Podcasts about Dcup

Mom's Hot Friend, Rachel Beautiful mature woman Joins Our Family Vacation on the beach. By Stonemarten. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. At the time of this story, I was about 30 years old and still near the peak of my virility; I had recently broken-up from a long-term relationship and feeling a little bruised by the experience, though I never felt lonely, as I've always had good mates around me, both male and female. My mum used to take short holidays out-of-season at a quiet beach resort in Spain and as my dad was constantly working, she often used to share her apartment with AuntyRachel. Rachel wasn't really my Aunty, but a very close friend of my mother's youth. I was told she was very close to us when I was a baby, and that's when she accepted the honorary title of Aunty, by my parents.  She'd married and moved away, but a couple years ago she was divorced. She never had children, so she renewed her connection with mum and the nickname "Aunty" seemed about right. Mum and Aunty were always very close, but I had almost no familiarity with her. She was a fine looking, mature woman in her late fifties and kept very fit and healthy for her age. She had mid-brown hair, which lightened a little in the sun and slight crows-feet around the eyes, for she was always sunning herself, giving her a lovely overall tan. Rachel was not slim, not fat, but curvaceous, with large boobs (I'd say D Cup) and a flattish tummy, a good sized bum with only a hint of cellulite; she went to the gym regularly and was in good shape for her age. Because mum knew I was a little down in the dumps, she asked whether I wished to join her and Rachel for a few days relaxing in the sunshine, eating some healthy Mediterranean food and swimming in the warm sea; not a regular prospect for me when living in Scotland! Up to then, I hadn't spent much time with Rachel, as I lived a long way from my parents since leaving for uni. My folks lived in the South of England. When I had met 'Aunty' while visiting my folks, she had always seemed very vivacious and friendly and I did like the look of her, having a bit of a penchant for mature women. Their little Riviera apartment was on the first floor of a well-kept, but almost deserted block, quite up-market, as the unit had three large bedrooms all on-suite. We each had our own room and space, a cozy arrangement, where we could come and go doing our own thing. My mum, who was a bit of an amateur artist, was off painting really good watercolor paintings; Rachel liked to read books and generally relax in the sunshine, whilst I went off early morning nature and bird-watching, which has always been my special thing (love-making excluded). A Stroll On The Beach Late one afternoon, mum was due to drive to a local beauty spot to paint a sunset and suggested that Rachel and I should perhaps go for a wander along the beach, as the weather was lovely. Just then Rachel strolled into the living room in a skimpy bikini, revealing her lush cleavage and deeply tanned body. How could I say 'no'? We set out together heading westwards along the wide sandy beach, which was almost deserted, except for the odd dog walker. Rachel was dressed in a yellow and white striped bikini with her bottom half wrapped in a light blue sarong. I was wearing t-shirt and swimming shorts. We walked slowly besides each other chatting away warmed by the sun. At one stage, Rachel took my hand and so we strolled hand-in-hand like a couple, but this wasn't a surprise to me as she was naturally an affectionate person. She took genuine interest in my life and preferences, even asking about my sex life and preferences? She treated me as a peer, not as a nephew. When I told her my recent relationship lacked any variety, she gasped; "She wouldn't even let you eat her?" Did she blow you? "No, and no." I said. It was getting hot, so Rachel undid her sarong, so looking down at her bottom, I thought I'd compliment her by saying: "wow, even your ass is tanned brown;" I said, while pulling down my own swim shorts at the back to show her my somewhat paler backside.  She smiled graciously at my compliment. "It's not just my ass that's brown" she said, reaching back to undo her bikini top and letting loose her large, tanned boobs. They were fully-bronzed indeed, sagging slightly of course, but otherwise perfect, with lovely dark brown nipples. "Take your shorts and t-shirt off" she said: "there's no-one around and you could do with getting some sun on your whiter bits". Amazingly, her confidence rubbed off on me and I took off my shirt and pulled my shorts off, becoming totally naked beside her. She put my garments in her beach bag, along with her sarong. My body was in good shape in those days though with a flat stomach and muscles defined from martial arts and the gym. How the hell did I muster up such confidence? So there we were, strolling along hand-in-hand with the only scrap of clothing between the two of us being Rachel's little bikini bottom. Rachel looked amazing and the sway of her hips as she moved caused a slight tumescence in my prick which she couldn't help but notice, as it swung a little from side to side. A couple moments later it was clubbing my thighs in a rhythm set by my walking pace.  All of a sudden, she dropped her hand from mine and reached over instead to grasp my swaying cock in her hand. "Your poor cock is getting knocked around. Such a shame to see such a beautiful phallus being treated so." She said as she led me along at a slower pace. This pleasant surprise immediately had my cock swelling and hardened to a long, thick erection, which she began stroking up and down slowly, whilst sporting a wide smile and wicked glint in her eyes, "what a lovely big boy" she exclaimed. A little way ahead of us was a small break between the sand dunes and an amused Rachel led me towards this gap, pulling me behind her by the cock in a rather comical manner.  I said nothing but anticipated anything could happen next. When we were hidden from view, she released me and spread-out her sarong on the sand. She then took me by the cock and guided me down, kneeling next to where she stood, then pushing me down onto my back in front of her. Dropping onto her knees between my thighs, she leaned her head down towards my rampant cock and placed the engorged pink head into her luscious mouth. Grabbing the shaft and wanking it, she licked and sucked my cock head and down to my balls, causing me to moan and shudder with pleasure; Rachel also gave out little moans, clearly enjoying the effect on me. After a few exquisite minutes, Rachel stood-up and quickly shed her bikini bottoms, moving forward to straddle my firm manhood that she placed between her spreading thighs. Rubbing its head for a few seconds against her moist labia, she eased down slowly to accommodate the thick shaft. Rachel's moist cunt may not have been the tightest, but it was certainly the hottest and wettest I'd ever felt, it was amazing and she could firmly grip me tightly. It took all my will-power not to ejaculate into her right there and then. Fortuitously for my ego, it was this lovely older lady that came first, as even after the first couple of pumps, Rachel was contorting forward and whimpering loudly as she convulsed over and over in a massive orgasm, gushing juices and clamping onto my thick shaft. Rachel's soft, brown tits bounced up and down gloriously as she rode me, pumping up and down on my swollen cock, as we both moaned and groaned in unison. I reached-up to grab and squeeze them, flicking my thumbs over her erect nipples as I did so; within seconds this had the desired effect and Rachel spasmed and pitched with the second of her mighty orgasms, which seemed to go on and on, her face contorted and mouth wide open. After a minute or so of further humping, Rachel rose up a little and I pushed her gently sideways onto her back. Straddling between her wide open legs, my head descended towards her womanhood, my tongue lapping at her engorged lips and clitoris like a cat at the cream; a few seconds of this had Rachel bucking and cumming again, grasping her tits and nipples and arching her back; I carried-on licking for a good five minutes as she gasped and sighed. My rampant cock was straining to return to its hot, wet home, so I moved up and over Rachel, giving her breasts deserved attention with my gaping mouth, before kissing and snogging this beautiful Milf, with our nether organs rubbing against each other. We were so ready for the finale with my favorite love-making position, the missionary. Grabbing my cock by the shaft, I pushed up into her soaking cunt and then plunged with abandon into her lovely body. Over and over I thrust into her, bum bouncing up and down obscenely, cock rodding in and out like a lubricated piston. We were both groaning at the pleasure of it and the pressure was building and building in my sperm-laden balls. Soon I could take it no longer, the site of this beautiful older woman