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 This story is fiction with graphic descriptions of sex between consenting
adults.  If this type of content offends you, close this page now!  If you
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   Any similarities to persons living or dead are purely coincidental.
   London Days 10 - Paz, the Final Chapter
   By Romany
   (M/F, cons, rom, F/F, M/F/F,)
   My time left here in London was ebbing away.  The year's sabbatical was
drawing rapidly to a close and I had been pressured by my mother during a
recent phone call, to make it home to the US by Thanksgiving.  That was
just over two months away and I didn't want to bug out early, despite the
spring weather being inclement at best; which might persuade me that London
in the Fall was no place to be.  I did consider the prospect of going home
in November but I still felt there was unfinished business.  My original
plan was to be home for Christmas.  Even though most of my reserves of
money were nearly gone, and I was living very much hand to mouth, I still
had the hots for my Spanish friend Paz.  I had coveted her ever since her
boyfriend Ray went back to New Zealand in April.  But due to a noble belief
I needed to give her time to get over Ray, and then my own procession of
partners before and after eight weeks on vacation in Europe, I had let the
chance slip by without so much as asking her for a date.  I ruefully
reflected how she must see me only as a friend and would not regard me as a
potential partner.  I sat in the living room one wet Saturday in early
September and reflected on one week that had passed that was a watershed in
my sexual odyssey here in London.  I could never have hoped for such a
concentration of sexual experiences with four totally different females in
a seven day period.  Dutch Sonja, her cousin Irene from South Africa; my
bosses wife Libby, and the delicious amoral young Penelope who was the
daughter of one of the drivers at the company I worked.  My flatmates Mark
and Evelyn were heading into the West End for the afternoon and had invited
me to go with them.  I knew they would be shopping and then most likely
have an early dinner at a restaurant.  I was not as flush with money as
them.  They had proper jobs and were wealthy in comparison to me.  I used
the excuse that I had arranged to meet Paz and her sisters at their local
pub; which Mark and Evelyn accepted without pressuring me further to join
them.  As I reflected on the lie I had offered, I decided I was well
overdue to go and see Paz, who actually worked at the pub.  Paz had gotten
me a few weeks work there when I had first returned from Europe but I
didn't like the hours and after topping up my dwindling finances, I went
back to work for Clive's removal company.  And despite working with Paz,
she seemed somewhat diffident towards me that I put down to her carrying a
torch for her ex-boyfriend Ray.  I had hooked up with a woman called
Marisse but that had folded after a few weeks.  Maybe Paz believed I was
serious with Marisse and didn't know we had split.  It happened about the
time I left the pub.
   I knew she worked most Saturday nights so I drove from Willesden to West
Hampstead and parked my VW van as close to The Old Black Lion as I could,
given it was a residential area and most parking was for residents.  I was
several blocks away from the pub so I sprinted through the wet evening to
the dry shelter of the pub.  Walking in I was pleased to see trade had not
yet picked up and the place was only about half full.  I scanned the bar
and couldn't see Paz and my spirits fell as it now occurred to me that
maybe she had one of her occasional Saturday's off.  I looked at the
patrons but did not recognize anyone.  I wondered if the virtual united
nations of friends I had met here had all drifted back to their country of
origin, leaving the place to the locals now that summer was over.  There
was a large apartment building in the main street that was full of all
different nationalities; Paz herself lived there and I had also had a fling
with a young Dutch guy who lived there, when I first arrived in London. 
The place was a dump but the flats were cheap and affordable to the
occupants who had shit jobs like me; and they could at least live within
their meager income.  It had a high turnover as young people came and went
regularly.  I recall Paz telling me once that this was her second time she
had lived there after trying to live in a more up-market flat in Hampstead.
But the cost of the better place was too high once her younger sister
Yolanda and an Italian friend Mia, who had both shared with her, had moved
to Scotland for a couple of months and she couldn't afford it so went back
to the cheaper place.  Yolanda had since gone home which was a good thing
as I never really hit it off with her.  There was also their older sister
Meira and her English husband Jason; but they lived in Hemel Hempstead and
as Paz preferred the London scene she did not consider staying with them.
   I walked to the bar and waited to be served and to my delight, Paz came
through from the back, carrying a tray of glasses.  She was tall and slim
with waist length jet black hair pulled back in a loose pony tail.  She was
wearing her trademark denim shirt and tight denim jeans.  The sleeves of
the shirt were rolled back on her forearms and I deduced it was because she
had been washing glasses out the back.  I stared at her lovely face and she
looked up in irritation at first; thinking I was a `punter' giving her a
lecherous look.  Once she realized it was me her face brightened and a
broad smile lit it up further as she gushed in her lilting Spanish-English.
   "Steve...how are you...where have you been?"
   "Around," I answered with a grin.  "Trying to get my shit together since
getting back from Europe."
   "But you've been back weeks, and hardly stopped here at all," she
chided, reminding me of the visits I made shortly after returning from my
vacation.
   "How is Marisse?" she asked cautiously, reminding me this was where I
had met with the woman in question that I had had a brief relationship with
on my return from Europe.
   "I don't know actually," I began.  "It never actually amounted to much
and I haven't seen her for weeks," I concluded, recalling the acrimony
between Marisse and me when we had parted; after our brief affair and a hot
m�nage that involved friends of hers from Germany.
   "So you are all alone?" she asked; her brown eyes locking my gaze as if
watching to see I answered truthfully.
   "Sadly yes...although not necessarily sad I'm not with Marisse.  I think
she was looking for a `daddy' for her baby," I answered.
   She nodded her understanding.  She had known Marisse through a common
circle of aquaintences and knew of her little girl and Marisse's need to
find someone to give them stability and financial support.
   "How about yourself?" I asked tentatively, hoping she was not seeing
anyone.  "Have you heard from Ray?" I added.
   "I heard from him nearly one month ago," she said somewhat diffidently.
"It's so hard to keep alive feelings just by letter; when you know you
probably will not see them ever again," she added almost in irritation.
   "I thought he was going to return," I said recalling what Ray had said
about returning.
   Ray had returned home as his father was diagnosed with cancer and he
feared the worst; rushing back to New Zealand before his father's condition
deteriorated.
   "No...his father's cancer is in remission which is great news.  But it
means it has stalled Ray off leaving while his father is still fighting the
cancer.  Although I know in my heart he will not return," she said sadly,
then paused and looked at me with her big brown eyes, "so I must move on,"
she said holding my gaze.
   My heart leapt as I was sure this was a signal that she was indeed free
of her feelings for Ray and she was interested in finding someone else to
be with.  Did I misread her look, or could it be me she was thinking about
as someone to move on with?  I had one hand around my pint glass of lager
on the bar, very close to her hands clasped before her.  I took my hand and
moved it tentatively to hers and lay my fingers over her hands.  She smiled
and overlapped my hand with one of hers.
   "Yes you must," I said quietly and we stared at each other for a few
seconds before a voice disturbed us and she blinked and turned to where the
voice came from.
   It was her gaffer; the boss, Barry.
   "Get some more splits up from the cellar Paz luv would you please," he
grinned looking at us.  "You can carry on courting when you've done that,"
he concluded almost sarcastically; though he tried to minimize his
authoritarian instruction with a forced chuckle.
   "This place is a bleedin' lonely hearts club sometimes," he laughed at
us.
   Paz closed her eyes in an expression of frustration at her boss'
boorishness and she squeezed my hand and leaned closer and whispered "I'll
have to get back to work.  Can you wait for me at closing time?"
   "Count on it Paz," I said quietly.  "You can count on me being here for
you."
   Paz vanished behind the bar to go down to the cellar.
   "You lookin' fer work?" Barry asked.
   "No thanks Barry...same reasons as before...pub work cramps my social
life," I said with a wink.
   "Seems like you're able to keep up," he said looking after the departing
Paz and winked and turned to serve a customer.
   I grinned at Barry and turned away from the bar and went to find an
empty chair to sit and drink in peace; knowing it would get busier as the
night wore on and Paz would have no chance to talk to anyone let alone me.
I found a seat next to an old guy who was sitting with dominoes in front of
him.  I usually avoided old guys like this as they were normally alone and
looking for company to bore to death with stories about the war or some
such like.  I always got trapped as soon as they realized I was American;
hearing how we were either arrogant assholes or saviors from the dreaded
Hitler.  But I felt buoyed by my brief exchange with Paz so I accepted the
invitation to play dominoes from Stan, who had introduced himself as a long
time admirer of the US.  We settled in and I actually enjoyed his company.
Of course he thrashed me at dominoes and all the while prattled on about
the war, and The Blitz and the Americans, `Gawd bless `em' and he recalled
a certain Marty Feldman from Wisconsin who lured his girlfriend away from
him.
   "Not the English Marty Feldman mind; not the comedian," Stan explained.
"But this American called Marty Feldman.  He had me bleedin girlfriend's
knickers down quick as look at her...and they got married," he added in
almost disbelief at something he obviously knew to be true for over thirty
years or more.
   The pub was now standing room only and when I went to the loo my seat
was taken by an older woman who had been standing in a group near the table
Stan and I were using.  She knew Stan, and when I returned, having bought
Stan a pint of bitter and a lager for myself, I assured her she could keep
my seat.  She cooed "aww in't thaht niiice," in a broad North London accent
and held her glass up as a toast of thanks.  I loved the English accents
and dialects and I was feeling really mellow with this evening. 
Occasionally seeking out Paz behind the bar; catching a glimpse of her
behind the row of patrons as she toiled to keep up with the demand for
service.  Once I saw she was scanning the throng and knew she was looking
for me so I moved slightly so she could see me better and she gave me a
warm smile and raised her hand above the bar top and made a little wave. 
Our eyes locked briefly and the message we transmitted across the room was
clear.  My heart missed a beat and I felt almost giddy with happiness.
   ***
   Paz and my relationship blossomed out of all proportion to the time we
spent on courtship.  I waited until closing time and she asked her gaffer
Barry if I could stay until she finished cleaning up.  He laughingly agreed
as long as I helped, and I spent half an hour as an extra potman; cleaning
tables after an old guy called Albert, who was the potman, gathered up the
dirty glasses.  Barry bid us and the two other bar staff good night and we
stepped out into the chilly September night.  It was still raining lightly
and Paz and I hurried towards her flat about half a mile along the high
street.  The plan was to get a late supper of fish and chips and eat them
at Paz's place; although we were actually walking further away from where I
parked the VW van and I had already dismissed the idea of us getting into
it and going to my place.  I figured that it might be too obvious I was
hankering to bed her, and at least this way it was expedient we minimize
the time we were in the rain.  We stopped at the chippie and I ordered a
filet of Roc as well as two portions of chips.  The English sure know how
to make the humble potato into the most delicious hot curved chips. 
