "Good for you," Stacy held her drink high with her own left hand
and Wren couldn't help but notice that she wore no wedding band. She
sipped her eggnog and set the cup carefully on the bar.

    "Oh?" Wren smiled with some confusion and even the bartender
looked down the length of the bar at the happy sound of Stacy's voice.

    "You shouldn't be ashamed of that," she said, leaning closer
although the two of them were side-by-side already. "A man has every
right to bachelorhood."

    "I'm not ashamed of it," Wren said and then he looked down as he
realized Stacy's well manicured hand was now resting lightly on his
right knee.

    "Single men...Mature, single men," Stacy said softly, glancing over
her shoulder before confiding her secret, "are very attractive to a
lot of younger women."

    "Mature," Wren swallowed hard and he had to admit that was a good
word for him, considering he was pushing fifty.

    "Mature," Stacy nodded seriously. "A man like you," she licked her
lips, "could probably teach a girl like me quite a lot. Don't you
think?"

    Wren took Stacy's invitation to look at her. He'd been courteous
since the young woman's arrival, keeping his attention chaste and his
posture polite, but now he sat back slightly, letting his gaze travel
the length of the girl as she waited patiently for his judgment. 

    Stacy was beautiful and not in a purely physical sense, but more
as if an aesthetic virtue had been somehow misplaced in that drab
hotel bar. It wasn't merely her wonderfully sculpted body or even the
piquant smile that elevated her grace, Wren realized. It was the
texture of her presence that he found most exciting. Stacy seemed to
envelop his senses, suggesting no direction of specific passion, but a
more complete and aimless passage into the depths of desire.

    If such a thing could be said to exist, Wren decided, this was
magic. 

    "You're wondering how much," Stacy said abruptly and a myriad of
anguished thoughts filled the man.

    "What? No!" he protested immediately, but in truth the thought had
occurred to him. 

    "It's alright," she shrugged. "I should be flattered perhaps."

    "No, you shouldn't," Wren replied with forceful honesty. 

    "I'm not a prostitute," Stacy said.

    "I know," Wren agreed quickly. "I didn't think so..."

    "Three times before the cock crows?" she smiled.

    "...I just...Why me?" Wren continued, not hearing her small joke. He
looked around the piano lounge and it was largely deserted but for the
two of them.

    "Why not you?" Stacy asked. "It's getting late and we're alone."

    "Yes," he said, for lack of anything better.

    "I don't like to be alone, Wren," Stacy looked into his eyes.
"It's Christmas."

    "I know," he replied.

    "Maybe I just want to give someone a gift," she smiled
deliberately as if to break the sudden sobriety. "Even if it's only
me."

    "Only you?" Wren chuckled and shook his head at that. "Now I know
you're teasing me."

    "Never," Stacy whispered and her hand had remained on Wren's leg
and she reminded him of that with a gentle squeeze.

		=--=--=-=--=--=-==-=-=-=-=

    Stacy was curled up comfortably on the double bed as if she'd been
there waiting all night. Even before Wren had closed the door to his
room, she was sitting against the pillows with her long legs folded
beneath her. Stacy's hands were in her lap and she sat still in the
dark, erect with an attentive smile and those amber eyes unblinking.
They caught what little light there was, a friendly glow drifting
through large windows stained with frost. 

    "Can I turn on the light?" Wren asked and he was filled with a
curious mix of excitement and uncertainty.

    "Can't we leave them off?" Stacy replied softly. "Look, it's
snowing again. I like to watch it."

    "Oh, is it?" Wren wondered and he couldn't tear his eyes from
hers.

    "Don't be shy," her voice teased him with a soft laugh. "I won't
bite."

    "I've never met anyone like you," Wren said. "I don't even know...
How old are you?"

    "Old enough," Stacy smiled at him and reached with her left hand
to smooth her hair, which had fallen once more to cup her right
breast.

    Wren could see her like that, but only enough to wish for more.
She was a mirage, or a memory half-remembered, and he felt his
desperation growing. He took a step and then another and then paused
to kick off his shoes, feeling awkward and silly to be doing something
so mundane while Stacy waited patiently, stroking her hair and
smiling.