writhing beneath me and the rhythmic squeezing of her cunt on my cock made me explode - jets of warm semen shot from my balls in white spurts through my pulsing shaft, splashing into the intimate depths of the gorgeous Rachel, as she screamed in mutual orgasm at the prize she had won by servicing this rampant young male. After kissing, cuddling and cleaning ourselves up, we set-off back down the beach holding hands as the sun was setting behind us, a little sheepish, as we didn't want mum to find-out what we had done. What was certain though, was that there was no way my lovely mature Rachel would be escaping my lusty clutches at least once again before I left for the UK in a few days' time. Fun times in the shower with amazing older woman. Following our illicit encounter on the beach, I only had a couple of days remaining of my holiday in Spain and was desperate to get to grips with Aunty Rachel at least once more before I left. Mum seemed to notice a change of atmosphere between myself and Rachel on the occasions when the three of us were socialising together.. I never seemed to have a chance to be alone with her, as mum was always around, purposely or not. On the last day before I was due to fly back to the UK, I resigned myself to not having another sexy encounter with the gorgeous lady. After lunch together, mum took Rachel out shopping and I went to sunbathe on a lounger and swim in the pool. Later in the afternoon, I went to the apartment to have a shower and to wash off the chlorine. It was a good sized shower and the shower-head was one of those large modern ones that makes you feel like you're standing in a tropical rainstorm. Needless to say, a lot of steam rose-up which fogged-up the place. Soon I was aware that someone had entered the bathroom, but I couldn't see clearly through the steamed-up glass. A manicured hand slid open the glass door to reveal the fully nude, tanned glory of the lovely Rachel. She stepped into the shower and I pulled her gently towards my slippery body, as the warm water cascaded upon us. We immediately started to kiss passionately and my soapy hands stroked and fondled her wonderful curves. Hers in turn ran-up and down my firm, muscular frame. My cock was quickly at full mast, poking rudely against her belly. One of her hands reached down to grasp the thick shaft, wanking it back and forth, causing the bulbous head to roll-in and out of the foreskin; within seconds this had me moaning with pleasure. Her other hand began to cup and soap my sperm laden balls making pre-cum ooze as a result of her double attention. My hands were upon her large, soft boobs, fondling and gently tweaking the lovely brown nipples into rising peaks. I leaned my head down to suckle them, one and then the other. Moving my right hand down between her legs, I ran my fingers up and down her swollen labia and over her little love button, then into her warm, moist cunt. Rachel gasped, delightfully surprised at the expert fingering of such a fine young man. We carried-on frigging each other, our tongues entwining deliciously in the French manner, groaning and mewing. Rachel's mouth suddenly gaped wide in a high-pitched howl as the spasms of orgasm overwhelmed her, love-hole clamping in pulses on my fingers and soaking them with juices. I was sure our secret was now discovered. The whole building had to have heard Rachel's orgasm. She noticed my concern and simply said; "It'll take her at least another 30 minutes to get back here. When we left the shower, we were clean in one way for sure, but very dirty in another, as Rachel leaned over me to envelop my stiff cock in her mouth, sucking and butterfly licking its sensitive head. I grabbed a large bath towel and started drying-us down as Rachel's head bobbed back and forth. Discarding the towel, I followed Rachel into her bedroom admiring her curvy figure, fantastic for a woman now in her midlife. When she turned towards me, I pushed her backwards onto the bed, with my strong body on top of her, opening thighs wide and watching her soft tits bounce up and down. My cock found her cunt with impeccable aim and eased all the way into her warm moist sheath. Rachel may have been a mature woman, but she was a perfect fit for my youthful prick as I began to piston in and out of her. Smooth bronze legs curled around the back of my thighs, as I pumped over and over again to a chorus of: "oh baby, oh baby, oh baby!" With the feeling I was about to cum, I built-up the intensity of my thrusts, so that Rachel could sense it and her cries grew louder as she peaked towards her own climax. I was there and with a guttural growl, erupted, spunk shooting and coating her intimate place with torrents of warm white seed. As if on instinct, Rachel's cunt clenched in uncontrollable spasms as she wailed in the throes of her own orgasm. When mum arrived home sometime later, Rachel and I were in the kitchen drinking wine as if nothing had happened. A conspiratorial grin from Rachel was the only confirmation of our secretive passion. I flew out of Spain the next morning with a renewed sense of joy. I took the train from London to Edinburgh while having the distinct feeling that it wouldn't be long before I would partake again in the pleasures of Rachel, the gorgeous older woman. Lovely, mature Rachel heats-up my wee flat in Edinburgh. My heart raced a little faster when I saw the unmistakable, curvy figure of Aunty Rachel coming towards me down the platform of Waverley Station in Edinburgh. She looked as beautiful as ever as I gathered her up in my arms for a kiss. She was wearing a figure-hugging, light blue dress showing off her ample cleavage, underneath a short, pale yellow jacket and white scarf with blue polka dots. She was looking very summery with her tan, sun-lightened, brown hair and large round sunglasses. I grabbed her suitcase and held her hand as we headed-up onto Princes Street and then on to Rose Street to a pub for a drink, so she could relax after her long journey from the South of England The pub was very busy, so we sat cozily next to each other chatting, whilst I drank my pint of Belhaven Best and she sipped her gin and tonic. Her sweet perfume and the proximity of this luscious, mature woman had my cock swelling a little in my trousers, so I leaned over to kiss her full lips, as our thighs rubbed softly together and her hand gently stroked my knee. After a second round of drinks, I was beginning to feel a bit tipsy and even more horny at the thought of a proper re-acquaintance with this gorgeous creature. We left the pub and took a cab from a nearby taxi-rank for the short journey to my flat in the old city. On closing the door to my cozy wee place, Rachel put her arms around me for a hug and I pushed her gently up against the wall in the hallway so we could kiss passionately, our hands running hungrily over each other's bodies. My fully engorged prick ground against her luscious mound as we snogged, with Rachel rotating her hips a little to allow maximum contact to her sensitive places, making her moan quietly into my mouth, as our tongues fenced and swirled. Breaking-off reluctantly and holding Rachel's hand, I gave her a brief tour of my little bachelor pad at which she was suitably impressed. I had set a romantic table for two in the kitchen and started to cook a light stir-fry with sea-food in my wok, as Rachel chatted to me cheerily over a glass or two of Chablis. Rachel looked even prettier with her eyes sparkling over our candlelight dinner and I felt my seductive banter and boozy, home-made tiramisu was bound to get her in the mood for loving. After the meal, Rachel disappeared into the bathroom, whilst I sat languishing on my sofa with a little dram. She entered the sitting room wearing my toweling bathrobe. As she stood in front of me with a cheeky smile, she undid the belt and slowly slid the robe off her shoulders to reveal a magnificent sight to any young, horny guy like me. Rachel was in the finest lingerie, matching ivory silk bra and panties covered with red roses and silk stockings and suspenders of the same creamy color. With her tan and feminine curves, she looked amazing as she gave a sexy little wiggle and turn for my admiration. I rose to my feet, with a hard cock pressing visibly in my trousers and held her hand above her head as she twirled like in a ballroom dance. Standing back and gazing from her head to her varnished toes with unbridled lust, I gathered her into my arms for a passionate snog. My hands stroked up and down her lovely body and through her hair and she did the same with my manly frame. We carried-on French kissing and moaning gently as my hands cupped and fondled her large, silk-encased globes, thumb flicking softly over her nipples, causing them to poke-out through the shiny fabric. My other hand strayed between her legs to rub up and down her cunt lips, so that moisture seeped on-to my fingers through the silky material. Rachel moaned and held hard onto me, as her knees buckled at the pleasure