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From: "J'onn J'onzz" <mstrhole@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} David Donaldson Chronicles Chapter 13: David Takes a Vacation M/F, Techno Magic, Romance
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Date: Tue, 07 Apr 2015 06:10:02 -0400
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Please Post.


The writing exercise continues.  A little romance this time to go along
with some hot, sweaty, sex.  Nothing too kinky.  MF, Techno Magic, Romance


*...all ideologies are totalitarian. *--* Raoul Vaneigem*
<1st attachment, "David Donaldson Chronicles Chapter 13.txt" begin>

David Donaldson Chronicles Chapter 13: David Takes a Vacation M/F, Techno
Magic, Romance

   At the urging of my assistant, Julia, I decided to take a vacation.  I
own points in a resort system, and it seemed likely that a couple of weeks
in Florida's sunshine would do me no harm.

   "Who knows, boss," Julia said, laughing, "Maybe you'll get laid."

   So, that was how I had come to be strolling through the gate to the
"quiet pool" at the Tuscany Village in Orlando.  I had a copy of the third
volume of "The Last Chronicles of Thomas Covenant" in one hand and a bottle
of sun block in the other.  Back home it was cold and gray, but in Orlando
the weather was delightful - bright sunshine and 80 degrees.  I was
content, even though I hadn't had any sex for three days.  Sunlight always
has a positive effect on me.

   I had mostly avoided trying to save the world with my techno-magical
software, the Master PC - once you start, where do you stop?  Oh I'd helped
the local police, and improved the lives of my immediate family members. 
And, yes, I had intervened in Crystal's life; played the Good Samaritan;
set her on a whole new (positive) path.  Then she'd shown up at my office
one day asking some very perceptive, not to mention dangerous, questions. I
resolved, on the spot, after deflecting those questions, to restrain my
more altruistic impulses in the future.  After all, no good deed goes
unpunished.

   But my resolve evaporated when I spotted the stunningly beautiful
brunette at the pool.  She was pretty, looked mid-to-late 50's and in
marvelous shape.  Killer smile.  Beautiful eyes.  And a tremor.  The signs
of Parkinson's disease were there to see for anyone who knew what to look
for.  In spite of the subtle signs of a serious illness I was instantly
attracted to her.  I love all women, but my preference tends toward
physical and mental maturity - even more so than pure looks.  This lady was
very well groomed, obviously spent serious gym time, and I was, as I said,
immediately taken with her.

   I selected a lounge chair near, but not too near the lovely but so far
anonymous brunette, and, under the cover of sun glasses, conducted
surveillance.  No children (grand children?) nearby, no husband or
boyfriend in evidence, no wedding band visible, although there were other
rings on her well manicured fingers.  She appeared to be alone.  She was
reading Michio Kaku's "Physics of the Future" and had apparently just seen
something amusing.  My attraction meter kicked up another few points.  And,
I liked her smile.

   I ran through and rejected a number of scenarios that might result in my
obtaining her name.  I decided to be patient and watch for an opening,
trusting that some strategy or other would occur when the moment was right.
Thanks to the inevitability of narrative causality, I didn't have to wait
long.

   The object of my affection, or at least my attention, closed her book
and got up.  As she walked in my direction the toe of her sandal caught on
a minor imperfection in the stonework around the pool, and she tripped,
falling directly across my body.

   "Oh!"

   My lightning like reflexes, enhanced a thousand fold by the Master PC,
enabled me to catch the woman before she tumbled to the flagstones.

   "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she said, embarrassed.

   "No problem.  Having a beautiful woman fall into his lap would represent
the high point of any man's day," I responded with a warm smile, gently
helping her to stand up.

   "Are you all right?" I asked.

   "Yes, I think so.  Just clumsy I guess," she said.

   I put out my hand, which she took.

   "David Donaldson, rescuer of maidens in distress, at your service," I
said with a little bow.

   "Amy Lucella," she replied, withdrawing her hand quickly.  She was
suddenly very self conscious and I knew why.

   "You must have caught the front edge of your sandal on one of the joints
between the flagstones," I said, pointing down at the pavement and steering
the conversation away from the awkward reef it was about to strike.

   "Good thing you were here to catch me then," Amy said with a shy smile.

   "Vivo ergo servio" I said, making another small bow.  "I'm going for a
swim.  Care to join me?"

   "Oh, that would be nice, but I have a massage appointment and I'm going
to be late if I don't get going," Amy said.

   "I'm sure to be here tomorrow if you care to drop in on me again," I
said.

   "I'll remember that," Amy laughed over her shoulder as she walked away.

   I went into the pool, swam about two dozen laps, got out, dried off, and
returned to my condo.  During my lap swim I'd been doing some serious
thinking.  By the time I reached my unit, my mind was made up.  I was going
to do something nice for someone, but limit the interference to the health
related issues only.