Nothing like the bland spindly fries we have in America.  As we hurried to
her flat she hugged the warm chip parcel to her and the aroma of the food
smelled deliriously scrumptious in the wet night.  We sat cross-legged on a
double mattress on the floor which was her bed; the parcel open between us
and we ate the meal with our fingers.  She had produced two cans of
Heineken and she had a glass of home made Sangria that she poured from an
arty looking bottle.  She said she mixed it herself and had liked the
bottle, so it became her bottle for `home brew' as she put it.  We ate
ravenously as we were hungry.  She had a little of the fish and together we
cleaned up the delicious fragments of chips that were fried crispy; locked
in the creases of the paper wrapping.
   Paz crumpled the paper tight into a ball and disappeared to the small
kitchen area and put it in a small garbage pail under the sink.  As she
returned I sat transfixed as she kind of floated back to me; her beautiful
face and raven mane now released from the ponytail, lying down across her
breasts and over her shoulders down her back.  The tight jeans showed the
shape of her plump pubis in a vee framed by the crease of her upper thighs;
her secrets hiding behind the denim.  Her ankle boots were previously
discarded and she was in her sox.  She had turned the gas radiator on by
feeding two fifty pence pieces into it when we arrived and the smallish
room had warmed up quickly.  As she approached I just stared with a goofy
smile on my face and she caught my look and grinned back mawkishly.  No
words need be said.  She simply knelt on the mattress in front of me and I
wrapped my arms around her waist and hugged her to me.  She run her fingers
down through my hair and then took my face lightly in her fingertips and
leaned down and kissed me in a sloppy sensuous kiss; her mouth open and
hungry and our tongues jousted as they fought back and forth in each others
mouth.  I eventually rolled her sideways so she would fall lying along the
mattress which had one end against the wall; where two pillows formed the
head of the bed.  She braced herself for the sideways tumble with a hand
and allowed herself to be guided to lie down and we equalized our bodies so
we were lying on our sides in an embrace in the middle of her bed.
   We made out for a few minutes, sucking hungrily at each others mouths;
our lips salty from the fish and chips.  Our hands roaming each others
sides and flanks and soon I moved my hand in towards her shirt front.  She
was wearing a denim shirt with domes instead of buttons and I popped two
domes in the middle just under her breasts and slid my fingers over her
smooth midriff.  She moaned her acceptance at this escalation of intent so
I slipped my fingers in the underside of her bra and slid the cups up off
her firm breasts.  I roved my hands over her firm globes and noted the
nipples hard and taught.  Paz was now gasping into my mouth and as she
enjoyed the homage my hands paid her breasts she stopped kissing
altogether; though still keeping her face close to mine.  I realized she
was trying to reach up to make the bra more comfortable as it was cutting
across the top of her breast.  Eventually she tired of struggling and with
a gasp of exasperation, rolled away onto her back and frantically ripped
the remaining domes on the shirt open and quickly sat up and discarded it
completely.  She slid the bra straps off her shoulders, pulling her arms
through in turn and then twisted the bra around and unfastened it in front
of her.  This done she threw it away with the shirt, and pausing to brush
her hair back over her shoulders, she lay back looking at me expectantly. I
was mesmerized by the beauty of her firm full breasts and the dark aureole
with her nipples hard and erect.  I stifled a sob of joy, and as if spell
bound, I leaned over her and took the nearest breast and nipple into my
mouth with a groan of lust.  My hand going to the other breast, and this
way, I worked her breast for several minutes; her hands clasping my head
and moaning her approval as I worked the nubbin with my lips and lightly
nipped it with my teeth while tweaking the other in my fingers.  She was
gasping and occasionally holding her breath in excitement.  I was drowning
in this bliss and almost in a trance when I realized she was pulling at my
shoulder and frantically uttering an instruction under her breath.
   "Touch me...Stevie...touch me...oh God please touch me..." she gasped
and she pushed her groin up into the leg I had slipped between hers, as I
lay with my face over her breasts.
   Her accent in speaking English was deliciously sexy at the best of times
but her need to be touched galvanized me to obey and I dropped the hand
from her breast to her crotch and firmly grasped the lump of her pubis and
labia jammed tightly by the denims.  I roved my hand up and down her crotch
and noticed it felt incredibly hot, even fully clothed.  This obviously
wasn't enough and soon she pushed me roughly away from mouthing her breast
muttering "sorry...wait...wait" as she lifted her hips to undo her belt
buckle and jeans button and soon the zipper making a noisy rapid descent as
she undid it to frantically tear at the tight blue material hugging her
hips.  I helped her strip the jeans down past her groin and she half sat
and twisted her legs off the side of the mattress and ripped the jeans over
her feet; a flash of white of her panties rolled up with the heavier outer
garment.  This accomplished she swung her legs back onto the mattress, and
looking at me with an invitation in her eyes, she opened her legs wide and
I sat mesmerized at the sight of her thatch of black pubic hair and the
pink lips framed by the tanned pigment of her skin.  I literally gulped
loudly and looked back at her as if seeking further instruction.  The eyes
narrowed slightly as if to say `what are you waiting for' and I dropped a
hand into her crotch and she moaned in appreciation as I lay my head on her
stomach and began to finger and stroke her sex.  It was feelings of
excitement and bliss as I watched my hand fingering her slit which was wet
and dewy and I zeroed in on her clitoral area and she gasped loudly and her
hand came to the back of mine and she pulled it in hard against her sex. 
She was hissing between her teeth and suddenly lifted her hips up off the
bed in the throes of an intense orgasm as she mashed my hand to her cunt.
She gasped and grunted and groaned and her hips lifted quickly in a series
of short jerks against my hand jammed by hers against her clitoral area.  I
was excited, elated and disappointed all at the same time.  Excited by her
fervor to get off; elated it was with me, but disappointed she got there so
soon.
   She eased down and her gasps were interspersed with small, almost
hysterical laughs at the pleasure she was feeling, and she eased the
pressure on my hand and allowed her butt to fall back to the bed; as the
rush passed through her.  I could smell the strong odor of her sex;
released by her arousal and her natural juices.  I looked at her face and
her hair was strewn across it; some strands caught between her lips as she
lay with her eyes half closed and mouth slightly open.  Seeing the
vermillion shade of her lips against the black hair over her face and chin
brought me back to the sight of her pink sex lips against the tanned
pigment of her labia and black pubic hair.  Instead of leaning to kiss the
lips on her face, I eased back on my haunches and brought my face to her
sex; taking my hand from her crotch as my tongue extended and I licked the
full length of her slit.  She trembled and a small cry caught in her throat
and she sobbed something in Spanish as I zeroed in on her with my mouth.  I
pushed my fingers into her wet heat, as I started to feast on her sex as if
I was starving.  Her hands came to my head and I moved further down her
legs with my body so I was now virtually crouching facing up into her
crotch; her legs having been opened even wider now I had freed up more bed
space, and she drew her knees up and opened herself up to my eating her
out. This way, with me still fully clothed and a raging hard-on cramped in
my shorts and jeans, I ravaged her sex and clitoris with my mouth and
tongue and burrowed and reamed her vaginal tunnel with one hand; while my
free hand groped and pinched her breasts and nipples in turn.  Roving over
both breasts flattened more now she was lying on her back.  Paz had one
hand around my head and the other forearm draped across her forehead as if
she were relaxing.
   She was far from relaxed and her hips were continually moving against
the pressure of my mouth and fingers and after what seemed like a
considerable time I sensed she was building for a second orgasm.  She was
making small crying and mewling noises and working her hips to find the
rhythm between us.  She took me by surprise as the resonance of our
movements hit a spot where she started to wail; in a low tone at first
building in volume and pitch.  She let it go and cried out in series of
sobs and wails and both hands came to my head once more as she jammed my
face as hard into her crotch as she could manage, given the contractions
going through her.  Eventually she went rigid and gasped as if starving for
air and then letting out one final squeal, her butt crashed back to the
mattress and she sighed a long soft `o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-h-h-h-h-h' and her
hands dropped from my head and draped over her inner thighs of her spread
legs.  I tentatively lifted my head and saw her eyes shut and her mouth
slightly open, yet the discernible shape to her lips of a satisfied smile.
I bent back and licked her sex lightly and she trembled and gave a small
gasp.  Slowly so as not to wake her from her afterglow, I eased my fingers
from her sex and quickly unbuttoned my shirt.  I undressed as carefully as
possible and cursed I had to actually leave the mattress to remove my
jeans. I was soon as naked as she was; both of us still wearing sox.  I
looked at mine and thought how stupid it looked so removed them as well.  I
was in love with her right here and now; yet despite the raging erection
jutting out angrily, I was determined to show her respect and allow her to
enjoy the post orgasm rest and I eased down to move close into her.  I
wrapped an arm over her as if protecting her.  She moved her head slightly
and her eyes fluttered open briefly and she smiled warmly at me and a hand
came over my arm to acknowledge she wanted me to comfort her this way.  She
straightened her legs and closed them and this way I held her as she dozed
while I stayed awake like a sentry guarding his queen.
   I must have dozed off to because the next thing I was aware of was me
lying on my side and a hand on my hip pushing me to roll onto my back.  As
I tried to focus on where I was and what was happening, I felt a hand go to
my cock and then feel my balls gently.  As I lay back opening my eyes, I
saw this mane of black hair hanging from Paz's head as she kneeled and
leaned over my midriff and gently manipulated my cock so it was rapidly
hardening once more.  She held it in a dagger grip and deliberately jacked
it and I sighed, and a small chuckle of gratitude escaped my lips and she
looked up at me; a hand dragging the mass of hair away from her face and
flicking it across one shoulder and she smiled sexily at me.  Her breasts
full and absolutely perfectly shaped with the nipples like punctuation
marks on the large dark aureole.  Holding my gaze, she lowered her head and
I watched my cock disappear into her warm wet mouth.  She worked me
deliberately and yet tenderly; occasionally looking up with a questioning
look.  I wasn't near cumming and didn't want to; not just yet at least. 