flashing through her from my dexterous digits. I was desperate to shaft this gorgeous, mature woman, so scooped her into my arms and carried her into my bedroom, throwing her onto my king-sized bed. As I was stripping off my clothing, Rachel spread her thighs and ran her graceful fingers up and down the soaking silk of her panties. "I love your strong, young body" she gasped. When I'd stripped off my boxer shorts and my thick, hard cock bounced-out, she couldn't take her eyes off it and placed her hand inside her panties to rub her sensitive clitty with abandon. I maneuvered my head between her legs and pulled aside her panties to admire her moist cunt, then used the flat of my tongue to lap at her engorged labia. This had Rachel squirming and moaning as she ran her fingers through my hair. Flicking my tongue like a side to side like a lizard on her little bud, whilst fingering her cunt, soon had Rachel arching and spasming in orgasm, squirting some love juice onto my hand and face. Moving up her lovely body, she had undone her bra, freeing me to fondle those fulsome, tanned boobies and suckle and butterfly flick her long, brown nipples to her evident delight. Her hand reached down to grasp my thick cock, jerking it up and down slowly with elegant fingers. "I want that big boy inside of me" she pleaded, rising up and guiding my rampant erection towards her silk covered womanhood. Pulling her panties to one side, she slowly impaled herself down onto the thick shaft, gasping as she did so. "Oh, how you fill me, oh I love it" she moaned and shuddered. Rachel began to ease up and down, soon riding my cock like a desperado, her mouth open wide in ecstasy, as I pumped up into her. Warm love juices and precum mixed and streamed down my pistoning rod, flowing over hairy balls onto the duvet beneath. We were both gasping and groaning in unity, with me so close to exploding and Rachel screaming as she came again, a second huge orgasm pulsing in waves through her gorgeous body. Turning the panting Rachel onto her back, I lay on top kissing her face and neck, as she recovered from such a powerful climax. The head of my engorged prick was probing lightly at her dripping labia and throbbing clit as we petted lovingly. Soon she was ready for me again and reached down to guide my hard cock towards the entrance of her open cunt, then grasped my firm ass, pushing me all the way deep into her soaking love tunnel. I began to thrust, slowly at first and then with gathering pace as Rachel's lovely, hot cunt enticed and squeezed my throbbing shaft. She moaned and cried: "Oh God, oh God" as I pumped her harder and harder, grinding on her clitty on the downward stroke to push her towards heights of desire. Soon, I knew that I could hold out no longer; my aching balls were rising and the pressure within them building to blasting point. In and out, in and out I humped, balls-deep into this beautiful cougar, her wanton body arching upwards to match my thrusts. Then it was there, I was coming, sperm rushing from balls through throbbing shaft, jetting streams of hot white spunk into lovely Rachel's soaking cunt, herself rippling again in orgasm, as if to milk every last spurt of young man's juice into her grasping womb. We lay in each other's arms, gazing into adoring eyes and kissing fondly as we caught our breath from our loving exertions. We had the whole weekend ahead of us and I knew I would have to summon all my youthful strength and energy to satisfy the unbridled lust of this wonderful older woman. Rachel was an incredibly orgasmic, mature woman and I believe I brought-out the very best of her sexuality. By Stonemarten for Literotica

Mom's Hot Friend, Rachel Beautiful mature woman Joins Our Family Vacation on the beach. By Stonemarten. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. At the time of this story, I was about 30 years old and still near the peak of my virility; I had recently broken-up from a long-term relationship and feeling a little bruised by the experience, though I never felt lonely, as I've always had good mates around me, both male and female. My mum used to take short holidays out-of-season at a quiet beach resort in Spain and as my dad was constantly working, she often used to share her apartment with AuntyRachel. Rachel wasn't really my Aunty, but a very close friend of my mother's youth. I was told she was very close to us when I was a baby, and that's when she accepted the honorary title of Aunty, by my parents.  She'd married and moved away, but a couple years ago she was divorced. She never had children, so she renewed her connection with mum and the nickname "Aunty" seemed about right. Mum and Aunty were always very close, but I had almost no familiarity with her. She was a fine looking, mature woman in her late fifties and kept very fit and healthy for her age. She had mid-brown hair, which lightened a little in the sun and slight crows-feet around the eyes, for she was always sunning herself, giving her a lovely overall tan. Rachel was not slim, not fat, but curvaceous, with large boobs (I'd say D Cup) and a flattish tummy, a good sized bum with only a hint of cellulite; she went to the gym regularly and was in good shape for her age. Because mum knew I was a little down in the dumps, she asked whether I wished to join her and Rachel for a few days relaxing in the sunshine, eating some healthy Mediterranean food and swimming in the warm sea; not a regular prospect for me when living in Scotland! Up to then, I hadn't spent much time with Rachel, as I lived a long way from my parents since leaving for uni. My folks lived in the South of England. When I had met 'Aunty' while visiting my folks, she had always seemed very vivacious and friendly and I did like the look of her, having a bit of a penchant for mature women. Their little Riviera apartment was on the first floor of a well-kept, but almost deserted block, quite up-market, as the unit had three large bedrooms all on-suite. We each had our own room and space, a cozy arrangement, where we could come and go doing our own thing. My mum, who was a bit of an amateur artist, was off painting really good watercolor paintings; Rachel liked to read books and generally relax in the sunshine, whilst I went off early morning nature and bird-watching, which has always been my special thing (love-making excluded). A Stroll On The Beach Late one afternoon, mum was due to drive to a local beauty spot to paint a sunset and suggested that Rachel and I should perhaps go for a wander along the beach, as the weather was lovely. Just then Rachel strolled into the living room in a skimpy bikini, revealing her lush cleavage and deeply tanned body. How could I say 'no'? We set out together heading westwards along the wide sandy beach, which was almost deserted, except for the odd dog walker. Rachel was dressed in a yellow and white striped bikini with her bottom half wrapped in a light blue sarong. I was wearing t-shirt and swimming shorts. We walked slowly besides each other chatting away warmed by the sun. At one stage, Rachel took my hand and so we strolled hand-in-hand like a couple, but this wasn't a surprise to me as she was naturally an affectionate person. She took genuine interest in my life and preferences, even asking about my sex life and preferences? She treated me as a peer, not as a nephew. When I told her my recent relationship lacked any variety, she gasped; "She wouldn't even let you eat her?" Did she blow you? "No, and no." I said. It was getting hot, so Rachel undid her sarong, so looking down at her bottom, I thought I'd compliment her by saying: "wow, even your ass is tanned brown;" I said, while pulling down my own swim shorts at the back to show her my somewhat paler backside.  She smiled graciously at my compliment. "It's not just my ass that's brown" she said, reaching back to undo her bikini top and letting loose her large, tanned boobs. They were fully-bronzed indeed, sagging slightly of course, but otherwise perfect, with lovely dark brown nipples. "Take your shorts and t-shirt off" she said: "there's no-one around and you could do with getting some sun on your whiter bits". Amazingly, her confidence rubbed off on me and I took off my shirt and pulled my shorts off, becoming totally naked beside her. She put my garments in her beach bag, along with her sarong. My body was in good shape in those days though with a flat stomach and muscles defined from martial arts and the gym. How the hell did I muster up such confidence? So there we were, strolling along hand-in-hand with the only scrap of clothing between the two of us being Rachel's little bikini bottom. Rachel looked amazing and the sway of her hips as she moved caused a slight tumescence in my prick which she couldn't help but notice, as it swung a little from side to side. A couple moments later it was clubbing my thighs in a rhythm set by my walking pace.  