   I fired up my laptop, put on some clean clothes, grabbed a soda from the
fridge, and prepared to go to work.  Calling up the Master PC program, I
quickly had an image of Amy Lucella revolving slowly in front of me. 
Seconds later, I had an inventory of her ailments, including the
Parkinson's.  With a few key strokes and the click of a mouse button or
two, those were taken care of.  It was tempting to make a few other
adjustments/improvements while I was at it.  But I had made my decision and
stuck with it.  I shut down the program and picked up the phone.

   "Front desk?  This is David Donaldson in 4715, would you please connect
me to Miss Amy Lucella?  Thanks."

   I heard a few clicks and then got voice mail for Amy's room.

   "This is Amy Lucella.  Please leave a message after the beep."

   BEEP

   "Hi Amy.  David Donaldson here - we met at the pool this afternoon - I
was wondering if you were free for dinner tonight.  I know it seems a bit
forward, but I'm at this resort all alone and meals for one are boring,
even if you have a good book.  I'm in 4715 if you want to call me. 
Thanks."

   Having put my best foot forward, I went back to my computer and did some
work.  It wouldn't do to take two weeks off completely.  I had to at least
stay current with what was happening in the office.  After cleaning the
spam out of my inbox, I picked up my smart phone and called the office. 
After a few too many rings, Julia answered, sounding rather out of breath.

   "A-2-Z ...  consulting ...  Julia speaking ...  how may I direct your
call?"

   "It's me."

   "Oh!  Hi David," she said and I could hear the smile in her voice.  I
could also hear the sounds of at least two other female voices in the
background and it didn't sound like any work was getting done.  I grinned.

   "While the boss is away the staff will play, eh?"

   "It's Friday, Boss."

   I heard a high pitched squeal coming back down the connection and then
Julia's voice scolding someone.

   "FOR GOODNESS SAKE!  Don't put your tongue there when I'm on the phone!"

   "Who's there with you?"

   "Allie and Crystal."

   "Mmmmm-mmmm, I'm sure sorry to miss that."

   "We miss you too, although Crystal brought a new strap-on with her and
we've been putting it to good use."

   "Ahhhh, that explains why you were out of breath when you answered the
phone."

   Julia giggled.  "Was there something you needed?  How's the vacation
going?"

   "Nothing special - just checking in.  If you want to know the truth, I
was just feeling kind of lonely without my office posse."

   "Harem, more like it," Julia chuckled into the phone.  "So you mean that
the great David Donaldson, stud supreme, hasn't scored yet"

   "I haven't really been trying, at least not yet, although there was a
really pretty brunette at the pool today I thought I'd like to get to know
better.  Sex would be great, but the truth is I'd like someone to spend
some time with - sort of a companion."

   "Hmmmm...thinking of getting married again?"

   "Not a chance.  But, like I said, I did spot a person of interest
anyway. I'll let you know what happens."

   "I'm sure you'll charm her panties right off.  You sure did mine," Julia
said with a smile that was obvious even from 1400 miles away.

   "I never knew you wore any," I said, teasing.

   "Was there anything else you wanted?  I'm wearing a 10" strap-on and
I've got two young whores kneeling on the sofa whose juicy pussies are
winking at me like a couple of mares in heat."

   "Just checking in, Julia.  Go take care of those mares," I said,
smiling. I ended the call; made myself a large Plymouth and tonic with lots
of fresh lime, took my book, and went out onto the balcony to spend some
quality time with one of my favorite authors.

   I was on my second g&t when the phone rang - not the cell, but the room
phone.  I walked back into the living room and picked up the receiver.

   "David Donaldson," I said.

   "Oh, I was looking for Sir Galahad."

   "I'm often mistaken for him.  Is this Amy?"

   "Yes.  I got your message."

   There was a nervous pause.  I resisted filling it.

   "I'm not sure, David.  You seem like a nice man, and I appreciate you
saving me from some badly bruised knees, at the very least, this
afternoon."

   My heart sank.

   "But surely you must have noticed ..."

   "That you have Parkinson's Disease?"

   "Yes."

   "Does that mean you no longer take meals?"

   "I tend to take them alone."

   "Not a good idea.  I tell you what.  We don't have to go out.  There's a
gas grill right down stairs.  I can go to the market across the street and
get a couple of steaks and baking potatoes, some salad fixings, a bottle of
wine, and we can have dinner in private."

   "I don't know, David, I...."

   "Please?" I tried to keep the pleading tone out of my voice.  I heard a
dry chuckle from the other end.

   "Pardon me for saying this, Mr.  Donaldson, but you don't seem like the
type of man who would lack for companionship.  Why are you asking me to
dine with you?"

   "Would you believe I'm a sucker for beautiful brunettes?"

   "Of a certain age?"

   "Of any age, but I prefer my companions to be mature, in every sense."

   "<sigh> I may regret this, but, all right, you've convinced me.  What
time?"

   I looked at my watch.  It was 3:00 p.m.

   "Let's say cocktails at 5:30 and dinner at 6:00.  I'm in building number
four, seventh floor.  4715."
"5:30.  See you then, David."

   "I look forward to it, Amy."

   I replaced the receiver, grabbed car keys, phone, and wallet, and headed
out the door.  I returned a little while later with several bags of
groceries, a couple of bottles of good wine, and some candles.