And as I lay watching her I moved a hand to the side of her head which was
exposed as the hair was draped around the other shoulder.  It had revealed
her ear and a small stud in the lobe.  I lightly fingered her ear and
occasionally the nape of her neck on that side.  I dropped the hand and
tweaked a nipple then moved quickly to the other and tweaked there.  I
carried out this slow deliberate traverse of her ear, neck and boobs and
soon her deliberate actions on my cock missed an occasional beat and a
flustered look came to her face.  She sometimes lifted her mouth from my
cock and closed her eyes with her mouth open.  I was turning her on with
the subtle pressure of my fingers.  Finally she made a deep throaty moaning
sound and shifting back she crouched and lifted one leg over mine and
squatted over me.  With a look of almost indecent lust Paz lowered herself
down to meet my cock held in her hand and she let out a long drawn out sigh
as the blunt mushroom head pushed her labia apart as she impaled her self
right down onto me; our pubic hair matting as she ground herself against me
to sheath my cock as far inside her as it would go.  With her eyes half
closed and her mouth slightly open she placed her hands on my chest and
slowly began to writhe and grind against me.  I soon realized this was to
get the fit comfortable and once she was satisfied, she opened her eyes;
and smiling at me lifted her head and shoulders upright and sighed as she
began to rise and fall on my cock.  I had a flash of sexual D�j� vu as this
was how my boss' wife Libby had fucked me some weeks back.  My head spun
when I thought of Paz doing this with her ex-boyfriend Ray; and perhaps
however many other lovers she had had.  I gritted my teeth in determination
to drive the negative thoughts from mind and lifted my hips to meet the
descending flesh engulfing me.  `I love you Paz...I love you Paz' my mind
screamed but my voice remained silent.  `Fuck my fucking worthless brains
out Paz' my mind screamed and I lifted my hips, as if to punctuate the
thought.
   Paz fucked us both.  As I lay watching her it was uncanny how her
movements mimicked the sex with Libby.  I guess this was natural for women
in control this way.  She moved her hips up and down but often she would
seem to twist her groin sideways a little and then lean forward and move
her hips back and forth allowing my cock to nearly slip clear of the grip
of her cunt; only to ease back and allow it to penetrate her fully and she
would sigh in appreciation of the fullness inside of her.  Then she would
sit more upright and slip up and down once more.  I studied her face and it
seemed she was far away from knowing who she was riding; as if it was
immaterial as it was the cock that mattered.  It saddened me yet it was so
carnal and erotic I was not about to complain.  I was as hard as hell and
as she rode me I soon picked up her pattern and tempo; and now she had her
head half to one side, her jaw hunched against her shoulder as she began to
struggle with her breathing.  I saw she was incredibly aroused by her
actions.  She was building for another orgasm and as her movement became
jerkier her hair fell across her shoulder and over her breasts which
reminded me the perfect globes were being ignored.  I reached for them and
began to massage the firm orbs and bend the nipples back with my thumbs
rhythmically; allowing the nubbins to flick clear, only to be rounded up
and bent once more.  She moaned in appreciation at the attention and her
head turned to me and a dreamy smile came to her lips.  Girl-on-top is not
my favorite way to cum but the eroticism of watching this dark haired
Spanish beauty getting herself towards another orgasm allowed me to remain
sufficiently far off cumming that I could concentrate on studying her rise
to her pleasure.  She quickened the rise and fall and leaned more towards
me; her hair brushing my stomach and chest and soon she was leaning right
down over my torso and I was having difficulty reaching down to her
nipples. Then her breathing changed to small gasps and groans and
unintelligible words in Spanish and I felt her pubis mash into mine.  Paz
fucked herself to a loud noisy orgasm and slapped her body hard against me
as she mouthed her release close to my ear now that she was almost lying
along my body.  She heaved a final `o-o-o-o-o-o-h-h-h-h' as she had done
earlier and her breasts crushed by her weight on my chest, flattened out
and I had to remove my hands, they were so cramped between us.
   I wrapped my arms around her back and still sheathed inside of her, I
rolled us both carefully over so she was on her back and I was now lying
over her between her legs.  She briefly opened her eyes and I could see
them wide in question between the mop of hair covering her face from the
rollover; I humped deliberately against her as a signal and the dreamy
smiled returned to her face and her lids fluttered closed.
   "Yes Stevie," she breathed almost inaudibly.  "Go for it..."
   I went for it.  Shoving her knees up and apart so she opened up to me
and I started to fuck her hard like a crazy man; slamming into her and
shoving as hard as I could as quickly as I could.  To find the rhythm that
would send the aching message to my brain that my balls wanted to explode;
and I wanted to ram this beautiful woman as far into this mattress as I
could.  I lost it.  As I grew more frantic and the first pangs of impending
ejaculation sent their first signals, I shoved her legs back further to a
point that she groaned a complaint as I opened her too wide and she
struggled to maneuver her thighs more up against my upper arms now that my
arms were locked rigid; my hands beside her shoulders.  She voluntarily
lifted her legs onto my shoulders for comfort.  With her doubled up this
way I simply fucked her roughly and came and came in cries of blissful
anguish as I let go all of the desire and lust I had held these last eight
months for this beautiful creature I had coveted from a distance.  In short
I blew my nut so completely, and the release was so intense, I wept and
wrapped my arms around her neck as I pumped the last of my seed into her
wet warmth; and she dropped her legs away from my shoulders and pulled me
over her and hugged me to her.  She whispered something into my ear and
repeated it twice.  I smiled though had no idea what she said, yet I sensed
it was a term of endearment she was using, as I passed into sexual
oblivion. I could die now.  This was what going to heaven would be like.
   ***
   It would be a bore to describe every sexual coupling that Paz and I had.
We made love nearly every day except when she had her period.  Even then
she would blow me and I soon found I could get her off by working her
breasts and nipples and light twiddling of her clitoris; well clear of the
thin cord that hung from the tampon filling her vaginal cavity.  I was at
her place nearly every night except on two occasions on Paz's nights off
when she stayed with me after Mark and Evelyn invited us to go out with
them.  She hit it off with my flatmates and I felt so contented in a real
relationship for the first time in the nine months I had been here in
London.  No more bouts of meaningless sex without romantic inclination; and
the focus on the excitement from sexual conquest and release.  I decided I
was in love though I was careful not to use the term `I love you'.  I knew
she felt the same.  As we settled into a happy domesticity we would lay and
talk for hours after having made love, and then we would make love again.
We changed positions regularly and alternated between me getting her off
first and her getting me off first; and juggled that with concentrating on
giving each other simultaneous orgasm.  It was one night after a bout of
more intimate love-making that we had one of our intimate discussions.  She
lay in the crook of my arm and her hand resting on mine as we lay on our
backs soaking up the afterglow of the mutual orgasm.
   "Have you ever been with a man?" Paz asked quietly.
   The question came out of the blue and it took a few seconds for me to
register what she had said.  I shifted uneasily at the question and there
was a pause while my mind formulated the most neutral answer that would
neither confirm nor deny.  Opening up to Paz about my sex life was not high
on my agenda as I did not want her to do the same.  I was quietly jealous
of the time she had had with her ex-boyfriend Ray, and the thought of her
confessing to coupling with nameless other men I might not be aware of, did
not thrill me.  So I had put off ever mentioning my partners, even though
she knew of one, in Marisse.  My delay in answering undid me and I am sure
she felt my uneasiness at the question.
   "You have haven't you?" she said sounding as if she had just realized an
obvious fact.
   "I...ah...that depends..." I stammered but she pressed on.
   "It was that Dutch boy...Pietr...who lived upstairs earlier this year,"
she said, her voice sounding more animated as she was clearly remembering
Pietr and my coming and going from this old building shortly after my
arrival.
   "I remember Ray said he saw you leave some mornings when you were both
going to work.  We wondered who you were seeing, not thinking it was Pietr;
but Ray did suggest Pietr as we had seen you together at the pub," she said
articulating her recall into words.  "I said I didn't think you were that
way."
   I slapped a hand to my forehead in embarrassment and sighed in
exasperation.  The thought that Ray had been thinking of me as queer was
annoying, yet at that point he was exactly right.
   "Don't be shy," Paz said and propped herself up to look at me even
though it was too dark to really see each other.  "Tell me...we should be
honest about our lovers," she said trying to sound understanding.
   I crumbled.
   "Yes...yes I had a man to man thing with Pietr...briefly.  He was
homosexual by inclination.  I had had some brief passing experience...in my
younger days, and well...a few Heinekens and I allowed him to seduce me," I
said and realized I felt better having uttered this fact out loud to
someone.
   "Did you enjoy it?" she asked and I could tell she was now quite excited
by my revelation.
   "Well yes...in a biological sort of way, most men usually do," I said
with a laugh of relief at confessing.  "It's rare when men don't get some
buzz out of ejaculation irrespective whose mouth or..." And I tapered off
not being able to say `ass' to complete the gist of my sentence.
   "You used him as a girl," she said with a hint of disappointment in her
voice.  "He was like your girl for sex."
   "Yes...yes I suppose that's accurate," I agreed.
   "You never took him in your mouth...or allowed him to penetrate you?"
she said a little more disappointed.
   "Well...on a couple of occasions I...handled him...jacked him so he had
an orgasm...and once...well once I did take him in my mouth for a short
while," I said feeling a lot less comfortable than when I had first
confessed.
   It was clear that Paz did not approve of my usury of Pietr as if he was
a woman.  It was clear she saw some degree of sexual democracy as the norm,
and I did not permit Pietr that right to use me as I had used him.  To
complete the political analogy, I was a dictator; albeit a benevolent one
as Pietr did relish getting his ass plowed.  Paz lay back and there was a
short period of silence before she spoke again.
   "Who were the others?" she asked quietly and I felt her turn her head on
my arm to look at me in the dark.
   "Well there was a boy when I was a senior in high school; the son of
friends of my father and mother.  He was obviously going to be a full queer
even though he was only sixteen, and like with Pietr, it just sort of
happened," I explained truthfully.
   I was feeling better again, so I continued.