All of a sudden, she dropped her hand from mine and reached over instead to grasp my swaying cock in her hand. "Your poor cock is getting knocked around. Such a shame to see such a beautiful phallus being treated so." She said as she led me along at a slower pace. This pleasant surprise immediately had my cock swelling and hardened to a long, thick erection, which she began stroking up and down slowly, whilst sporting a wide smile and wicked glint in her eyes, "what a lovely big boy" she exclaimed. A little way ahead of us was a small break between the sand dunes and an amused Rachel led me towards this gap, pulling me behind her by the cock in a rather comical manner.  I said nothing but anticipated anything could happen next. When we were hidden from view, she released me and spread-out her sarong on the sand. She then took me by the cock and guided me down, kneeling next to where she stood, then pushing me down onto my back in front of her. Dropping onto her knees between my thighs, she leaned her head down towards my rampant cock and placed the engorged pink head into her luscious mouth. Grabbing the shaft and wanking it, she licked and sucked my cock head and down to my balls, causing me to moan and shudder with pleasure; Rachel also gave out little moans, clearly enjoying the effect on me. After a few exquisite minutes, Rachel stood-up and quickly shed her bikini bottoms, moving forward to straddle my firm manhood that she placed between her spreading thighs. Rubbing its head for a few seconds against her moist labia, she eased down slowly to accommodate the thick shaft. Rachel's moist cunt may not have been the tightest, but it was certainly the hottest and wettest I'd ever felt, it was amazing and she could firmly grip me tightly. It took all my will-power not to ejaculate into her right there and then. Fortuitously for my ego, it was this lovely older lady that came first, as even after the first couple of pumps, Rachel was contorting forward and whimpering loudly as she convulsed over and over in a massive orgasm, gushing juices and clamping onto my thick shaft. Rachel's soft, brown tits bounced up and down gloriously as she rode me, pumping up and down on my swollen cock, as we both moaned and groaned in unison. I reached-up to grab and squeeze them, flicking my thumbs over her erect nipples as I did so; within seconds this had the desired effect and Rachel spasmed and pitched with the second of her mighty orgasms, which seemed to go on and on, her face contorted and mouth wide open. After a minute or so of further humping, Rachel rose up a little and I pushed her gently sideways onto her back. Straddling between her wide open legs, my head descended towards her womanhood, my tongue lapping at her engorged lips and clitoris like a cat at the cream; a few seconds of this had Rachel bucking and cumming again, grasping her tits and nipples and arching her back; I carried-on licking for a good five minutes as she gasped and sighed. My rampant cock was straining to return to its hot, wet home, so I moved up and over Rachel, giving her breasts deserved attention with my gaping mouth, before kissing and snogging this beautiful Milf, with our nether organs rubbing against each other. We were so ready for the finale with my favorite love-making position, the missionary. Grabbing my cock by the shaft, I pushed up into her soaking cunt and then plunged with abandon into her lovely body. Over and over I thrust into her, bum bouncing up and down obscenely, cock rodding in and out like a lubricated piston. We were both groaning at the pleasure of it and the pressure was building and building in my sperm-laden balls. Soon I could take it no longer, the site of this beautiful older woman writhing beneath me and the rhythmic squeezing of her cunt on my cock made me explode - jets of warm semen shot from my balls in white spurts through my pulsing shaft, splashing into the intimate depths of the gorgeous Rachel, as she screamed in mutual orgasm at the prize she had won by servicing this rampant young male. After kissing, cuddling and cleaning ourselves up, we set-off back down the beach holding hands as the sun was setting behind us, a little sheepish, as we didn't want mum to find-out what we had done. What was certain though, was that there was no way my lovely mature Rachel would be escaping my lusty clutches at least once again before I left for the UK in a few days' time. Fun times in the shower with amazing older woman. Following our illicit encounter on the beach, I only had a couple of days remaining of my holiday in Spain and was desperate to get to grips with Aunty Rachel at least once more before I left. Mum seemed to notice a change of atmosphere between myself and Rachel on the occasions when the three of us were socialising together.. I never seemed to have a chance to be alone with her, as mum was always around, purposely or not. On the last day before I was due to fly back to the UK, I resigned myself to not having another sexy encounter with the gorgeous lady. After lunch together, mum took Rachel out shopping and I went to sunbathe on a lounger and swim in the pool. Later in the afternoon, I went to the apartment to have a shower and to wash off the chlorine. It was a good sized shower and the shower-head was one of those large modern ones that makes you feel like you're standing in a tropical rainstorm. Needless to say, a lot of steam rose-up which fogged-up the place. Soon I was aware that someone had entered the bathroom, but I couldn't see clearly through the steamed-up glass. A manicured hand slid open the glass door to reveal the fully nude, tanned glory of the lovely Rachel. She stepped into the shower and I pulled her gently towards my slippery body, as the warm water cascaded upon us. We immediately started to kiss passionately and my soapy hands stroked and fondled her wonderful curves. Hers in turn ran-up and down my firm, muscular frame. My cock was quickly at full mast, poking rudely against her belly. One of her hands reached down to grasp the thick shaft, wanking it back and forth, causing the bulbous head to roll-in and out of the foreskin; within seconds this had me moaning with pleasure. Her other hand began to cup and soap my sperm laden balls making pre-cum ooze as a result of her double attention. My hands were upon her large, soft boobs, fondling and gently tweaking the lovely brown nipples into rising peaks. I leaned my head down to suckle them, one and then the other. Moving my right hand down between her legs, I ran my fingers up and down her swollen labia and over her little love button, then into her warm, moist cunt. Rachel gasped, delightfully surprised at the expert fingering of such a fine young man. We carried-on frigging each other, our tongues entwining deliciously in the French manner, groaning and mewing. Rachel's mouth suddenly gaped wide in a high-pitched howl as the spasms of orgasm overwhelmed her, love-hole clamping in pulses on my fingers and soaking them with juices. I was sure our secret was now discovered. The whole building had to have heard Rachel's orgasm. She noticed my concern and simply said; "It'll take her at least another 30 minutes to get back here. When we left the shower, we were clean in one way for sure, but very dirty in another, as Rachel leaned over me to envelop my stiff cock in her mouth, sucking and butterfly licking its sensitive head. I grabbed a large bath towel and started drying-us down as Rachel's head bobbed back and forth. Discarding the towel, I followed Rachel into her bedroom admiring her curvy figure, fantastic for a woman now in her midlife. When she turned towards me, I pushed her backwards onto the bed, with my strong body on top of her, opening thighs wide and watching her soft tits bounce up and down. My cock found her cunt with impeccable aim and eased all the way into her warm moist sheath. Rachel may have been a mature woman, but she was a perfect fit for my youthful prick as I began to piston in and out of her. Smooth bronze legs curled around the back of my thighs, as I pumped over and over again to a chorus of: "oh baby, oh baby, oh baby!" With the feeling I was about to cum, I built-up the intensity of my thrusts, so that Rachel could sense it and her cries grew louder as she peaked towards her own climax. I was there and with a guttural growl, erupted, spunk shooting and coating her intimate place with torrents of warm white seed. As if on instinct, Rachel's cunt clenched in uncontrollable spasms as she wailed in the throes of her own orgasm. When mum arrived home sometime later, Rachel and I were in the kitchen drinking wine as if nothing had happened. A conspiratorial grin from Rachel was the only confirmation of our secretive passion. I flew out of Spain the next morning with a renewed sense of joy. I took the train from London to Edinburgh while having the distinct feeling that it wouldn't be long before I would partake again in the pleasures of Rachel, the gorgeous older woman. Lovely, mature Rachel heats-up my wee flat in Edinburgh. My heart raced a little faster