   I prepared the potatoes, scrubbing them thoroughly, drying them with
paper towel, cutting off the ends, poking them with a fork, and coating
them with a thin layer of soft butter.  I set them on a small plate in the
fridge.  I didn't have any table linens, but I set the table as best I
could, put a pair of martini glasses in the freezer along with the shaker,
added candles to the table, and stood there wondering what was missing.

   "Flowers!"

   Concierge to the rescue!  I soon had a small arrangement placed in the
middle of the table with candles on either side.

   "There.  I think that will do nicely."

   While the oven preheated I made a check of the place, making sure there
weren't any spare items of clothing lying about, dirty laundry sticking out
from some place it shouldn't, magazines straightened on the coffee table,
etc.  I found a soft jazz station on the stereo and set the volume low. 
Then I changed my mind and turned the music off.  I was suddenly as nervous
as a teenager at his first prom.

   I looked at the clock, put the potatoes in the oven and went into the
bedroom to prepare myself for the evening.

   I took a shower, shaved, splashed on some Vetiver, slipped on a pair of
freshly pressed khakis and a polo shirt, and slipped into a pair of leather
sandals.  One final check in the mirror and I was ready.

   Just after 5:30, there was a knock at my door.

   "Here's a knocking indeed," I muttered.

   I opened the door.  Suddenly I was face to face with the source of my
apprehension.  When you have the "god key" to life it's easy to get lazy
and just guarantee a win all the time.  I hadn't done that in this case so
I looked on the prospect of the evening with a great deal of excitement and
no little trepidation.

   "Hi, Amy!" I said.  I know, not exactly a killer line.  "C'mon in," I
added - not a brilliant follow up either, but she didn't run away
screaming.

   "Hello, David," she replied, stepping across the threshold.  She was
wearing a white sun dress which contrasted nicely with both her tan and her
lustrous brown, almost auburn, hair.  The dress was held up by a pair of
spaghetti strings tied at the top of each shoulder.  Her legs were bare and
smooth and her feet were encased in a pair of white sandals.  I caught a
whiff of something expensive as she walked by me.  My pulse was racing.  I
could tell she was very nervous and I also noticed something else - her
tremor was gone.

   OK, Amy was here.  Now what?  I'm normally very glib - to a fault
according to some - and being at a loss for words was an unfamiliar
experience.

   "Thanks for coming over, Amy," I said.

   "I'm not sure why I did, to be honest," Amy replied.

   I escorted her to the living room and she took a seat on the sofa.  I
had two choices - sit next to her, or on an overstuffed chair adjacent to
the sofa.  Both pieces of furniture were oriented to the plasma screen in
the entertainment center placing them awkwardly for conversation.  So I did
not sit down.

   "Martini?  Glass of wine?  Something else?"

   She sighed.

   "I haven't had a martini in years.  Why not?  Sure.  I'll have one if
you are.  I feel different right now and I'm not sure what that's about."

   I retreated to the kitchen - just a few steps actually, and prepared a
shaker of martinis; pouring them into the chilled glasses, adding the
requisite olive to each, and carrying them carefully back to the living
room.  I set both glasses on the coffee table in front of the sofa and then
grabbed a chair from the nearby dining room table and placed it across the
coffee table from where Amy sat.

   She picked up her glass and so did I.

   "Success to crime," I said.

   She looked at me with a mildly quizzical expression and then, suddenly,
she looked at her glass, or rather the hand that was holding the glass. 
She gave a little shriek and dropped the glass, which by some miracle did
not break and did not tip over.  It rocked a little, sloshing a good
portion of its contents onto the glass top and then was still.  Amy just
sat there staring at her hand.  She held up the other one and stared at it.


   "Amy?  Are you all right?"

   She stood up suddenly and raced down the front hall and into the
bathroom.  I heard the door close.  I knew what she was doing - she was
looking at herself in the mirror.  She had seen that her hands had stopped
shaking.  Now she wanted to see the rest.  I got a cloth from the kitchen
and cleaned up the spilled gin.  I refilled Amy's martini glass and set it
back on the coffee table.  I turned down the oven so the potatoes wouldn't
over cook.  I sat down in the chair across from the sofa and sipped my
martini.  After a while I heard the sounds of a toilet flushing and water
running in the bathroom quickly followed by footsteps on the marble floor
and then on the carpet.  I looked up.

   Amy's face was a mixture of expressions.  She was confused, excited,
frightened, and embarrassed - all at the same time.

   "I - I - I - apologize for my behavior.  You must think I'm insane or
something."

   "Tell me what's wrong, Amy," I said.

   "You know I have - had - Parkinson's Disease."

   "Yes."

   "You saw my tremor."

   She held out her hand and it was as steady as a rock, assuming you
discount that trembling brought on by nervousness and excitement.

   "You see?  And my head - it's not shaking or anything."

   "Yes, I see.  What do you think has happened?"

   "I don't know.  I don't know.  I don't ...  know.  A miracle maybe?"

   "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of
in your philosophy."

   "Shakespeare?"

   "Well spotted.  The point is that we can't always explain what happens
in this life."