   "Then there was a guy; a one night stand at a college senior breakup
party," I began.  "He was camping it up all night and late in the evening I
got to learn he had given a few of the guys blow jobs...all the guys who
were supposedly jocks and straights.  So being a little boozed and stoned,
I went after him to get some to.  It went further than the rest.  Turns out
I did like the idea of screwing a guy," I said almost grimly recalling how
a quick blowjob had led me to screw the guys ass; much to his delight.
   "This all sounds like you are the dominant one," she began.  "Usually in
same sex relationships, one or other is the dominant one," she said as if
reciting a thesis on the topic.
   "I think in man to man sex parlance we have a top...the one who
penetrates...and a bottom...the one who gets penetrated," I said.  "But
often men do switch roles.
   "That is as it should be to," she said calmly with a hint of reproach at
my obvious past preference for topping.
   We fell silent and she sensed I was a little vulnerable because of her
oblique chastisement.
   "Did you really enjoy it?" she asked and squeezed my arm.
   "Well it was much like I said earlier.  Most men find some gratification
in sex no matter how bad it might seem after arousal and ejaculation," I
said somewhat neutrally.  "And just as most of women are, some men are more
than happy to be the bottom...to give...to the guy fucking them, so it's
really quite similar to heterosexual sex," I said feeling more confident
with my behavior that clearly Paz had not approved of.
   "So that's three men you have had anal sex with?" she said recapping my
confession.
   "Well not exactly..." I started, remembering Marisse's German friend
Erik who I had ass-fucked in a threesome with his wife Heike.
   "Go on," she said with excitement returning to her voice.
   I told her about the threesome I had with Erik and Heike after seeing
Heike reduce Marisse to a near sexual coma with an intense bout of oral sex
and masturbation.  I said how I had noted Erik getting aroused at his wife
and Marisse, and after Heike finished Marisse off I had taken Heike in
front of Erik; and then they asked if I would do Erik as well.  I explained
that Erik was predominantly impotent in conjugal relations with Heike such
that they had become a part of a wife swapping group back in Germany. 
There was a lot of bisexual activity as well which saw men screwing men and
women screwing women; as well as the straight swaps.  This way they fed off
others for their mutual sexual satisfaction.  That night with the four of
us, and after Marisse was put to bed they were really in their comfort zone
with me forming the missing part of their group.
   "And you had sex with his wife and he watched it," she added a little
incredulously.
   "He loved it.  He actually got very hard and I coaxed him to take her as
a husband should.  It was very erotic and they were very grateful," I
explained, as if I was a benevolent sex enabler.
   I did not elaborate that I sodomized Heike while she had mounted her
normally impotent husband vaginally.  That we double teamed her and it
wasn't the first time she had had two men screwing her, though it was
debatable if one was ever Erik.
   "And you had sex with him as well?" she asked reconfirming what I had
said.
   "Yes...they actually asked me to as a favor to him," I said.
   "Phew...that is so erotic," she said and as if to illustrate she was
excited by the story, she reached for me and began lightly fondling my
flaccid cock.
   "And that was all with Marisse in bed?" she asked.
   "She was gone; out of it," I chuckled.  "The result of too much booze,
too much dope and Heike's expert tongue and fingers."
   "I would never have believed it of Marisse," Paz said.  "She always
seemed a little uptight to me."
   I was hardening under her gentle fingers; but in a way I did not want
any subsequent sex to happen to quickly.  I had always known Paz was a
sexual woman and I felt there was some story she could tell; even if it
might be about another man or men.  I realized she was confident in her
sexuality to have had some interesting experiences.
   "What about you?" I asked quietly as we lay silent, my cock now fully
hard in her hand.
   "What about me?" she said with a chuckle.
   "Have you ever been with a woman?" I elaborated on my question.
   "Of course," she said simply.  "Maybe as many times you have been with a
man," she continued.  "Does that shock you?"
   "Not at all," I answered truthfully.  "I have always thought you were
very sexual and I somehow just thought you might have been with a woman. 
So tell me who and how," I challenged, turning to look in her direction in
the gloomy room.
   "Much the same as you, she began.  "I went to an all girl school and
when I was fourteen, maybe fifteen, I had a very dear friend to stay one
weekend at our house.  She was a border at school and did not get home
often.  It developed quite quickly.  Just girls talking about boys...and
some cuddling in pretense we were with a boy...and...well soon we were
touching and it went a lot further than we had intended...and we had no
embarrassment," she said almost wistfully recalling the experience she was
relating.
   "Did you have sex?" I asked bluntly.
   "If you mean oral sex...that's what usually defines sex between
woman...of course...but not at first," she replied.  At first it was just
touching and as she stayed both Friday and Saturday night, by the time
Saturday bedtime came around we were both very excited and it just
developed naturally," she said.
   "You had lesbian sex?" I said.
   She laughed at my comment.
   "Why you call it lesbian sex Stevie?" she chuckled.  "Lesbian sex is
lesbians doing much of what men do with women.  We had mutual oral sex,"
she said pedantically.  "She did to me what you have done to me and I did
the same to her," she said candidly.  "It's not just lesbian sex we are
talking about.  The fact that lesbians do not have a penis means oral sex
and vaginal penetration with fingers is the norm.  But men do that with
women as foreplay usually before intercourse as well" she said explaining
her point.
   "Lesbians do use fake penises," I said.
   "Of course they do but you have to grasp the concept that lesbianism is
a life choice...sometimes it is not a choice as it just happens that the
girl or woman prefers other women without knowing why.  But the majority of
sex acts are universal.  It's the emotional state that counts in defining
lesbians; or queer men for that matter...not the sex act itself," she
concluded.
   "I get your point.  And men can suck each other, just as women can suck
a man." I said pointing out the male parallel to her argument.
   "Exactly," she agreed.  "Some women enjoy other women's vaginas and
breasts as some men enjoy another man's penis."
   "And I guess the act of anal sex could be just as pertinent between a
man with a woman as between two men," I said.
   "Exactly," she answered in agreement.
   "So if the sexual acts are overwhelming universal despite sexual
orientation, it also means I'm not queer for fucking Pietr, or any other
man I've been with," I said with a chuckle.
   "Ignorant pig," she laughed and squeezed my cock as a light
chastisement. "It's not about whether or not you are queer by fucking Pietr
and your other male lovers," she laughed.  "It's about the honesty to
pursue one's sexual freedom and to explore without prejudice," she
concluded.
   Paz was a very intelligent young woman.  She had a degree in sociology
from Valencia University and I knew she was very much a closet academic
behind the beer pumps at the Old Black Lion.  Watching and studying human
behavior behind the fa�ade of the pretty foreigner the gaffer had hired to
tempt the punters to stay longer.
   "So how did your affair with your school friend end?" I asked keen to
draw out Paz's other woman on woman experiences.
   "Isabel...her name was Isabel...oh...she was a year ahead of me at
school so when she left, we never saw each other again even though we wrote
to each other for over a year," she answered a little sadly.
   "You said you were fourteen, so she would be fifteen, and
what...graduate at eighteen?" I asked doing the math.  "You were together
for two or three years!"
   "No we finished school at seventeen, but yes we were lovers I suppose
for all that time," she said.  "It was quite easy to carry on with her
coming to stay.  No one ever suspected; not even at school where there were
always rumors of lesbian type relationships and behavior."
   "You don't consider you were a lesbian at this point?" I asked.
   "I think we thought we were...to a degree," she answered candidly.  "And
we thought it was fantastic as it was safe.  Neither of us could get
pregnant so we could enjoy each other without inhibitions.  But we both
moved into normal heterosexual relationships soon after and I knew for my
part that I was not a lesbian as I enjoyed my heterosexual relationships
more," Paz said.  "I'm not even sure if I would call myself bisexual, as I
much prefer men in terms of an emotional and social relationship.  Like
us," she concluded and squeezed my arm.
   "Do you think you could still go with a woman?" I asked.
   "Probably...it doesn't intimidate me but it would not be a conscious
thing I think.  It would just happen unexpectedly I'm sure," she answered.
   "When did you have your first boyfriend?" I asked tentatively.
   "When I was sixteen...we became lovers when I was seventeen...he was my
first love and I knew from him I was not a lesbian despite my time with
Isabel," she said and a sadness came to her voice as she was clearly
reminiscing.
   I did not want to question her on the guy who took her virginity.  It
seemed oddly inappropriate as I sensed from her immediate silence that her
relationship with him had some unrequited component to it; or unhappiness
of some sort, judging by the tone of her voice.
   "And Isabel was your only experience with women?" I asked to change the
topic back to female sex.
   "No...one of three," she said candidly.  "There was Carlotta who I met
at university.  She was a closet lesbian...older than me by three years,
and after we became lovers she quickly changed and became dominant and
over-protective.  I got out of that quite fast," she said with a chuckle.
   "And the third?" I asked.
   "It was a woman I met working for a few weeks in Algarve in Portugal. 
She was also older than me.  We became friends...she had never been
involved with women before and when we became lovers I was the teacher.  We
left Portugal at the end of the summer and backpacked around Spain and the
South of France and Monaco," she said.
   It had quickly occurred to me that as Paz was not quite twenty three,
and given her age and chronological order of her affairs, this last one was
possibly not that long ago.
   "What happened there?" I asked interested in how it ended.
   "Oh she went back to her home and I went back to mine at the end of
summer, and we have lost touch," she said quickly.
   We lay in silence once more now that we had confessed our homosexual
affairs.  After a few minutes she moved into me and her hand began to
fondle me again even though she had never let me go during her story
telling.
   "Tell me more about that time with Marisse's German friends," she said
almost breathlessly in my ear, and nuzzled me.  "What did each of you do?"
   I turned my head in astonishment.  She had been excited by the m�nage I
had related.
   "Have you ever been in a m�nage...with more than one woman or man; or
both?" I asked.
   "No...tell me about yours again," she said almost huskily.
   As I recapped the basic details, I went into to more graphic description
of Erik and Heike's responses and actions and admitted Erik and I double
teamed Heike.  By the time I had related the details as I recalled them Paz
had became more urgent in arousing me to become hard and she was breathing
heavily against my neck.
   As I started to falter for detail to retell she muttered "come into me
Stevie...deep inside of me...I need you inside of me..." and I rolled
quickly over her as she opened her legs and guided me into her.