when I saw the unmistakable, curvy figure of Aunty Rachel coming towards me down the platform of Waverley Station in Edinburgh. She looked as beautiful as ever as I gathered her up in my arms for a kiss. She was wearing a figure-hugging, light blue dress showing off her ample cleavage, underneath a short, pale yellow jacket and white scarf with blue polka dots. She was looking very summery with her tan, sun-lightened, brown hair and large round sunglasses. I grabbed her suitcase and held her hand as we headed-up onto Princes Street and then on to Rose Street to a pub for a drink, so she could relax after her long journey from the South of England The pub was very busy, so we sat cozily next to each other chatting, whilst I drank my pint of Belhaven Best and she sipped her gin and tonic. Her sweet perfume and the proximity of this luscious, mature woman had my cock swelling a little in my trousers, so I leaned over to kiss her full lips, as our thighs rubbed softly together and her hand gently stroked my knee. After a second round of drinks, I was beginning to feel a bit tipsy and even more horny at the thought of a proper re-acquaintance with this gorgeous creature. We left the pub and took a cab from a nearby taxi-rank for the short journey to my flat in the old city. On closing the door to my cozy wee place, Rachel put her arms around me for a hug and I pushed her gently up against the wall in the hallway so we could kiss passionately, our hands running hungrily over each other's bodies. My fully engorged prick ground against her luscious mound as we snogged, with Rachel rotating her hips a little to allow maximum contact to her sensitive places, making her moan quietly into my mouth, as our tongues fenced and swirled. Breaking-off reluctantly and holding Rachel's hand, I gave her a brief tour of my little bachelor pad at which she was suitably impressed. I had set a romantic table for two in the kitchen and started to cook a light stir-fry with sea-food in my wok, as Rachel chatted to me cheerily over a glass or two of Chablis. Rachel looked even prettier with her eyes sparkling over our candlelight dinner and I felt my seductive banter and boozy, home-made tiramisu was bound to get her in the mood for loving. After the meal, Rachel disappeared into the bathroom, whilst I sat languishing on my sofa with a little dram. She entered the sitting room wearing my toweling bathrobe. As she stood in front of me with a cheeky smile, she undid the belt and slowly slid the robe off her shoulders to reveal a magnificent sight to any young, horny guy like me. Rachel was in the finest lingerie, matching ivory silk bra and panties covered with red roses and silk stockings and suspenders of the same creamy color. With her tan and feminine curves, she looked amazing as she gave a sexy little wiggle and turn for my admiration. I rose to my feet, with a hard cock pressing visibly in my trousers and held her hand above her head as she twirled like in a ballroom dance. Standing back and gazing from her head to her varnished toes with unbridled lust, I gathered her into my arms for a passionate snog. My hands stroked up and down her lovely body and through her hair and she did the same with my manly frame. We carried-on French kissing and moaning gently as my hands cupped and fondled her large, silk-encased globes, thumb flicking softly over her nipples, causing them to poke-out through the shiny fabric. My other hand strayed between her legs to rub up and down her cunt lips, so that moisture seeped on-to my fingers through the silky material. Rachel moaned and held hard onto me, as her knees buckled at the pleasure flashing through her from my dexterous digits. I was desperate to shaft this gorgeous, mature woman, so scooped her into my arms and carried her into my bedroom, throwing her onto my king-sized bed. As I was stripping off my clothing, Rachel spread her thighs and ran her graceful fingers up and down the soaking silk of her panties. "I love your strong, young body" she gasped. When I'd stripped off my boxer shorts and my thick, hard cock bounced-out, she couldn't take her eyes off it and placed her hand inside her panties to rub her sensitive clitty with abandon. I maneuvered my head between her legs and pulled aside her panties to admire her moist cunt, then used the flat of my tongue to lap at her engorged labia. This had Rachel squirming and moaning as she ran her fingers through my hair. Flicking my tongue like a side to side like a lizard on her little bud, whilst fingering her cunt, soon had Rachel arching and spasming in orgasm, squirting some love juice onto my hand and face. Moving up her lovely body, she had undone her bra, freeing me to fondle those fulsome, tanned boobies and suckle and butterfly flick her long, brown nipples to her evident delight. Her hand reached down to grasp my thick cock, jerking it up and down slowly with elegant fingers. "I want that big boy inside of me" she pleaded, rising up and guiding my rampant erection towards her silk covered womanhood. Pulling her panties to one side, she slowly impaled herself down onto the thick shaft, gasping as she did so. "Oh, how you fill me, oh I love it" she moaned and shuddered. Rachel began to ease up and down, soon riding my cock like a desperado, her mouth open wide in ecstasy, as I pumped up into her. Warm love juices and precum mixed and streamed down my pistoning rod, flowing over hairy balls onto the duvet beneath. We were both gasping and groaning in unity, with me so close to exploding and Rachel screaming as she came again, a second huge orgasm pulsing in waves through her gorgeous body. Turning the panting Rachel onto her back, I lay on top kissing her face and neck, as she recovered from such a powerful climax. The head of my engorged prick was probing lightly at her dripping labia and throbbing clit as we petted lovingly. Soon she was ready for me again and reached down to guide my hard cock towards the entrance of her open cunt, then grasped my firm ass, pushing me all the way deep into her soaking love tunnel. I began to thrust, slowly at first and then with gathering pace as Rachel's lovely, hot cunt enticed and squeezed my throbbing shaft. She moaned and cried: "Oh God, oh God" as I pumped her harder and harder, grinding on her clitty on the downward stroke to push her towards heights of desire. Soon, I knew that I could hold out no longer; my aching balls were rising and the pressure within them building to blasting point. In and out, in and out I humped, balls-deep into this beautiful cougar, her wanton body arching upwards to match my thrusts. Then it was there, I was coming, sperm rushing from balls through throbbing shaft, jetting streams of hot white spunk into lovely Rachel's soaking cunt, herself rippling again in orgasm, as if to milk every last spurt of young man's juice into her grasping womb. We lay in each other's arms, gazing into adoring eyes and kissing fondly as we caught our breath from our loving exertions. We had the whole weekend ahead of us and I knew I would have to summon all my youthful strength and energy to satisfy the unbridled lust of this wonderful older woman. Rachel was an incredibly orgasmic, mature woman and I believe I brought-out the very best of her sexuality. By Stonemarten for Literotica

Setlist: 01.Azana, Mapho.Wav - Love 02.BRUNN & Reminder (BR) - La Luna 03.Morane, Mosoo, Ajna (BE), Samm (BE) - If I Have To 04.LENny (IT) - Judge Me 05.Apple Gule, DJ Drift Franklyn, Sol Nova - Energy 06.Ben Arsenal, Edan Rivers - Poquito Mas 07.Moojo - Mockingbird 08.Bob Sinclar, Sagan - Amora Amor ( Sagan Remix ) 09.Matango - Te Amp (Afro house version) 10.AUGUSTE, KiDi, Black Sherif - Lomo Lomo (AUGUSTE Version) 11.BLOND:ISH, Night Tales - Shout it out 12.Yolanda Be Cool, Dcup - Sugar Man (Yolanda Be Cool, Dcup 10th Anniversary) 13.Safar (FR), LaCloarec - Loca Maria 14.Jamie Jones, Milushka - La Musa (Adam Ten % Rafael Remix) 15.DJ Wady, Afroloko - Dunza 16.Owa Oda - Yeti 17.Ira Ange, Cafe Anatolia, Denis Kulikov -Maya (Sarab Remix) 18.just a boy - What I Didn't Say 19.Rebeca, KVSH, Fullmode, Julia Secchin - Quero Ir pra Bahia Com Voce ft Lemon 20.Marsellus - Plenty youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f-ZvvctcCXQ Comment, follow, share. YouTube link youtu.be/aA6I8J0_gr8 Part 1 Djkevinlomax – Kevin-lomax-moda-beats Thank you! This is just a promotional material, copyrights to music belong to the artists and their production labels; support the artists, buying their records and releases !!! Follow me at: Apple podcast - Music Art Radioshow - The Best of House podcasts.apple.com/bg/podcast/musi…se/id1337193092 Soundcloud: @djkevinlomax www.mixcloud.com/kevinlomax/ www.facebook.com/DJKevinLomax Follow me at other profiles: YOUTUBE: www.youtube.com/user/TheIvagrand and our new channel: goo.gl/ckQAkZ