   "It's just that I've lived with this condition long enough to have
accepted it as normal.  Is it gone?  Is this some cruel trick?  Will I wake
up tomorrow and this will all have been some sort of dream?"

   "What are you going to do?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "Well, if it were me, I'd be on the phone to my doctor."

   "I happen to know that he's on vacation in the Bahamas."

   "No one local you could consult?"

   "No."

   "Well, in that case, if you don't mind some free advice, why not just
enjoy yourself and let tomorrow take care of tomorrow?"

   For a moment, I thought she might get up and leave.  After all she'd
been through a life altering experience.  She'd been cured, presumably,
from a life threatening and physically debilitating illness.  And, here I
was proposing that she just enjoy herself.  She looked at me with a
thoughtful expression.  There was another long pause that I refused to
fill.

   "Yes.  Yes, I think that's a good idea."

   I raised my glass.  "To new beginnings."

   "To new beginnings," she replied.  We clinked glasses and each took a
pull of the sharp clear liquid.

   "Very nice.  I don't recall the last time I had a martini.  This is very
good."

   "Thank you.  Gin and tonic is my usual drink but I wanted to do
something special this evening.  Now, would you like to help me finish
getting dinner ready?"

   "Lay on MacDuff."

   "Once more unto the breach dear friends, once more..."

   "Are we going to spend the rest of the evening trading Elizabethan one
liners?"

   "God, I hope not," I said, and we both laughed.

   Amy and I took the steaks down stairs where we found a grill not already
in use.  About 20 minutes later we headed back to my suite, opened the
wine, put the food on the table, and shared a delightful meal with lively
conversation.  By the end of the meal we were, if nothing else, friends.

   "Dessert?"

   "Oh, no, I ate too much already."

   I opened a bottle of Australian Muscat and poured us each a small glass.

   "Come on, let's go sit on the balcony."

   I held out my hand and she took it.  I handed her a glass of the dark
red wine, picked mine up, and led her to the little balcony off the living
room.  There were two chairs and a small table.  We sat down and each took
a sip of the rich, almost thick, dessert wine.

   "If you put whipped cream on this, it WOULD be dessert," Amy said,
smiling.

   "But let's not - I think the vintner would object."

   We sipped our wine in companionable silence.

   "Why did you ask me to have dinner with you, David?"

   "I was lonely.  I hoped to meet someone here and spend some time with
them while visiting this fair city.  I saw you, and, as I said, I'm a
sucker for pretty brunettes.  I decided to take a chance.  So there you
are."

   "But, my tremor didn't put you off?"

   "No."

   "Really?"

   "I'd like to think that I'm not that shallow."

   "Fair enough."

   "Hey, I've got an idea - let's get our swimsuits on and go down to the
hot tub and hang out for a while.  It would be nice and relaxing."

   "Hmmmm...sure, let's."

   "I'll go get my suit on and then I can walk you over to your room and
you can change too."

   I got up and walked back through the bedroom and into the master bath. I
grabbed my suit and quickly stripped out of my slacks and shirt, replacing
them with the swimming trunks.  Then I walked back into the bedroom.  Amy
was there.  Naked.  On my bed.  On her side facing me.  Smiling.

   "I had a thought while you were changing.  I hope I haven't been too
forward," she said.

   I smiled back at her and in about 2 seconds I was as naked as she was. I
stood there for a moment, just looking at her.  She had a lush, mature,
figure.  She was not fat at all, but mature women, even mature women who
work out a lot, tend to fill out just a little and I like that.  Her
breasts had just the tiniest bit sag to them - they were "real" rather than
the surgically enhanced variety.  Her pubic bush was trimmed but still
there - she was no porn star or bikini model after all.  Her skin tone was
excellent.  My cock was almost instantly hard.

   "There's one question answered," she said, looking directly at Mr. 
Happy.

   "I like the way you think, Amy.  This is a way better idea than the hot
tub," I responded, climbing up on the bed and laying next to her.

   "Did you think the evening would end up like this?"

   "Honestly?  No, but I was definitely open to the idea."

   "So you admit that you had ulterior motives for inviting me to dinner?"

   "I'll admit that I hoped I'd get to know you better and then see what
developed."

   "Touche."

   I leaned over and kissed her on the lips, lightly, once and then again.
Her perfume was light and a little spicy.  I'd have to find out what it was
and buy a bottle - I liked it.  Her mouth tasted of muscat.  I kissed her
again and she put her arms around my neck, pulling me close.  I wrapped my
arms around her body and pulled her even closer as our tongues and lips
began exchanging information of a carnal nature.

   Amy pressed her belly against me and I enjoyed the sensation of her warm
soft flesh against my hard cock.  She apparently enjoyed the contact too
because she moaned into my mouth.  Later, as we lay twined in post coital
languor, I would learn that it had been several years since Amy had last
enjoyed sexual intercourse, which explained her lack of patience at this
point in the proceedings.

   Amy forcefully pushed me over on my back, swung a leg over my waist,
gripped my cock in one hand, aimed it at her pussy, fitted the head to the
opening, and wriggled her way down until our groins met.