   We had already made love once that night and she was greasy from my
earlier ejaculation so I went in easily.  I went at her vigorously and she
wrapped her legs around my hips and shoved back at my in-strokes.  The
coupling lasted no more than three or four minutes before she began to wail
and cum against me.  It triggered my sense to the point that I rutted
faster to find the release and soon I was pouring myself into my sweet
Spanish beauty a second time that night.  Her hair matted across her face
as she gasped and came frantically as I emptied myself deep inside of her.
   ***
   Our romance carried on happily.  We spent a night with her sister Meira
and husband Jason in Hemel Hempstead.  I drove us down mid-week having told
my boss I wouldn't be in next day.  Paz had the day off as well.  The
evening went well but when I offered to help Meira with the washing up, she
quizzed me on my intentions with Paz.  Meira was older by three years than
Paz and had been married for two, living here in England.
   "You are returning to America soon," Meira began.
   "Yes...home for Christmas," I answered cautiously sensing what she was
about to start on.
   "And what about Paz?" she asked stopping washing a pot and looking at
me.
   "I guess...I guess we will stay in touch.  I'd like her to come to the
US," I answered but I felt I wasn't convincing.
   Paz and I had never spoken of it but we knew the specter of my eventual
departure to the US was lurking in the background as we had drifted into
mid-October.
   "You don't sound so sure," Meira said accurately.
   "Well...we haven't discussed it much," I answered lamely.
   Meira's expression was one of serious reproach for a brief moment and
then she softened.
   "I would hate for Paz to get really hurt," she began.  "She has already
been hurt by the New Zealander...Ray...who went back home.  Just like you
will...and on the top of everything else..." she concluded.
   "What everything else?" I asked curious at Meira's words.
   She stopped and looked at the floor and I swear she muttered a cuss
under her breath that she had said something she shouldn't have.  She took
a deep breath and looked at me.
   "Paz was engaged...to a boy she had known since high school.  Her first
real love and the courted until they went to university when they broke up
then came back together some years after and fell in love again.  She came
to England for six months working holiday that he agreed with...and
well...he met someone else and now he is engaged to her," she said with a
look of sadness.  "So you see Stephen, she has had nothing but hurt these
last twenty months."
   I got the picture.  There wasn't much I could say to Meira.  Right now
it was what it was.  Too late for Paz and I to undo what we had done so
far. On the drive back to London Paz and I did not talk much.  Each lost in
our thoughts.  Mine were on much of what Meira had broached with me about
my going home; and the emotional hurt Paz had suffered since last year.  My
mother was still pressuring me about quitting the UK and being home for
Thanksgiving and I came to dread the phone calls expected every two weeks.
She had rallied my father up in support and the emotional blackmail machine
was hard at work.  In one call she also mentioned she had some mail for me
and said it was from `an Emma in Montreal'.  Emma was the Canadian I had a
short but deep affair with in Spain when on vacation, and I got impatient
with mom as to why she hadn't forwarded the letters to me when they had
arrived.  There was a curt pedantic explanation that she was sure
exonerated her from any blame of withholding the letters and we rang off
that call on bad terms.
   "Fuck you mom.  I am not coming home before December 22...as I always
intended," I had muttered angrily as I crashed the phone down after she had
hung up on me in a fit of pique.
   On arriving back at London I dropped Paz at her flat and went home as we
had agreed and we would see each other on the Friday.  She had two nights
work, and even though she worked Friday nights, it was usual for me to join
her by closing time and stay the night with her.  When I got home there was
a package for me from the US.  Inside were the two letters obviously from
Emma that mom and I had argued about.  Emma and I had agreed when we parted
that she would use my US address as neither of us knew where we would
settle on return from our summer vacation.  I said my mom would forward all
mail promptly as she had been doing to date.  There was also a curt note
from mom which told me I would see what she was trying to explain to me,
and one last sentence `we expect to see you at the table on Thanksgiving'
and signed `Mom & dad.'.  I studied the envelopes from Emma and it became
clear what my mother had tried to explain.  One letter had a postmark of
August 15 which was just after Emma had returned to Montreal.  Only it had
bounced around the postal system of the US and Canada as she had got the
street address wrong.  The second was only just over a week since posting
in Canada and had coincidentally arrived close to the earlier first one
that got lost.  She had got the address correct on the second letter.  As I
read the newest first, Emma was quite formal and a little accusatory as to
why I had not responded to the first letter.  I felt bad that she thought I
did not want to continue the correspondence of the first letter.  I read
that first one and the tone was joyous and loving and I hung my head and
cursed at the mishap that led her to believe I had deliberately not
replied. The surge of emotion I felt for her came back and I quickly wrote
her a very intense love letter.  It was the wrong time to do it having just
left Paz; and looking back I confused my actual feelings for Paz with my
memories of time spent with Emma in Spain.  And the tone was probably way
over the top.  But I was trying to right a wrong impression, so after a
bath and change of clothes, having smothered the envelope with enough
stamps to ensure faithful delivery anywhere in the world, I walked to
Willesden High Road and dropped the letter into a mail box.
   I met with Paz on Friday evening and we had our usual fish and chip
supper and made love and fell asleep in each others arms.  I had to work
Saturday morning.  On a big job moving the household of a wealthy
Argentinean businessman; from Swiss Cottage to St.  Johns Wood and it would
take all day.  As I dressed Paz rolled sleepily and looked at me.
   "I meant to tell you I have a friend arriving to stay the night
tonight," she began.
   I raised my eyebrows in question.
   "It's Kate Cohen...I may have mentioned her...she's English and has an
Israeli husband.  She's been visiting her family...and she's staying the
night and tomorrow night before catching her flight to Tel Aviv on Monday
morning," she said sleepily.  "She's arriving from Stoke-on-Tent this
afternoon.  She called me Thursday...I didn't even know she was back in
England and I would love to see her again."
   I looked around the room and back at Paz as if to emphasize only the one
bed; the double mattress on the floor that she was lying on.
   "Oh silly...we can sleep together," she laughed catching my meaning. 
"It's the girl thing again," she laughed.  "Men couldn't do it without
seeing it as a threat to their masculinity," she teased.
   I grinned at her teasing me.
   "Sounds juicy," I laughed.  "Two women in bed together" and she shrieked
"sexist pig" and threw a pillow at in my direction.
   "OK," I said and stooped and kissed her.  "I'll be stuffed after today's
job anyway.  I'll drop by Sunday instead."
   "What are you working Monday?  We could take her to the airport in your
van," she suggested.
   "OK...yeah I think I can do that.  Monday's are always slow.  I seldom
have a job on Monday's but I'll sort it with Dave the dispatcher," I agreed
and waving goodbye, I left to go home to change and go to work.
   I drove to Willesden and then after a quick wash and change into work
clothes I headed of to work.  I was as stuffed as I thought I would be when
I finally collapsed into bed on Saturday night.  The day had been long and
the family had a large amount of furniture necessitating three and a half
box van loads.  There were only three of us on the move, instead of the
usual four and the family was not disposed towards helping much.  The guy
had a beautiful wife and two cute kids under five.  The saving grace for us
was their beautiful au pair girl who was from Spain.  I guess the language
made it logical for the Argentinean family to have a Spanish speaking aide.
The husband and wife flitted back and forth between the two properties but
Maria the au pair remained at the old house, keeping an eye on the kids as
we moved the furniture out to the truck.  She saw to it we were fed at
noon, had a snack and drink break mid-afternoon, and disappeared and
returned with a large parcel of fish and chips and a dozen cans of lager at
about six.  Eventually she and the kids left us with and went to the new
address.  We appreciated her bright easy banter and all of us wanted to
`give her one' as the English crudely put it.  To top it off we got tipped
forty pounds each; the guy explaining he had allowed thirty pounds each for
four men so we got an extra tenner each seeing we were shorthanded.  He was
very complimentary towards us.  All in all it was a good day.
   I woke bright and early on Sunday morning and noted how good I felt
after a sound sleep following a hard day's graft.  Mark and Evelyn were
still in bed when I headed out the gate at about eight thirty and drove to
West Hampstead to see Paz and meet her friend Kate.  It intrigued me where
Kate came into it as Paz had never mentioned her despite saying she
probably had.  I would have remembered an English girl married to an
Israeli and living in Israel.  That's not that common.  I walked up to
Paz's door and knocked and waited.  There was no answer and I grinned that
they were still asleep so I knocked a bit louder and then looked around
realizing there were two other flats within close range of Paz's and I was
worried I might wake more than Paz.  Still no answer so I moved along the
hall to approximately opposite the living room where Paz's bed was set up.
These flats were basically a single room with a small kitchen area and an
entrance hall formed by a false wall inside to give the effect of not
walking straight into the living room.
   "Paz," I called with my face to the wall.  "Paz...open up.  It's me
Steve," I called, trying not to shout yet wanting to be loud enough to be
heard.
   Eventually I heard a click from her door and I hurried back towards it
and Paz opened it and let me in.  She had a strange look on her face and
she was dressed only in a jerkin type shirt open at the neck so that I
could see an expanse of her breasts, and nipples pushing the shirt.  She
looked beautiful and I felt a surge of longing for her and reached to
embrace her.  I was a little taken aback when she stiffened and didn't melt
into my arms as I expected.
   "Stevie...what are you doing her so early," she said almost in
admonishment.
   I stood and looked in surprise at her subdued greeting and noted she
looked a little flustered.  She looked over her shoulder down the short
hallway and then back at me.  She hadn't reached her arms around me as
expected and stood with her fingers fiddling her shirt front, apparently
disconcerted about something.  I knew something was wrong.
   "What's wrong Paz," I said with concern.
   She looked away and stood almost helpless and then looked up and stared
at me.  Her eyes were watering with tears.
   "Hey...hey, hey...don't cry.  Tell me what's wrong," I said and wrapped
my arms around her shoulders.
   She allowed me to embrace her to comfort her but when I bent to nuzzle
her neck and hair as I normally did she pulled back and brought her hands
up between us pushing gently at my chest My girl was trying to push me
away.
   "Paz...what is it?" I asked now concerned with her behavior.
   She looked around almost helplessly and then looked back as a big tear
fell from one eye onto her cheek.
   "You weren't supposed to be here so soon," she whispered.  "Kate's
here...you knew she was staying..." and she tapered off her eyes seeking
understanding from me, and she wiped her cheek and composed herself.