Patching things up with Yasmin  and  Nikita plus complications. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “Strength is equal parts Body and the Mind, but true strength comes from a relentless Spirit.” (Late Saturday Morning) "Why is she here?" Yasmin asked me, giving a nod toward Buffy. Buffy was a good ten meters away, technically fulfilling her duty as my bodyguard. Yasmin had agreed to meet me at a park. "Her name is Buffy Dubois and she's my bodyguard for the weekend," I explained. "At least I'm back at my apartment." "What happens with her if you don't go back to work Monday?" Yasmin inquired. "Does your 'bodyguard' kill you?" "Nah, not Buffy," I gave a lop-sided grin. "My co-workers believe in overkill. I bet they'll send at least three to make it nice, swift and quiet." "Why do you joke about this?" Yasmin studied me. "As opposed to what?" I chuckled. "Lashing out is futile. Running isn't much better. I chose to fight when I must, love when I can and laugh when I should be crying." "Do you think they will come after me?" she murmured. What Yasmin really wanted to know was if her 3-year old son was in danger. From everything I'd learned and seen about Yasmin, she was tough as nails. I had given this some serious thought. I couldn't read Katrina's, or Hayden's minds, so I had to go on my limited experience. Yasmin had seen and heard a great deal yet Elsa let her walk away, and that had definitely been Elsa's doing. Elsa was the worst kind of racial Supremacist; the benevolent one. She didn't base her status on some pseudo-scientific mumbo-jumbo. She based it on the feats of her ancestors, the training she had endured and the devotion she and her sisters dedicated to their craft; violence. She was better than the rest of humanity because she could kill us if she desired and take what she wanted. We had what we had, even our lives, because she allowed it and she had no orders to the contrary. That was her generosity; her benevolent act. "Might," I sighed. "If I fuck up my balancing act, they might use you to hurt me, or as an object lesson." Yasmin's face clouded with anger. "Why did you invite me over if you thought things would develop this way?" Yasmin glared. "Not being insane, I cannot fathom the minds of the insane," I reasoned. "As soon as I find a way around one challenge, they throw up something new. I certainly didn't know there was a 'members only' facility along with a gym for the rest of us peons." She looked down at her hands. "They really are some kind of crazy cult," she muttered. She sighed. "You can't get out and now they know I exist; this is screwed up. What are we going to do?" She could be referring to herself and her son, or herself and me. "I've got some money," I said. "A few thousand. I can get you plane tickets and you two can take off somewhere safer than here." "You are a real man," Yasmin slowly smiled. What? Sensing my confusion. "You take responsibility for your actions, protect the weak and those in need, and you are brave in the face of pain and adversity. Where I come from, that is the definition of a man." "Funny; where I come from that is the definition of bad Hollywood scriptwriting," I grinned. "Ha," she laughed. She'd decided to stick around and fuck me despite the specter of eminent death. She was not callous to the fate of her child. Far from it. The only ally she had in this fight was me. She'd beat the fuck out of her husband with a bullet in her shoulder. When surrounded by hostile Amazons she still struggled to get to my side. "What about your Jason Statham?" she prodded. "He's English. Besides, I prefer Chiaki Kuriyama," I eyebrow pumped. "There is something about a chick with cast-iron balls." "Who?" Yasmin searched her memories. "Gogo Yubari from Kill Bill Volume 1," I informed her. Yasmin thought that over. "That girl was clearly insane!" she thumped my chest. "Believe me, female mental health issues have never stopped me in the past," I shrugged. "I'm beginning to think you have low standards," Yasmin smirked. "That implies you think more of me than most women who actually know me," I snorted. "Let's go get something to eat. There is a place that serves authentic Acarajé and Vatapá close by," Yasmin stood and took my hand. I went with her. "So, what are those things you mentioned?" I asked. "You'll have to wait and find out. I owe you a few dozen surprises after what you've put me through," she teased. After a few seconds, I started laughing. Yasmin was confused. "As bad as it is going to be for me, think how rough it is going to be on Buffy," I chuckled. "As far as I know, she doesn't even speak Portuguese, much less traveled to Brazil." The restaurant taught me a few things. Yasmin was a regular, the men knew her and were afraid of her. A little bit of eye-ball psychology taught me that Yasmin was apparently a one woman domestic abuse arbitrator. Translation: if you were a man who hit your wife, or girlfriend, she pointed you to the closest Emergency Room after she was done with you. In Brazil, men could use the 'machismo' defense; basically, the bitch had it coming because she threatened my manhood. In Yasmin's New York City, machismo worked a 'little' differently. Essentially, there wasn't a 'straight' Brazilian man alive who would admit that Yasmin, a woman, had beat the ever-living Hell out of them. The Brazilian ladies who stopped by introduced me to another quaint Yasmin term. It was called 'parroting'. Parroting was what happened when some asshole became a real, repeat problem. Yasmin dragged them to the roof of whatever building she found the dumbass in and threw him off; technically aiming for the closest dumpster. The men often flapped and squawked like parrots as the plummeted down, thus the term. Women were stopping by because I appeared to be an aberration; a man on a date with Yasmin. Best of all, 80% of the conversation in a language I didn't know. The first serious question thus caught me out of the blue. "Do you date many women?" one sultry number purred. "I'm not sure I would say 'many'," responded after some feigned concentration. "I only date women from Manhattan; and the Tri-State Area; pretty much the East Coast; and the Ohio Valley and the Mississippi Valley. I should include the Deep South; okay, maybe every women this side of the Rockies; and the West Coast; Hawaii and Alaska would be a change of pace as well." "I've met some nice Asian girls," I continued to muse, "and South America is looking real promising at the moment. At this point," I looked over the small clique of women hanging about, "ignoring Africa, Europe, India and the Middle East would be short-sighted." "Do you fuck as good as you exaggerate, (along with some pet name I didn't know)?" the waitress asked. I could so do her. "No," I sighed. "I'm a virgin boy fresh out of Catholic School and have never known the intimate touch of a woman." For a second, they all wanted to believe that. Guys aren't the only ones who want to 'break in' a virgin, believe me. I've used the 'I'm a nervous virgin uncertain if I want to attempt sex' mystique more than once. It is a win-win. Sexually under-confident women know they won't be judged against any other women and when the sex becomes stellar, they think they are great teachers so they become more willing to experiment. After all, if they get it wrong, I; the young virgin; won't know the difference. Now, it is not that I always lie. It is just that the truth doesn't normally get me what I want. As an example, if a girl is terrible at giving a blowjob; don't tell her that. Tell her she's doing fine, but maybe this (a technique you know works) might feel different (i.e. better/less painful). Sure, I lied to her. Instead of making her upset and not want to continue in the art of fellatio, she learned a valuable lesson and will not only make me happy, she'll make happy every other man she is with later. Others can keep their slavish devotion to honesty. I'd rather dispense happiness. Besides, I'll give them other reasons to be pissed with me soon enough. "Hardly," Yasmin laughed. "I imagine the closest you've come to religion is thanking God when you've discovered your date had a horny sister and was willing to share." "Wow; break room talk much," I had the decency to appear embarrassed. "Why yes," Yasmin smirked. "Ms. Reichmann was very expressive in her recounting of your bedroom antics with her and her sister after the sister's date passed out." "To be fair, I hadn't had sex all day and I was kind of wound up," I offered up. "Do you like toying with women's affections?" my original questioner asked. "Wha; wait," I frowned. "You think I'm going out with Yasmin because I want to have sex with her?" Of course I was. "She's interesting and we both practice Brazilian jujutsu." "Why would I hunt down a studio when I found a perfectly good practitioner on the job? Plus, my work place had the sparring mats," I explained. Remember, when lying, tell a lie your audience wants to believe. Yasmin was a feminine titan, standing alone (with her son) against a hostile male world. The women around me counted on that. Dating a hot, physically fit hunk for the purpose