   She groaned the whole way down - it was almost spooky.  The sound was
part growl, part moan, and all need.  Her eyes were tightly shut; her face
a mask of concentration.  When she had all of me inside, she looked down.
Her hands went to my chest as she leaned forward.  Then she began to move
her hips.  Up and down; slowly at first savoring every inch of contact,
trying to make it last.  But she couldn't help herself.  Her hips had a
mind of their own and they decided to push the pace.  Soon she was bouncing
up and down on my dick at a fairly rapid rate.

   Me?  I was just along for the ride.  I kept up with her stroke for
stroke.  I had a sense that she was working toward some sort of emotional
catharsis.  Her eyes closed again and her face wore a grim expression full
of lust and highly distilled emotion.  I could feel her juices trickling
down across my balls on every down stroke and hear the sucking sounds of
wet flesh coupling and decoupling.  Her strokes were getting shorter and
her breath was a series of arrhythmic gasps until, with a cry, she plunged
down and held me deep inside.

   She went into a paralysis of pleasure; her entire body went rigid and I
felt her internal muscles clamp down hard on my cock and then ripple
rhythmically massaging my entire length.  She was, to put it mildly,
"cumming."

   I pulled her torso down to me and started vigorously pumping my hips,
slamming myself against her.  She was practically shouting "Oh!  Oh!  Oh!"
until I covered her mouth with mine and we kissed hungrily.  Her orgasms
were arriving one after another like train cars behind a speeding
locomotive.  My arms were wrapped around her crushing her against my body,
pinning her in place as I pounded her pussy.  She pounded right back.  Our
timing was great and we fucked like a well oiled machine.  Finally, she
broke the kiss.

   "OH GOD!  OH MY GOD!" became her mantra for about a minute before she
pulled herself away from me and rolled off onto the bed.  She lay there
panting, her chest (and a lovely chest it was) heaving, her body shaking
with the aftershocks of pleasure.

   I rolled toward her and turned her face to mine for a kiss.  My hands
gently stroked her heaving flanks, causing her to twitch as if I'd
delivered a mild electric shock.

   I did *not* say anything like "was it good for you?" In fact, I didn't
say anything.  I kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her forehead, the line of
her jaw, and down her neck to her breasts, to which I paid some (belated)
attention.  She moaned as I tenderly kissed and licked her left breast
leaving the turgid nipple wet and shining as my mouth moved southward. 
There were beads of perspiration on her belly and I savored their salty
tang.  I worked my way back up to her chest, which was no longer heaving,
and leaned across her body to pay tribute to her right breast this time,
kissing and licking the nipple to rigid attention.  Eventually my mouth
wandered back to hers and we kissed passionately.

   She smiled.  She stretched languorously - a movement so feline in its
grace that I half expected to hear her purr.

   "Thank you, David.  I needed that."

   She pulled me back down for another kiss.  Then she felt my still hard
cock poke against her outer thigh.

   "Oh!" she said, breaking the kiss, "You're still hard.  Did you cum?"

   "Not yet, you sexy woman, but the night is young," I replied, with a
Groucho like waggle of my eye brows.  She giggled.

   "Well, put it back in.  I want you to have as much pleasure as you gave
me," she said.

   "How could I refuse such a graciously worded invitation?"

   I knelt between her legs.  I grabbed Amy behind her knees and pushed her
legs up and apart, opening her tender grotto to my gaze and my cock.  Her
inner labia were swollen and colored a deep burgundy.  They shone in the
dim bedroom light with a heavy coating of her exudates.

   "Put it in," I said in a low voice.

   She took my cock in her soft hands, moaning as she felt its hardness and
the throbbing of my blood flowing through it.  She put her hand to her
mouth and gathered a little saliva which she then transferred to the deep
red helmet of my steaming stalk.  I moved forward and she guided me to the
vestibule of her sex notching the head just inside.  She let go and I
pushed slowly sheathing myself in her hot wet channel.

   "Ahhhhhhh," I breathed savoring the satiny wetness of her tight vaginal
walls.  She was amazingly tight for a woman her age and I wondered,
briefly, if she'd had any children.  Or, if she'd had some surgical help,
as many women do these days.

   These were, as I said, brief thoughts.  I was now, with Amy's
permission, focused as much on my pleasure as hers.  It had been several
days since I'd last had sex and since I'd used the Master PC to give myself
the libido of a teenage boy that was like an eon.

   I pushed her legs farther back until her knees were almost even with her
chest.  She was wide open to me now and I was fucking almost straight down
into the seething cauldron of her pussy.  I closed my eyes and began to
bang her like a cheap drum.

   Our preliminary bout had not sated my new lover - far from it.  She had
a backlog of orgasms to collect and I was the delivery boy.  She responded
enthusiastically to my lovemaking pushing her pelvis against me on every
stroke, grunting like a sow as I pounded her, pushing air out of her lungs
in spite of her compressed diaphragm.  I knew she would not last long in
this position and I quickened my pace.