   "What difference does that make?" I said blithely trying to find out
what was bothering her.  "What, it's not because she's not dressed properly
yet is it?" I said quickly.  "I can step out while she dresses."
   "Yes...well no...not just that," she said sheepishly and she held my
gaze; a wet patch on one cheek from the tear she had smeared with her
fingers.
   I took her by surprise as I lent to kiss the spot; as if being gallant
and kissing away her tears.  She could not recoil fast enough to stop me
detecting a familiar odor.  Slowly the wheels churned in my brain as I
sought to place the smell, and I opened my eyes wide as the situation I had
obviously disturbed hit me.  I could smell feminine odor on Paz.  On her
face; probably her lips.  My God she had been having sex with this Kate and
I had interrupted them!  She clearly expected me to arrive much later in
the morning; when she and Kate could be dressed and carry on a normal
appearance of good friends and I would suspect nothing.  She saw my face
and knew I had guessed what she had been doing and she looked strained.  To
me this was a shock.  First Paz had lied...or if she hadn't lied directly,
she had misled or misrepresented Kate to me.  Secondly, irrespective of
whether Kate was male or female, Paz was deliberately cheating on me.  I
pulled back and looked past Paz down the empty hall.
   I stood dumbfounded and as my brain whirled in confusion I heard myself
say "you lied to me Paz.  You're cheating on me" and I stumbled back
towards the door that I had only just closed.
   "No...no...stop...Stevie...stop...don't go...let me explain...it just
happened.  We didn't plan it," she started quickly and tears began to fall.
"It's not really what you're thinking...well sort of but not as serious,"
she stammered and had grabbed an arm to stop me opening the door to leave.
"If you love me at least let me explain," she said quickly.
   I stopped dead in my tracks.  It was the first time she had ever used
the word `love' and in this context it had a pleasant impact, despite the
thoughts racing in my brain.  I stopped; heeding her plea, and she took my
upper arms and stared up at me.
   "Remember when we confessed toe each other about men you had been with
and women I had been with?" she started.  "I told you of my third encounter
with a girl I met in Algarve, Portugal some summers back...that was Kate.
We became friends and I told you we were lovers and it was she that I
backpacked around parts of Spain, the South of France and Monaco with," she
said as her eyes sought understanding from mine.
   I nodded dully at her.
   "When we parted, I met up with my old high school love and she met David
Cohen her husband, when she worked on a kibbutz in Israel.  They married
and apart from one or two letters each year we hadn't seen each other
since. I was meant to go to their wedding but couldn't.  Anyway...she got
my address from my parents...and well...that's how she found me," she said
finishing her explanation of who Kate was.
   I stared at her and she instinctively knew my next question so went on
   "And it just happened...this morning...we slept all night together and
nothing happened.  But...I don't know what or why, but when we woke, next
thing we were just kissing...and all of our history came out and...well you
guessed it right," she said and let my arms go and wiped the tears from her
eyes and cheeks.
   I stared at her trying to assimilate the degree of what happened.  Did I
have the right to be angry and to feel cheated given the history and
supposed accidental manner in which they had started to make out?  Would I
accept her explanation if Kate was some guy.  I could see her logic even if
I could not fully grasp what led them to rekindle their sex from years
earlier if she had not intended it.  Unless of course Kate was far more
important to her than she and I were; together for such a short time in
comparison.  It was sobering to think I might be insignificant compared to
her old flame Kate.
   "She's right," came a female voice from along the hall.
   We looked at the direction of the voice and I saw a blond haired woman
peering from around the wall between the hall and the main room.  I deduced
the way she poked her head around she must be naked or not adequately
dressed to stand in the hallway for me to view.  She was clearly older than
Paz.  I would have put her at maybe twenty seven or twenty eight.  It turns
out she was thirty and I wondered on learning that, about her picking up
Paz in Portugal back then.  It almost smacked of seduction of a minor by an
adult even though Paz was over eighteen.
   "It just happened...our past coming back because of our proximity," Kate
continued.  "You mustn't blame Paz.  It was my fault really," she said
looking at Paz.
   She was fidgeting or jiggling out of sight and then she stepped into the
hallway and I deduced she had been pulling on a pair of panties as she was
now dressed in a plain white blouse and I could just make out the faint
shape of her knickers behind the top.  She was slim and very attractive
with thick wavy hair tumbling over her shoulders.  Like Paz's, her nipples
were evident behind the blouse she had buttoned mostly apart from a small
gap about her navel where she had missed a button.  I stood feeling
somewhat the villain having appeared accusatory despite interrupting my
girlfriend obviously going down on her friend.  I looked at Paz and the
tears were still welled up in her eyes despite the support from her would
be lover.  I gently wiped my fingers over her cheeks and she sobbed
realizing it was an act of forgiveness.  I crushed her to me and gazed at
the ceiling briefly as I felt my own eyes were slightly teary and then I
hugged her to me and whispered "I'm sorry for being such a jealous prick"
and she hugged me tight and whispered "I'm sorry to."
   I forgot what she had been doing when I arrived and I bent and kissed
her and she initially went to recoil and then surrendered and let me kiss
her; returning the kiss as a sign of acceptance of our apologies to each
other.  It was then I realized her reticence to kiss me earlier was because
she had Kate's odor and juices on her lips.  I felt a surge of excitement
when this thought struck me and I deliberately mashed my mouth around hers;
and when I broke the kiss she looked at me a little embarrassed.
   "How do I taste?" Kate called along the hall; her arms folded watching,
with a wry smile on her face.
   "Sex is Ok but you can't beat the real thing," I jibed with a nervous
grin.
   "I agree," Kate called back.  "There's no substitute for the real
thing."
   Paz looked from Kate to me and back at Kate again, and I saw Kate raised
here eyebrows in question.  Paz eased out of my arms and took my hand to
lead me to the main room.  Kate grinned seductively at us and turned and
walked around the end of the dividing wall, and I caught a glimpse of her
reaching under her blouse bottom just as she disappeared out of view.
   "Come and meet Kate," Paz whispered and smiled knowingly at me, as she
led me along the hall.
   ***
   When Paz led me into the living room, Kate had already shucked her
blouse and panties and was squatting with her hands lightly balancing
herself on the balls of her feet.  Her breasts were hanging inside her arms
and the nipples pointing jauntily out in front; both very hard and erect. I
caught a glimpse of her crotch and my eyes widened when I realized she was
nearly shaved bald around her sex.  She smirked at me in a teasing fashion
and then rolled herself back and held her hands up to Paz as her sex gaped
bare and pink against her pale skin.  There was a pronounced bikini tan
line which showed she spent a lot of time in the sun back on her kibbutz in
Israel.
   "Come here sweetie," she crooned to Paz.  "You haven't finished what you
started."
   Kate had no embarrassment being opened before my gaze like this and her
eyes challenged me to either join or leave because I clearly wasn't going
to stop them again.  Paz was standing in front of me and turned her face
back to look at me as if seeking consent and I smiled and reached for her
jerkin and started to pull it over her head and arms.  Unlike Kate she had
not worn panties and so she was nude once the garment was shed.
   "Go for it baby," I whispered in her ear and we kissed briefly before
she skipped towards the mattress, and going to her knees at the edge, she
crawled over the top of Kate who welcomed her with open arms.
   Kate gave me a quick glance and nodded, and with a knowing smile on her
lips, she turned away and she and Paz kissed.  I stood and looked at the
thickness of Paz's labia from behind; framed by her inner thighs as she
knelt over Kate and soon she flattened out and her upper thigh went into
Kate's crotch and I saw Kate's leg come up onto Paz's crotch and the two
began to devour each other.  I had a mental flashback of the two French
girls Mirelle and Laure I had had a threesome with in a camping ground in
Rome.  This was not the first sight of two women having sex that I had seen
this visit to the UK but it was more erotic given the feelings I held for
Paz; unlike the objectivity that I felt towards Mirelle and Laure, who I
had just met prior to having the m�nage with them.  And I felt the French
girl's inclusion of me was only for sex to embellish their traveler's tales
in years to come.  I circled away from the side of the bed and moved around
the end so I was between the other side of the mattress and the wall with
the hall.  Given the way the girls were laying I had moved out of their
peripheral vision and I did this so as not to distract them.  Confident
they could not see me, I slowly stripped and I had great difficulty getting
my shorts off I was so hard; aroused by the scene of tanned bodies with
raven and blond hair kissing; and by now stroking between each other legs.
They were gasping and groaning.  I saw Kate lift her head a couple of times
and smiled to myself realizing she was overtly putting on an exhibition for
me and checking to see what my expression would be.  `I bet you think you
have me beat with her' I thought and grinned when I saw Kate's look of
puzzlement when she couldn't see me where she expected.  Paz's room had no
furniture apart from a low occasional table she used for candles and
ashtrays.  She had a number of large cushions for sitting on and the table
was usually used for meals much like in a traditional Turkish restaurant. I
arranged a couple of cushions and sat back naked; holding my cock loosely
in hand and watched the show.  Christ it had barely gone nine thirty on
Sunday morning.  A lot of folk were at church already!
   Paz showed to me she was very much the aggressive dominant half and soon
Kate stopped scanning the wrong side of the room for me as Paz brought to
her excitement and pleasure that made my presence superfluous.  I was
amazed and somewhat proud as Paz sexually roughed Kate up in a firm loving
way, that made the older woman lose it.  And as Paz finished attacking
Kate's breasts with her mouth she trailed her lips down Kate's stomach and
over her pubis; while her hand was shoved deep into Kate's sex.  When her
mouth finally caught up to her embedded hand, Kate had already arched her
hips up in anticipation of the mouth and tongue that would return to where
I had so rudely interrupted them that morning.  Paz drove Kate wild and I
smiled in pride as my Spanish beauty plundered the English Rose with her
mouth and hands; her fingers twirling Kate's nipples.  Kate was now lying
with her back in a permanent arch off the mattress, and an arm draped over
her forehead in the classic damsel in distress pose as she held Paz's head
with the other; occasionally moving it to Paz's hand on her breasts then
back to her head again.  Paz was conducting her Spanish inquisition on Kate
with her mouth, tongue and hands.  When Kate was about to let go she moved
both hands to Paz's head and lifted her shoulders to look down her body at
the shiny black head of fine hair draped over her stomach, and watch Paz
eat her out as Kate began to moan and wail as the long awaited orgasm took
her over.  She couldn't last holding her shoulders and head off the bed and
soon her strength waned as she went through the pleasure zone and her back
arched once more as she came hard on Paz's mouth and hand.