    "I'm sorry," Wren apologized.

    "For what?" Stacy tilted her head slightly, but her eyes didn't
waver from his.

    "Everything," Wren drew a wistful sigh. For not being thirty years
younger, he almost said.

    "Come here now," Stacy held out her hand, urging him closer with
her fingers. "Let me make it better for you."

    "You should be with someone else," Wren decided and he didn't
realize how close to her he'd come until Stacy reached for him.

    "Do you think so?" Stacy asked softly, reaching for the buttons on
his shirt. "Why?"

    "I'm old," Wren said, watching her ghostly fingers as they moved
down his chest and stomach. "I don't have anything."

    "I didn't ask for anything," Stacy said.

    "I know," Wren nodded slowly and she'd taken his left hand so that
she could undo his cufflinks.

    "Nothing except this," Stacy looked up at him as she dropped his
cufflink carelessly to the carpet.

    "I just..." Wren let her have his right hand.

    "What?"

    "I want to give you everything," Wren answered and his cuff came
loose so that Stacy could hold his hand in both of hers for a moment.

    "Maybe you will," she brought his hand to her face, kissing the
palm and then dragging her tongue across it briefly.

    "Oh," Wren stiffened with that simple and unexpected pleasure.

    "See?" Stacy smiled and she was now taking both of his shirt cuffs
in her hands, tugging insistently so that Wren shrugged his shoulders.

    His shirt was pulled down with his sleeves as Stacy drew the
cotton closer with her fists. The neck was stretched taut across
Wren's back, over his shoulder blades and there was nothing he could
do but step closer, until his legs felt the bed itself blocking his
way and still Stacy was pulling, playing with him as the man bent
forward and then down slowly. Wren felt bound and helpless and she
didn't stop until she could feel his breath on her face.

    "You're beautiful," Wren said and then he kissed her because it
was all he could do.

    Their lips were closed for a long heartbeat and another before
Wren felt Stacy's tongue doing what his could not. She licked across
his lips, the tip slipping between them until Wren surrendered and let
her inside. Stacy's tongue was quick and light, darting playfully into
Wren's mouth and tickling his own. The deliberate passion had been
replaced with something else in the blink of an eye and Wren struggled
to understand the woman's intentions.

    Stacy kissed Wren deeply and the flirtations of her tongue drew
his efforts to find her with his hands. But Stacy held the cuffs of
Wren's shirt tightly and for all his desire, he couldn't free himself
and had to content himself with stroking Stacy's hands and wrists
through the soft fabric. It was vaguely frustrating and an
unreasonable tease, considering that she was quickly welcoming Wren's
tongue into her mouth with a deep-throated sigh of pleasure.

    "Take this off now," Stacy breathed and she let go with her right
hand, tugging at Wren's right sleeve with her left.

    "Yeah," Wren agreed, turning his body and catching his breath as
his shirt came free of his body.

    Stacy bunched it up and tossed it away with a childish giggle that
made Wren laugh. She sat back again, smoothing her hair one more,
petting it with both hands while Wren pulled his t-shirt over his
head. He frowned then, naked from the waist up and catching sight of
his body. Embarrassed, Wren turned away slightly from the woman and it
wasn't so much shame that he felt, as disappointment that he couldn't
be someone else for her.

    "None of that now," Stacy was already moving off the bed and she
stood behind him, putting her arms around Wren's soft stomach, thick
and soft with many years. "This is what I see..." she whispered and her
hands moved to cover Wren's rapid heart, pressing against his chest
while she kissed his shoulder.

    "Who are you?" Wren asked her, closing his eyes and imagining
himself as he'd been half a lifetime before, thin and strong with
youth. His doubts fled before that image and all that remained was the
woman and her tender touch.

    "A lonely soul far from home..." Stacy sighed and her hands moved
down once more, "...like you."

    Wren surrendered as she undid his belt and trousers, slipping her
hands inside the man's boxers to find his semi-hard cock. She
undressed him completely, pausing only long enough to tease Wren's
erection with her lips and tongue, kissing the smooth glans and
licking along the shaft so that his penis jerked and bobbed up and
down of its own accord.