of sexual gratification was totally realistic. Dating me because I knew her martial arts style was far less believable, but made them happier, so they went with option B; the workout buddy. "The truth must be like gold to you," Yasmin snickered. "It is so valuable, you hardly ever use it." She looked at her buddies. "I have wrestled him to the mat and he was VERY interested." "Yasmin, that wasn't me hard. When aroused, I'm much bigger," I pleaded. "Liar," she smacked me in the bicep. "I need to take care of something. Don't run off with him," she told the girls; in English; for my benefit. Yasmin left our small table and headed for Buffy who was leaning against the wall right inside the doorway. I couldn't overhear what they were saying. Buffy smiled, nodded and took a table. A minute later, Yasmin had ordered food for Buffy then came back my way. "Is that your girlfriend?" my waitress asked. Why she wasn't working wasn't clear to me. "No, she's his bodyguard," Yasmin interrupted. "Yes, she is," I countered half a second later. I looked at Yasmin. "You know that woman who beat me into the ground?" I met Yasmin's gaze. She nodded. "Well, she was giving Buffy crap for all kinds of reason; only peripherally for befriending me. I didn't have sex with her to get back at that lady. I did it because she needed me and I needed her. After this, we can't engage in intercourse for; 71 days. It's complicated." "Sex with you is some sort of gift?" another one taunted. "Absolutely," I grinned. "Ask every other woman I've been with. Hell, they love me so much, when we break up they normally take some sort of weapon to me, books being the most popular, but I've been shot at, stabbed, punched, slapped and wracked too." There was a moment of silence. Yasmin had her own war story that was well known. "I've seen him naked," Yasmin's smile cut through the tension. "He has the scars to prove it." "You peeked when we were changing?" I gasped. I wasn't really all that surprised. "Yes," she snickered. "They only have Women's changing rooms where Cáel works," she related to the other ladies. The conversation may have flipped back to Portuguese yet the words were definitely descriptive. Either that, or my penis had slipped passed my zipper and the buttons on my shirt had burst off exposing my broad chest and rock hard abs. Yasmin looked at me and said, "É o meu P.A." The girls all laughed. "Anyone going to clue me in on the joke?" I requested. By mutual consensus, they agreed not to; bitches. For a while, this man had been yelling from the kitchen. If finally dawned on me, and our waitress, the cook had been calling her to pick up her orders. I could have ignored her short denim skirt and seductive sway of the hips, but that would have been disingenuous. Besides, in some cultures, if your 'man' wasn't noticing the women around you, he was somewhat less of a man. I unleashed my inner 'machismo' and oinked. Yasmin shoved me while laughing. The other women found my being distracted amusing as well. I could really get used to Brazilian culture especially when that included Brazilian women. After lunch, we picked up Buffy on the way out. Buffy 'thanked' Yasmin; in Portuguese. Mother-fucker. That was so unfair. Never one to miss an opportunity to make a bad situation better; or worse, I asked Buffy what 'É o meu P.A.' meant. Buffy said something to Yasmin in Portuguese. Yasmin responded. They both laughed; bitches. "It is a term of endearment," Buffy assured me. Sure it was. That is why neither one would tell me what it meant; I repeat yet again; bitches. [FYI: 'É o meu P.A.' (P.A. stands for Pinto Amigo) literally means 'my friend Penis (or) my penis friend'. In Brazilian Portuguese slang (many thanks to a buddy from Portugal who saved me from a grievous linguistic error) this is a term of sexual endearment indicating trust and a sexual history, but don't tell Cáel that.] Yasmin and I walked a ways before she had to head in a different direction. We kissed. I kept my hands firmly on her hips like a good boy. She put her hand down my pants and stroked my cock for about a minute, in public. "Next time, I think we have sex," Yasmin winked before departing. I watched her walk away until she vanished in the crowd. She didn't look back. She was far too confident. "Well, she seems nice," Buffy caught me off-guard. She'd snuck up while I was watching Yasmin and she was still being so horribly friendly to me. Best of all, she assured me she'd be back to her normally aggressive self-come Monday morning; right about the time I finally got used to her being nice to me. "Yeah; she is," I sighed. "What's wrong?" Buffy inquired compassionately. "What do you mean?" I stared evenly at Buffy. "Hanging out with me could get her killed, that's what's wrong." "That's not likely to happen," Buffy to reassure me. I shook my head. "I'd ask you if you were nuts, but I know you are nuts," I grunted. "Elsa wouldn't kill you yet she'd kill Yasmin and her son without batting an eye if she felt a severe lesson was in order. Buffy, you work for animals. We both do. The difference being that you are one." "I don't think you appreciate how popular you are with the company," Buffy insisted. "You've worked really hard to impress them and they value your efforts." I screamed to the Heavens. Elsewhere, I would have drawn some serious looks. In NYC, I barely drew any notice. "Yeah; great. Remind me to clap like a pet seal Monday morning. Buffy, you, Katrina and a few others are grinning, thinking you've made great strides on this New Directive and the crime for a security guard shooting me as I walk in the office every day is the same; a transfer to someplace less pleasant. Correct me if I'm wrong," I laid into her. "The difference is that they don't want to shoot you," Buffy countered. "Wow, if you put 'you-Buffy' in place of 'you-Cáel' you will realize how inconsequential that is," I informed her. "I'm a human being; unless I'm in Havenstone. Inside, my well-being is based solely on your sufferance; just like a test monkey." "If you really empathized, you would realize the only other people that walk around think 'gosh, I shouldn't murder that person today' are serial killers. Yet you expect me to be thankful for tap dancing faster than you shoot at my feet. You have this happy dream that I've accomplished anything," I shook my head. "In 71 days one of you is going to kill me; that is the reality I'm staring down," I gazed at her. "Why do you think we'll turn on you then?" Buffy actually appeared upset. "Havenstone has been letting me play with this '84 Day' fiction because it amuses all of you," I took a deep breath. "Whatever I can do in the last 71 days of my life probably won't matter." "You've made a difference with Aya and Oneida," Buffy rallied. "Great, I saved the life of someone who would stab me in the heart if I slapped her," I countered. "As for Aya; I dread to think what she will go through when she figures out you've put me down like a rabid dog. I help her because I have to try, because the rest of you have written her off." We walked the rest of the way to the apartment in silence. "Katrina is not going to like the results of our little chat," Buffy mumbled. I laughed. "Buffy, she knows. When the time comes she's sending Elsa to take me alive. I don't know how I'm going to beat her. It is one of the thousand, or so, things I'm working on," I chuckled. "I know Katrina better than you do," Buffy rolled her eyes. "I think you under-estimate her affection for you." "I don't doubt her affection for me," I told Buffy. "I simply deem it to be valueless. Listen, it took me ten seconds to figure out what Aya needed at the Archery range." "Not a God-damn person who knew her their entire lives would have ever done what I did," I continued. "It wasn't that they didn't understand what needed to be done; show a little faith in her. It was that none of them would have ever had the humanity to do it. Katrina could think the Sun rises and sets on me. It doesn't change a damn thing that happens in 71days." I neglected to say that Katrina murdered/dueled her own grandmother to bring Desiree into the Epona fold. That was the head of her household. I wasn't an Amazon, or even a woman. Buffy was making shit up to keep the insanity of her life at bay. Oh, she'd kill me if Katrina gave the order. She'd hate herself for it. That wouldn't do me a damn bit of good though. (Saturday Afternoon and then some) Our conversation died for two reasons as I led the way into my apartment. First off, it was Havenstone business and neither one of us was foolish enough to talk about it in front of Timothy and Odette. The other reason would have been Brooke and Libra sitting on Timothy's sofa. Those two stood up as we entered. "Hi;” I got to say. "We just came around to tell you that you are an;” Libra spat but then, "Which one is this?" "You could have called first," I snapped back. I reached for my phone; which wasn't there. Odette sheepishly lifted my phone up from