   Amy's mouth formed a wordless, almost soundless "Oh" as I went into
overdrive.  My balls spanked her anal opening on each stroke with a wet
"slap." They were full and needed to be emptied.

   "Cum for me David," she gasped through clenched teeth as another climax
overtook her.  "Give it to me.  Give me your cum, baby."

   I complied.

   "Here ...  it ...  COMES!  Take it!  Take it!  Take it" I cried as my
internal plumbing released a torrent of semen into her waiting receptacle.
Fireworks went off in my head as she milked me with her (obviously) well
trained pussy muscles.  For a moment I feared that I would lose
consciousness.

   There is absolutely no feeling in the world that can compare with having
your dick buried balls deep in a wet, willing, climaxing pussy.  This
moment reminded me why I loved sex so much.

   After the first few blasts of man goo, I began fucking Amy again,
delivering a fresh load of semen on each stroke.  There was no room for all
this liquid in her channel and it was forced out around my cock to run down
her ass crack and drip on the duvet cover.

   I let her legs go.  They flopped onto the bed like a rag doll.  I slowed
my motion, sliding my still erect cock gently in and out of her overflowing
center.  Leaning down I claimed her mouth once more kissing her deeply and
thoroughly as the last twitches of my masculine plumbing sent a final
trickle of seminal fluid to join the flood.  I flexed my cock inside her.
She moaned.

   "Oh my god," she whispered.

   "I'll second that," I said, smiling down at her.  My cock had started to
shrink, losing some of its hardness, but it was still substantial as I
moved it back and forth through her tenderized tissues.  Each movement
brought a gasp of pleasure.  God I love women.

   I pulled out of her with a plop and my now limp cock fell wetly onto my
thigh as I moved off of Amy and lay down next to her again.  She rolled
into my arms and we lay thus connected in post coital contentment.

   "Thank you," Amy said.

   "You're welcome," I replied, kissing her.  There was the faintest
suspicion of tears in the corners of her eyes.

   She put her head on my chest.  We lay quietly like that for a while. 
Every now and then I felt a shudder go through Amy's body.

   "Are you OK?"

   "Yes," came the muffled reply, but I could tell that she'd been very
quietly weeping.

   I rolled her onto her back so that I could see her face.  The tear
tracks were there just as I thought they'd be.

   I kissed those tracks, kissed the end of Amy's cute little nose, and
kissed her on the lips.

   "I never thought I'd ever enjoy myself like this again," she whispered.

   "But now you have, and you will," I replied, kissing her again.

   "Yes.  I *definitely* will," she said with a growl.

   She pushed me over on my back and crawled on top of me, kissing me again
and again; her passion's fires clearly not banked for the evening.

   Her mouth moved down my neck, paused for a moment at my chest, and
continued down across my belly to my crotch, which was, to say the least, a
mess.  My admiration for Amy Lucella increased even further as, without any
hesitation, she began to lick and suck my sticky, slimy, cum coated cock
and balls.  "Lick and suck" is really not an apt description.  This woman
was hungry and I was the buffet.  My cock roared back to life; fully,
throbbingly, erect in seconds.

   Amy pounced on my slimy dick gripping the base and sucking it like it
was the last lollipop in the candy store.  Her combination of eager sucking
and fisting soon had me bucking my hips up off the bed.

   "Turn around," I gasped.

   Amy stopped her enthusiastic cock gobbling for just a moment and then
twisted her body around throwing a leg over my torso and presenting me with
the appetizing site of her freshly fucked quim.  I pulled her hips down so
that I could get at the creamy treasure.  This also had the affect of
aligning her throat with my cock.  I plunged my tongue into her gash as I
pumped my hips up off the bed, essentially "spit roasting" her.  She
grunted around her mouthful of cock as I went to work on her pussy with my
lips and tongue.

   For a while the only sounds in the room were the animalistic noises of
two people having sex; wet, hot, dirty, lusty, nasty, sloppy, sex.

   I dug into her gash with my tongue, rooting around in all her folds,
nooks, and crannies, leaving no square centimeter unexplored, while Amy did
her best to swallow as much of my vorpal sword as she could manage.  She
was rocking back and forth pushing her pussy into my face and then pushing
her face onto my cock.  I grabbed her hips and pulled her down to me.  I
fastened my lips on her clit and lashed the little nubbin mercilessly with
my tongue.  I worked my fingers into her crack and managed to slip one into
her pussy and one into her asshole, which still had a liberal coating of
our combined spending from the previous bout of love.

   Her head came up off my cock like a trout taking a mayfly, and she
screamed.  It was primal and visceral.  It was high and loud and long.  A
flood of juices cascaded down onto my face and into my waiting mouth as she
exploded in her most powerful orgasm yet.  Her thighs repeatedly clamped
themselves around my head.  She fucked my face with her gushing pussy.  She
was gasping for breath like an out of shape distance runner.

   And then she collapsed like a marionette with cut strings.  I managed to
roll her off me and swing myself around so that I could check her
condition. She wasn't dead.  Even in the dim light that came from the open
bathroom door I could clearly see a pulse throbbing in her neck.  Her mouth
was open.  Her breathing was still rapid.  It was as if her nervous system
overloaded and her brain had just gone on break.