   As Kate started to come down from the orgasm, Paz lifted her head and
then quickly looked around, looking for me.  She saw me to her right and
saw my cock in hand and ginned and rolled her eyebrows as if to say `dirty
boy' and then returned to plant small kisses on Kate's nearly bald vulva.
Kate opened her arms and welcomed Paz who crawled up over her friend's body
and the two lay together as Kate allowed the sweetness of afterglow to
consume her.  I guess in a generous threesome, I would have been on the bed
as well and may well be about to take my release and give Paz some as well;
by fucking her while Kate lay recuperating.  Much as the French girls and I
had done as a mixture of arms and legs in the tent in Rome.  But I was the
spare part here and the voyeuristic role was quite sufficient just now.  I
knew that sexual democracy would see Kate eventually reciprocate for Paz.
It would be then that I would make my move.  I could fuck Paz any time no
matter how erotic this might be to lure me into her; lying over Kate.  I
came to observe that day that Kate had great recuperative powers.  She
proved to be a near insatiable lover and I didn't have to wait long before
she roused herself from her reverie and started to kiss Paz.  I was
disappointed she never looked for me again but the feeling quickly
evaporated as I watched Kate start to devour Paz, just as Paz had done to
her.  I quickly recognized the moves Paz had made in Kate's methods, and
she started with Paz's tanned breasts; although I could see a look of
hunger in Kate's face that was not evident in Paz's.  Kate was reveling in
the conquest as much a she had in being the receiver earlier; whereas Paz
had concentrated on giving Kate pleasure and showed little expression other
than application to the task at hand.  I wondered if Kate had a strong
sense of true lesbianism and she enjoyed the part of being the top more
than the bottom.  And that Paz had taught Kate as Paz had said, was
obvious. I came to learn watching this second exhibition that there was a
lot more quiet and calm about two women.  That despite the obvious moans of
pleasure, it was quiet; yet clearly each was highly aroused and turned on.
It was only when Kate came that the noise level had risen, to die quickly
again as her orgasm subsided.  Is this what woman to woman love is about?
Calm and gentle with both women knowing instinctively what the other
wanted. I recalled my grappling over the men I had fucked and it was very
vocal in comparison to this.  Despite the obvious fervor in both Paz and
Kate's attack on each other, there was a strong sense of calm devotion to
what was happening.
   I recognized Paz's building orgasm; having seen it from the same angle
Kate was at, now she had her mouth in my Spanish beauty's sex; and her hand
likewise shoved into Paz's vagina as Paz had done to Kate.  I had also seen
Paz build her release from sitting astride me or under me; whether on her
back or kneeling as I plowed her doggy style.  I smiled smugly knowing Kate
would be hard pressed to experience those same sights from my perspective;
unless of course she had a strapon in her baggage.  I noted almost for the
first time a large brown suitcase open against the wall at the end of the
bed.  I had been so enthralled with Paz on Kate I had missed it as I
circled the bed earlier.  It was lying with the lid closed though the
catches were both open.  It was Kate's baggage.  Paz came just as she had
done countless times with me and I felt assured Kate had given her no more
pleasure than I was capable of by the use of mouth and hand.  As Paz went
through her orgasm Kate lifted her head and finally looked around and
stared at me sitting back on the cushions with my back against the wall;
legs askance and my erection jutting hard and proud from my pubic bush.  I
had one hand loosely draped around it as if it needed support.  A weird
dreamy look came over Kate's face and she drew the back of one hand across
her lips as if wiping Paz's juices; the fingers of her other hand still
inserted in Paz's cunt.  Kate beckoned to me urgently, her eyes focused on
my cock so I rose and moved across the floor in a semi squatting waddle and
came to the edge of the mattress.  It was her closest hand to me that was
free and she reached and took me in hand and I noted her eyes fluttered
almost involuntarily as she felt the hardness as if for the first time. 
She drew me towards her and kneeling over Paz with her fingers inside Paz's
sex, Kate lowered her head over my cock.
   I stayed squatting like this for a few minutes as Kate expertly worked
my cock with her mouth and hand and occasionally she lifted her head and
looked at me with hunger as she wiped the wet cock against her face; and
then went down on me again.  I wondered what her Israeli husband would
think if he knew what she was doing right now.  My legs were starting to
ache, being held in the squatting position, so I decided it was time for me
to get some as well.  I moved towards Kate and she looked up lifting her
head off my cock; surprised at my sudden move.  I maneuvered behind her,
just kneeling on the end of the mattress, and she closed her eyes in
acknowledgement of what was to come and muttered "oh fuck yes, please." I
positioned myself behind her as she had dropped her forehead to Paz's thigh
and I heard her gasped and groan as I slowly impaled her; holding her by
her hips as I moved to equalize my cock in her deep wet tunnel.  I started
to fuck her and immediately noted Kate was more vocal, with the noise of my
slapping hips and balls hitting her rump.  I am sure this did not mean she
was enjoying my cock anymore than Paz's mouth.  I remain convinced that
woman on woman is for some reason inherently more subtle and quieter, yet
very pleasurable for them at the same time.  Perhaps women had to
articulate to encourage men and their fragile egos.  It was a straight
forward doggie fuck but my enjoyment was heightened by seeing my Spanish
lover lying on her back in her sexual afterglow; watching me through half
closed eyes as I fucked her English friend lying over her legs, from the
rear.  Paz was studying my face and stroking Kate's hair.  It would have
been a good time for Paz to move and go to work on Kate as well; perhaps
her breasts, or simply kiss her or finger her clitoris above my sliding
cock forcing Kate's labia into an "o" shape by its girth.  But just as I
had remained out of their sexual pleasure, so to did Paz and I fucked Kate
steadily; picking up the rhythm as I felt the urge rise to shoot.  I
reached under Kate's stomach and trailed my hand through the sparse
triangle of her clipped pubes and found her clitoris.  I frigged her as I
humped and her grunts of enjoyment built once more to a low wail as she
began cumming on my fingers.  At this point Paz turned and cuddled Kate's
upper body now lolling over Paz's thigh; and as Paz held her friend going
through a second intense orgasm, I came hard deep inside of Kate and gasped
and grunted as I wrung the efforts of a hard day's work on Saturday from my
body.  I was aware it was a large amount of semen I released and even as I
was still slowly pumping down from orgasm inside of her, the heavy fluid
was mixing with her juices and was leaking back down her labia and the side
of my cock to my ball sac.  I stayed kneeling as I eased down off a joyous
release and looked at her sex spread around my cock; the sight of the dark
pucker of her anus slightly dilated by the stretching of her butt crack by
her legs being spread to take my legs inside of hers.
   I pulled from her and she groaned and rolled half sideways.  Paz
retreating to let Kate lie half on her side and half on her back; her hair
covering her face as she lay drained having had two deep orgasms in less
than an hour.  Paz smiled warmly at me and leaned and kissed me, and then
carefully parting Kate's hair away from her face, she bent and kissed the
prone English woman.  I stayed kneeling watching them and Paz lifted her
face and then almost as a sign of thanks, she stooped and took me in her
mouth and cleaned me off as she had often done after our sex.  She caught a
glimpse of Kate's sex and saw the mess of semen dribbling from it as well
as a few slick strands on the side of Kate's plump labia.  To my amazement,
Paz bent and cleaned her friend's sex, giving it a kiss and a little pat as
she then turned to me and kissed me.  Making sure I got the taste of my
semen on her lips; and as she cuddled me she whispered "thank you" and I
felt her tears on my shoulder as she wept in gratitude and from the
emotional hour just passed.
   ***
   That first hour that September Sunday morning was just the starters. 
The main course played out into early afternoon when Paz finally cried
`enough' as Kate and I both worked her over in succession with our mouths.
The second stanza late morning was much a repeat of the first with me
letting the girls do each other only this time they reversed the order and
then Paz mounted me and fucked us both to orgasm while Kate, still
struggling from the orgasm Paz had just given her, knelt and kissed Paz and
fondled her breasts; as Paz rose and fell while I steadied her on my cock.
Kate circled beside Paz astride me and I felt her grip my cock with a hand
each time Paz rose up; and when Paz and I finally came, she guided the near
comatose Paz from my cock and eagerly cleaned us out with her mouth just as
Paz had done for us after I had fucked Kate earlier.
   "I've not see one with a foreskin for years," Kate had chuckled crudely,
and I recalled her husband was Israeli; and being Jewish, he would be
circumcised.
   Kate took some patience fondling me when I was half hard and she tweaked
and made funny faces with my loose foreskin and the two girls giggled at
her handiwork.  When Paz said she had to pee, Kate pulled me over her and
when Paz returned and went to remove her jerkin and panties, she stopped
and grinned mawkishly as she saw Kate had now straddled me and was fucking
me energetically.  I know my limits and the girls had me nearly at overload
and I knew this next release would take some time despite me being rock
hard.  After a few minutes of Paz kneeling beside Kate and kissing her
breasts and mouth, I heard Kate mutter under her breath and the two swapped
places like clockwork; as if they had done this before.  I lay wondering
just what they had experienced in the past.  Was it just girl on girl stuff
or much more?  Kate became impatient with Paz slowing down while riding me,
and with a grin and a push, she made Paz get off me and impaled herself on
me once more.
   "You can get this any time honey," she giggled and set about bringing me
off.
   Just as she had done with Paz, I noted Kate's enjoyment of being the
aggressor and she set her jaw and worked me steadily.  She was trying to
get me off first.  Paz clicked onto what she was doing and with an impish
grin, dropped her mouth to one of Kate's breasts and her fingers to Kate's
clitoris.
   "Oh fuck not fair," I heard Kate gasp as Paz and I got her, and she
wailed and came hard as she collapsed forward on my chest; her breasts
heaving in release.
   I took her upper body and rolled and she was soon under me, and I
quickly took her legs and shoved them up over my shoulders.
   "Oh Christ yes fuck me Steve...oh God," she cried and I was surprised to
see her face dissolve into tears of emotion at what was happening to her.