    Then it was her turn and Wren unwrapped the woman like a gift that
he'd waited for his entire life. His hands shook with nervous energy
and Wren's eyes constantly sought reassurance from Stacy's patient
gaze. Whatever part of her wasn't beautiful or perfect was rendered so
by Wren's desire, and perhaps by her own countenance as well. He could
find no flaw as he released the woman's breasts from their lace
captivity. Stacy's nipples were long and hard and lifted toward heaven
and she laughed lightly as Wren kissed them gently, one and then the
other. 

    He removed her dress and panties, holding his breath all the while
and when he saw her lovely vulva covered with a thin gauze of pubic
hair, Wren let it out with a small shiver.

    "You were afraid I was hiding a penis?" Stacy laughed and Wren
looked up from his knees, shaking his head and telling her honestly
that the thought hadn't entered his mind.

    "You're beautiful," Wren had long before decided and Stacy
balanced herself with a hand on Wren's shoulders as she stepped out of
her panties.

    "So you've told me," she teased him with a tone of playful doubt.
"I'll have to believe you soon, I think."

    "I know," Wren sighed happily and he could smell the woman now.
Not her perfume or soap, or anything artificial, but only her. He
licked his lips and imagined he could taste her on his tongue.

    "Do you want to...kiss me? There?"

    "I want to kiss you everywhere," Wren whispered and he would have
been willing to crawl across the floor if Stacy demanded it, but she
pulled him to his feet instead.

    "Bring me to bed," Stacy whispered, "and you will."

    Wren lifted the woman in his arms, cradling her naked form to his
with an arm beneath her knees and the other behind Stacy's back. He
wouldn't have dared such a thing if he'd thought about it and for a
fleeting moment he wondered if perhaps that wasn't the story of his
life. He'd thought too much and dared to little, and he lifted her
easily, surprising himself and Stacy as well. She rewarded Wren with a
soft squeal of pleasure and a breathless giggle beneath a kiss to his
cheek.

    There was an equality to their lovemaking Wren had never
experienced before. A sharing that he found both comforting and
distressing as he inevitably compared that evening with others in his
life. Wren's face would be drawn then, his smile evaporating briefly,
until Stacy caught him. She'd touch him and kiss him, whispering
occasionally when he needed something more. She was beneath him when
Wren's orgasm arrived and she uttered no protest, no hint of
reluctance when her clasping sex accepted his urgent seed. Stacy held
him tightly, their bodies bound by her arms and legs and the union of
their climax. It was a long moment and precious to the man and he was
reluctant to let her go. 

    "Was it good for you?" Wren asked Stacy a few minutes later, ruddy
with the exertions of pleasure and now on his back beside her.

    "It was perfect," she sighed, turning to face him and putting her
hand once more on his chest. "You're a good man, Wren."

    He smiled at that and nodded slowly, taking her words as a
compliment and hoping they were true. Stacy's hand caressed his damp
skin and beneath her fingers his heart refused to slow. Wren paid
little mind and the palpitation in his chest was a small burden for
the joy of being with her. A good man. He closed his eyes and wished
it were so, and how much different would his life have been had he
heard those words before tonight?

    Wren's heart was beating fast and his lungs labored as if under a
great weight. Something dark and heavy was smothering him. He tried to
smile in his confusion, turning his head to see Stacy looking at him
with warm, compassionate eyes. She moved her face closer, kissing
Wren's lips tenderly. A shock of pain struck him, a sharp cramp in his
heart below Stacy's hand. She was soothing him and the pain wasn't so
bad. But another followed, a shock of lightning shooting through his
left shoulder and down his arm.

    "Wha..." he tried to speak and fear clouded the man's eyes. Wren's
heart strained and stopped, and burst into rapid life for a long
second before stopping again.

    "Shhh..." Stacy whispered, kissing the man as a tear ran down one
pale cheek and fell onto his. "Your travels are done. I'm going to
take you home now."

    The pain passed mercifully and with it Wren's fear as the Angel of
Death drew him to her breast one last time.



The end
rache696@yahoo.com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rache/www/index.htm

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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
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