   Her body was completely relaxed, muscles bereft of instructions from
headquarters.  I put my arms around her and just spooned her, gently
stroking her right shoulder and upper thigh, waiting for her to come
around. My cock was still an iron bar between us, nestled in the small of
Amy's back.

   "Ohhhhhhhh," Amy sighed as she came out of her post orgasmic fugue. 
"What happened?"

   "I think you came," I murmured into her nape as I nuzzled her with my
lips.  She giggled.  It was a delightful sound in the quiet room.  I kept
nuzzling.

   "Mmmmmm...that's nice," she whispered.

   She pressed her back more firmly against my cock.

   "Well, what do we have here?"

   She moved her body so that my cock slid between her ass cheeks and
rubbed against her puffy pussy lips.  She reached between her legs,
adjusted her position slightly, and suddenly my cock was sliding into her
warm, humid, depths once more.

   "Ahhhhh," I sighed, enjoying the feeling of being surrounded by her
warmth and the gentle friction Amy created as she moved slightly back and
forth.  I adjusted my own position for a better angle and then began a
complementary movement of my own - more of a counterpoint, actually.  It
was a leisurely fuck, as fucks go, sort of like a light dessert after a
heavy meal, or a tot of Grand Marnier.

   I casually stroked her breasts and strummed her nipples with my fingers
as we moved back and forth in our carnal pavane.  The air around us was a
fug of sweat, semen, pussy juice, and pheromones.  Neither of us noticed
the odors but they acted as a potent stimulant to our lovemaking.

   "Mmmmmm...this is nice, David, it's been too long since anyone made me
feel this way," Amy said.

   "Galahad to the rescue again," I whispered, nibbling on her right ear.

   We maintained our slow sensuous pace for a few minutes.  Our arousal was
building once again and I decided to move things along a bit.  I rolled Amy
over onto her belly, moving with her so that my cock never left the warm
wet confines of her pussy.  I put my legs outside of her hips.  This gave
me some freedom of movement.  She cocked her hips up a bit and spread her
legs a little and we began to fuck more vigorously.  The head of my cock
was hitting her G-spot on every stroke and I could tell she liked this
because she was moaning continuously and giving occasional yelps of
pleasure as I hit the mark.  She was rapidly climbing the stairway to
orgasm and I was enjoying the feeling of her warm, wet, interior gripping
and releasing my tumescent phallus.

   I continued to spear her pussy with my cock, hitting Amy's g-spot on
every stroke and it wasn't long before she started cumming again, only this
time, there was something extra.

   "Oh my god!  Wha-wha-what's happening!" she babbled.  There was more,
but why write it all down?  It was rather repetitive.  Her whole body shook
but not because she was sick.  It was more of an Ariella-Fererra-type-shake
that started with her feet and worked its way up her body.

   Her pussy clamped down almost painfully on my dick and she released a
flood of girl cum.  She ejected my dick from her grotto and her hands flew
to her pussy mound as her sex-quake continued.  I knelt patiently between
her legs while she rubbed her pussy and continued to spray the bed (I was
going to have some explaining to do to the housekeeping department).  When
her spasms abated a bit, I plunged back into her steaming valley and
resumed ravaging her tender tissues.

   "FUCK!"

   Hearing that curse word coming from her lips was extra erotic.  If she
said "cunt" I was going to cum for sure.  Ordinarily, I don't like it when
women use coarse language in conversation.  Frankly, I don't like it that
much when men talk like that either.  But, during sex?  That's a whole
different ball game.  When a woman loses control to the point where she'll
say words like "fuck" and "cunt" it really gets me.

   Her face was buried in the duvet cover but her moans and incoherent
attempts at speech were still audible as I pounded her with long hard
strokes.  I could tell she was wearing down, her physical and emotional
reserves waning.  I slowed the pace.  I moved us back to the spoon position
we'd started in and just held myself inside her, my arms around her, my
mouth at the sweat covered nape of her neck, gently kissing her.

   She was sobbing again.  I was gentle with her, but I didn't pull my cock
out of her quivering pussy.  I kissed her neck and gently stroked her
trembling flesh.

   "S-s-s-s-sooooo long," she moaned.  "It's b-b-b-been s-s-s-s-so long. 
I-I-I-I-I-n-n-n-n-never dreamed..."

   "Shhhh," I said.  "Just relax and enjoy."

   She relaxed.  Boy howdy.  In a few moments, she was asleep.  That was a
new one for me.  No woman, in my experience, had ever fallen asleep while
my cock was inside her.  For a moment my pride was wounded, but then I
grinned.  I thought about that old juvenile ditty about "Molly Brown."

   There once was a woman named Molly Brown

   Who said no man could screw her down.

   Then along came Piss Pot Pete,

   With 49 pounds of hangin' meat.

   The next morning they found her in bed,

   Her cunt caved in,

   Her ass all red.