   With Paz kneeling in attendance, running her hands over my back and
shoulders, I rutted myself to what was to be my final heavy orgasm before
we eventually ceased hostilities in a sexual truce; to find food and drink.
Paz bent and held Kate's face and kissed away the tears as we all finally
collapsed in a heap.
   The day ended for me about seven thirty that evening.  We had each
traipsed to the bathrooms shared by the flats on this floor, to clean up as
much as we could; and then we had gone out arm in arm and bought vegetables
and some chicken and rice for Paz to make a sort of paella.  There were a
few cans of beer and Paz's homemade Sangria and we ate and drank ourselves
back to some semblance of fitness.  During this relaxing meal, Kate opened
up and admitted she had come home to ponder her future with her husband
David.  That they had been having marital problems for some months and had
agreed time apart was what they needed.
   "I don't think I have changed my attitude," she said a little sadly.  "I
don't have any remorse about us all together today," she said looking from
Paz to me and back again.  "I needed it badly," she chuckled almost in
embarrassment.
   Paz leaned in and hugged Kate.
   "It was beautiful," Paz said.  "Wasn't it Stevie?"
   "It sure was," I said with a smile.
   "I told Kate about you and the German couple...Marisse's friends," Paz
said blushing in mild shame at breaching my confidence.  "I hope you don't
mind..."
   I laughed "no, not at all."
   "It sounded so deliciously carnal Kate laughed.  "It made me horny just
hearing about it.  I'm so glad we had our own little soiree," she grinned.
   "Have you ever been...you know...with more than one at a time?" I asked
of Kate.
   "No...never...I found this all so delicious and erotic, it makes me
tingle thinking about it...us...with you two," she confessed.
   "I hope it hasn't tainted the feelings you have and the decision you
need to make about your marriage," I said bringing the reasons for her
being back in the UK to the fore once more.
   "No...no...my issues are deeper than sex or adultery," she said bluntly.
"But I will work it out," she concluded being more upbeat.
   "And you must do what you think is best in the long run...for you and
David both," Paz said to Kate.
   I almost cringed at the neutral banal comment Paz had made.  I had
decided to say nothing.  Kate would have to work out her issues with her
husband just as any other couple who have marital problems must do.
   It had occurred to me the girls expected the sex to continue much as it
had been but I could see these two may not see each other again for some
time.  And I had interrupted what had began as an intimate, albeit
unplanned, session between Paz and Kate.  They had missed that togetherness
by me turning up.  At this point Kate muttered she could do with a good
soak in a tub and I stood and gathered up the plates to take them out to
the sink.
   "I think I'll head off," I said quietly and both girls sat and looked
stunned at my comment.
   Before Paz could speak I continued: "I think it's better for you two to
say your farewells without me."
   They looked at each other quickly and then back at me.  They got my
reason for leaving and there would be no argument judging by the look they
gave each other.  Paz rose from the mattress and came to me and we
embraced.
   "Thank you my love," she whispered and her eyes filled with tears.  "You
and I will have to say our farewells soon enough as well," she added.  "I
guess I need to get used to goodbyes."
   It was the first time in weeks she had mentioned our impending
separation and I felt choked and clung to her.  Seeing our emotional state,
Kate rose and came and embraced us both, laying her head on Paz's shoulder.
We stood this way for a few moments and I finally initiated the breaking
apart.
   "I'll be here just after six tomorrow morning to take you to Heathrow,"
I said and reached and embraced Kate while Paz searched for a handkerchief
to wipe her eyes.  "Make sure you don't sleep in.  We need to get under way
before the commuter traffic builds up."
   "Thank you so much," Kate said and hugged me.  "For being so
understanding...and everything" she said squeezing me on the word
`everything'.
   I squeezed her back as if to say `it's OK.'
   "I just hope you can find a way to be with her," she whispered so Paz
could not hear her.
   I nodded dumbly, and finally after briefly holding Paz to kiss her once
more, I left the two old lovers together.
   ***
   My mother had her way.  I arrived back home the day before Thanksgiving
after numerous delays and worry that I would miss making it on time, I
stood at the airport as she rushed to greet me; tears streaming from her
eyes.  As she chatted happily as dad drove us home I sat and listened but I
was not concentrating on what she was saying.  I thought of the pain I was
feeling for days after I discovered Paz had left London mid November.  I
had gone to see her at the pub where she worked and her gaffer Barry had
raised his eyes in surprise when I asked after her.
   "She's gorn," he had said looking confused as to why I didn't know.
   "Gone where?" I said equally confused at his answer.
   "I dunno," he said.  "Back to Spain I expect.  That's where she lives
isn't it?"
   "No...surely..."I started but he was so sure and insisted she had left
the UK, as far as he knew.
   I stumbled along the street from the pub to Paz's flat and ran up the
stairs two at a time.  I pounded on the door but no one came.  After I
stood calling her name a door opened further along the corridor and a
chubby black female face peered out.
   "You looking for Paz?" she called in a Jamaican accent.
   "Yes," I shouted almost in panic.
   "She's gone back to Spain.  Didn't she say?" came the voice.
   I stood dumbly shaking my head; the tears now falling as I realized my
Paz had left without saying goodbye.  I walked slowly along the hall as the
Jamaican girl stared at me wiping my yes.
   "Thanks," I mumbled as I drew abreast and went to the stairs.
   I called Paz's sister Meira who was calm and business like when I asked
after Paz.
   "I urged her to go first," she said quietly.  "To take control and not
put herself through anymore sad breakups and farewells," she continued.
   "But why couldn't she say goodbye to me even if she was leaving first,"
I whined.
   "It's for the best Steven.  I was just looking out for my little
sister," she said but her voice had softened and I sensed she now
understood the impact on me her advice to Paz had.
   "Look I know I had to go home but I have another month," I stammered
trying to apply reason where there seemed none.
   "I'm sorry Steven but the sooner she can get over you, as she had to do
with the New Zealander...and of course the upset with Juan, here fianc�,
well...it's for her best," she said, a more determined edge coming into her
voice.  "Please understand I was only thinking of Paz.  You'll get back to
America and beyond Christmas Paz will be just a memory of your time in
England; no doubt along with all of the other girls Paz said you had been
with."
   "Sure, maybe it will be that way but in all normal relationships there
needs to be closure where there is a breakup," I began, feeling a little
belligerent towards Meira's meddling.
   "I'm sorry Steven," was all she would say.  "I had to think of Paz.  I'm
sorry.  Now if there's nothing else, I have to go."
   "Wait, Meira...please wait...when you see Paz...speak to her
again...please tell her...tell her I love her.  It wasn't something we
could say because we knew it was futile.  But I know we love each other.  I
know she felt that way about me," I said quickly.  "Would you just tell her
that from me...please?  She'll understand even if you or anyone else
can't," I said and sighed as if I had just confessed to a serious crime; I
was so drained by this turn of events.
   "Certainly Steven," Meira said tentatively.  "I'll pass that on.  Have a
safe trip back to America," and before I could say goodbye, she hung up.
   "Bitch!" I spat into the handset.  "You fucking Diego bitch; like hell
you'll tell her," I shouted and slammed the phone down and then quickly
looked around out of the telephone box in case some one was walking near
and heard.
   I had no need to stay in London now.  My planned grand exit for December
22 was worthless.  I changed my flight, sold my van to a South African
couple outside of South Africa House, and had one last drunken night with
the few drivers that were consistent with the time I had been working for
Clive.  Clive came but fortunately did not bring Libby; that would have
been too weird to handle.  And Trevor and Annie were there, but no Penny of
course.  There was Dave the dispatcher and some of the drivers, and my
flatmates Evelyn and Mark.  I left London under gray November skies and sat
staring out the window into the gloomy expanse of cloudy skies all the way
back to JFK.  I hit the hordes trying to go across America for
Thanksgiving, but I made it home in time.  There was another letter from
Emma waiting for me and she had given me a phone number asking me to call
her.  She had received my letter and her letter was buzzing with excitement
we would be once again on the same land mass as when we had met.  I spoke
to her on the phone after Thanksgiving and we intended getting together in
Montr�al for New Years day 1979; being as she was going across to Vancouver
to stay with relatives for Christmas.  We would take it step by step as she
said.  I agreed, knowing my flowery prose in my lone letter to her had
spooked her a little.  So much had happened to me that year of 1978.  Life
can be stranger than fiction they say, and I could only shake my head at
the good luck I experienced; and the woman, and men, it had brought me into
contact with.  Life is indeed stranger than fiction.
   LONDON DAYS: THE END
  
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*** EPILOGUE As I finish this tale of my sabbatical in London during 1978,
I hear the garage door opening.  The dull metallic clank and the whir of
the motor, as the door winds open.  And then I hear the car driving in
beside my Jeep and the door closing again.  I close the laptop programme
quickly.  This is a private memoir.  I shut the lid and turn and look
behind me.  Paz is standing in the door of the den holding little Stephen,
our only grandchild.
   "Look who I have found Grandy," she says beaming at me; and she jiggles
the six month old boy happily in her arms.
   Steven Junior has a fist in his mouth slobbering; the other hand lightly
grasping his grandmother's dark hair which is shorter now in middle age;
but not a single gray hair is to be seen.  And as I rise and approach them
he reaches his wet hand to me.  He recognizes me always now.  My heart
leaps and I embrace them both and for a moment I catch Paz's eyes and I
think I will cry.  She pats my head.
   "There, there silly hombre'," she giggles in her lilting Spanglish. 
"God blessed us," she says and kisses my forehead.
   As Paz turns to leave the den I see our daughter in-law Jennifer
standing smiling behind her; holding a bag with Jeremy's fresh diapers and
formula as he is to stay here for a few hours while Jennifer goes and
collects our son Carlos from the airport.  He has been to Spain on a
business trip.  He is a representative for his Spanish grandfather Carlos'
business here in America and he has been to the company's quarterly meeting
in Madrid.
   Life is good.  I could never have scripted my life so well thus far.  I
have no complaints.  No regrets.  Paz saw to that when we found each other
again.
   The End
  
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*
   (C) 2008 Romany.  Protected by copyright law.  Please do not copy, edit,
amend or post this on any website without the author's permission.
   Read `London Days 9: Penelope' and other installments of `London Days'
plus other stories by Romany at
https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/gypsey/romany/
   
  
London days 10_Paz