   And that's the Story of Molly Brown

   Who said no man could screw her down

   Well, I didn't have "49 pounds" of meat, but what I did have I knew how
to use.  I slid it out of Amy's humid depths and lay there next to her
listening to her breathing.  After while, I fell asleep myself with a smile
on my face and that old ditty on my lips.

   I awoke sometime later from a wonderful dream.  In this dream my cock
was engulfed in something warm, wet, and purposeful.  It felt wonderful. 
It was Amy.  She was laying across my belly and she was giving me one of
the most delightful blow jobs I'd ever experienced.  Her soft hands were
riding a layer of her saliva up and down my cock in concert with her
hungry, sucking, mouth.

   She must have felt me stir.  She pulled her face out of my crotch and
half turned to me, her face partially veiled in a brown cascade of hair.

   "I want you to cum in my mouth, David.  I want you to empty your balls
in my throat."

   Mere words lack the capability to express the way it sounded when she
whispered those two sentences to me.  It was a guttural.  It was
animalistic.  It was feral.  It hinted at a hunger that could only be sated
by my doing what she asked and promising dire consequences if I did not.

   She had obviously been working on me for some time judging by the pool
of her saliva that had run down my crotch and onto the duvet cover (once
again I had a fleeting thought that I was really in for it when
housekeeping got a hold of this!).  So I was pretty far along, in terms of
arousal, already.  Her words and the way she uttered them were like
gasoline on a fire.  She attacked my cock with her mouth and hands. 
Strange mewling sounds came from her throat.  It was like she was dying of
thirst and had finally found a well but was having trouble getting the
water to come out.

   I closed my eyes, arched my back, gripped the back of her head to hold
her in place, and let go.  Well, "let go" is a rather mild term for what
happened.  She DID ask for it.  Ever see a Peter North cum shot?  Hah!  As
prodigious as his ball snot blasts are, they are nothing compared to what I
produce when I'm really aroused.  Any protein deficiencies Amy might have
were about to be taken care of for the next week.

   "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

   She did her best, I'll give her that.  She was on the down stroke when
the first blast hit and it went straight down her throat and into her
belly. Fortunately she was not taking a breath at the time.  Semen is one
thing you do NOT want to aspirate.  The head of my cock was right at the
deepest point in her mouth and I held her there while my cock fired a
torrent of thick salty seminal fluid into her alimentary canal.

   I let go of her head and she came up for air, gasping, as my launcher
fired another volley that caught her square in the face.  She was still
stroking me with her hands and I was still cumming.  She plunged her mouth
back onto my jerking spitting trouser snake and tried to swallow the
avalanche of semen coming her way.  She couldn't do it.  Cum leaked out
around her lips and came out of her nostrils in spite of her heroic
efforts.

   Awareness began to return as I came down from my orgasmic high and I
noticed that Amy had a hand between her legs and she was frigging her pussy
to froth while the last dregs of my seminal explosion were dripping onto
her tongue.  She was cumming.  Giving me a blow job had really turned her
on.  That caused my cock to give a jerk and spit one last measure of my
manly essence.  It continued to jerk but there was nothing left to
ejaculate.  I was spent.

   Now, I was the rag doll.  I barely noticed as Amy finished her orgasm
and turned her body around to put her face next to mine.  She smelled like
the booths of those adult arcades I'd frequented as a young man - she
smelled like cock juice.  I smiled and pulled her face to mine for a kiss.
She resisted for just a moment - after all, there was still semen in her
mouth - but then she gave in and we swapped my bodily fluids freely for a
few minutes.  I licked her face clean of my excrescence.  Then I kissed her
again.

   "We need a shower, Ms.  Lucella."

   She laughed.  "Yes, I believe you are right, Mr.  Donaldson."

   "Shall we?"

   "We'd be fools not to."

   And, so we did.  We showered.  I fucked her in the shower.  We cleaned
up again.  We got out.  We had some drinks.  I fucked her on the sofa. 
Finally, we were both sore and as the saying goes, fucked out.  She
dressed, in spite of my offer to have her sleep over, and having kissed me
thoroughly at the door, refused my offer to walk her back to her place, and
left.

   I went to bed, sleeping on the wet spot.  I had some great dreams.  And
when I got up about mid-morning the next day, there was a note under my
door.

   "Dear David,

   Last night was wonderful.  You are an incredible lover and I have never
felt so much pleasure in my life.  But, on the walk back to my suite, I did
some thinking.  I don't know what happened to me yesterday or what, if any,
part you played in it.  But everything is different for me now.  I have to
find out what happened or at least try.  I am leaving the resort this
morning and flying home on the next available flight.  I want to see a
doctor I know at the <insert name of world famous medical center here> and
try to determine if this is real.

   Please don't think that my disappearance is in any way about me running
away from you.  Far from it.  I would love to spend more time in your
company.  You are more than just a wonderful lover.  We had a delightful
evening aside from that and I would be happy to repeat it another time.

   But for now, dear David, I must have some answers.

   Affectionately Yours,

   Amy"

   "Well," I said aloud to the empty room, "that was unexpected."

   And then I made coffee, a vague smile on my face, and thought to myself,
"No good deed goes unpunished." 

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