her side. I imagine that bitch had been ringing off the hook since my departure. There was a major bitch-fest coming down the pipeline. I wasn't going to let that happen. There is an advantage to people having a low opinion of you. It gives you the unspoken permission to act like a crass asshole whenever you feel like it. "This lady is Buffy Dubois and she's my bodyguard for the weekend," I tried to sound bored. "Listen, the restaurant we went to was long on sizzling hot food and short on ceiling fans, so I'm going to take a shower," I callously stated. "Brooke, want to join me?" No, Brooke didn't want to join me. She wanted to rip my hair out in large, painful clumps. She was the Princess and I was the bottom feeder with dirt under my fingernails (huge salary be damned). "No, I don't want to shower with you, you Jerk!" Brooke snarled. Sadly, now I was making poor use of my loyal Odette. Such is life. "We only stayed long enough to give you a piece of our minds." "I'll come with you!" Odette peeped. She had been on the floor, back to the small space of wall between the workout alcove and the door to my bedroom. Timothy was leaning on the portion of the living room wall next to the short hall that led to the bathroom and his bedroom. He seemed more and more amused as the encountered unfolded. "No," Brooke squalled. "I'm not done with him yet." She followed me to the bathroom. Now normally, I would get a towel from the bathroom, go to my bedroom to strip down then return to the bathroom for a shower, or soak in the tub. This time I went straight to the bathroom. Brooke had built up a good head of steam, I slammed the door shut the second she came in. She was about to unload some truly spectacular vitriol on me. That wasn't the game plan. I shoved Brooke into the door and pressed my lips against hers, conveying my deep desire for her and dowsing her rage. "No, you don't;” she got out. Game plan. "God Brooke, I've been worried sick about you. Have you been holding up okay?" I turned on the concern. This is what she wanted to hear. I wasn't indifferent to her emotional state. In fact, I was so wrapped up in her Brooke's turmoil I was nearly paralyzed into inactivity. These are the words that Brooke wanted. What mattered to Brooke most was Brooke, followed up by how much Brooke mattered to other people. "I; ah," she mumbled before we kissed once more. This time she was hungry and passionate. She had reaffirmed that I was in her 'corner'. Now she could get down to the real reason she'd shown up to a place where some middle class guy who didn't return her phone calls lived; sex. "Work's been a mess since Trent jumped ship and took that promotion," I grumbled, still focused on giving Brooke oral stimulation. "The important thing is how have you been recovering? How have you been coming along?" Seduction is multi-layered. Know your partner; not just their erogenous zones, but their likes, dislikes, mindset and goals. Thus I used words like 'Trent jumped ship' and 'promotion' to fixate Brooke's anger on Trent, not me. He deserved it. Also, I used 'recovering' and 'coming along' to insinuate that Brooke; strong Brooke; was getting through this trauma all on her own, so now she could let me help her and not be in a weak, desperate position. All that led up to Brooke justifying to herself that she could let me ravish her in the shower without her looking like some insecure, post-breakup slut. The first words that came to mind were 'Pound Puppy' though 'Pound Kitty' was more apropos. I was nice, tender, gentle and loving as I drew her into the tub with the shower on. She cuddled against my chest, got off a few tears; mainly for my benefit to express how much she still needed comforting. Then I began tearing her up. I went VOA this time out; vaginal, oral, anal; and she had no doubt that I was Fucking her, capital 'F'. She was no Chalmers' girl, but she certainly spared no expense on the screams, howls and caterwauls as I ripped piece after sensual piece off of her; body and soul. Thankfully I keep six condoms beneath the shampoo dispenser. It is indicative of the state of disrepair of our apartment building that the water heater didn't exhaust the water supply and turn cold; it turned lukewarm. More screwing for Brooke and me. When she finally came crashing down from her trash pile of depression, self-doubt and rage over a world that had suddenly stopped making sense, I cut off the water, held her tight, and exited us from the tub. Both being players, Timothy and I had stocked up on nice, plush terry-cloth towels. Nothing builds up a mood for a repeat performance like drying off in a really comfy towel, or kills it faster than being wrapped up in some rag. I partially dried off Brooke because she was still craving close, romantic contact. Again, the most important person in the room was Brooke, and by attending to her, I was reinforcing that. I even stopped what I was doing to watch her put her underwear, socks then pants back on. She loved it. Then Brooke began looking around the small space for her bra. I had been hiding it behind my back. I revealed it, avoided having her swipe it back then used one finger to beckon her forward. Her resistance was enough to assert her independence, but not enough to dampen the sensuous course of events. She stepped forward, I tapped my lips indicating she had to kiss me to get back her undergarment. Brooke faux-resisted then kissed me. Then she French kissed me. I gave her bra back, still she pushed her body against mine, kissing away. She gave up the oral gratification when she wanted to give it up. She was the one in command, she asserted that by giving me what I wanted, so I was okay with things. She kept radiating her confidence as I kept very still, looking her over as she finished putting on her clothes. I cannot stress this enough: give the girl what she wants. There was absolutely no difference between lashing Rhada, instructing Odette in sensuality, finger fucking Elsa, upping my game to the highest levels with Buffy and going at Brooke in a romantic-aggressive style. Oh yeah, it is rarely productive to actually ask a girl what she wants. Most of the time they want to please you, so they'll lie. Lie better than they do and read what their body likes. Go from there. That was another gift from my mentor. When she was teaching me ancient love poetry, literature and culture, she was doing more than that. She was teaching me how to read women, get inside their minds and make them happy with things they may not even acknowledged they liked. God, I miss her. We/she decided that graduation was the end of the road for our romantic journey. She'd find another young man in need and start over. I would go out in the world and spread the passion and love, my fidelity failings be damned. Libra wasn't far from being a happy camper when Brooke and I came back out of the bathroom, one arm around Brooke's waist, the other holding my clothes and me in a towel. "Woot!" Odette, sitting on the floor once more, fist-pumped. "You knocked it right out of the ballpark." Brooke glared. Libra scowled. Odette basked in the knowledge that she was on the 'inside' of my little world now. She didn't have to play games. If she wanted to hang out, or have sex, she could come on over and I'd do my best to accommodate her. Odette had gone from hook-up, to fuck-buddy, to friend. She was still a girl around me with all the resulting pitfalls. That wasn't going to go away. What she had decided was that she was getting to hang out with cool, adult people. Dating in high school had never been difficult yet in the transition to adulthood, she'd be caught in a state of limbo. One night she met this young, dark stranger and she'd decided to take a chance. Now she had a big, musclebound gay sofa-buddy who was a relatively famous tattoo artist, a woman bed companion who apparently kicked ass for a secret society of some kind (Odette wasn't stupid) and that gorgeous, dark stranger to make love to her, to cuddle with and to wake up next to. I'd even kissed her before I raced off to work. I never kicked her out once I was 'finished' with her. We hung out, watched movies and talked about adult stuff. Timothy had offered to take her to a gay club; even a gay strip club. She couldn't wait. Odette wanted the three of us; she liked the idea of being a trio; going clubbing. Sure, she'd be sponging off me, but Timothy said I wouldn't mind. Timothy even insisted that we both really liked her. He also told Odette that 'with all the wacky bitches in his life, he needs you'. Before this, Odette had always thought of one boy-one girl. After a few days with me, monogamy flew out the window and she honestly couldn't recall why she'd been so hung up on it. I gave Brooke another steamy kiss, before heading to my bedroom. I bent over Odette, stroked her cheek as she looked up and smiled at me, and met her lips in a tender, caring moment. Yes, she knew she was special to me. Libra was ready to bifurcate me; verbally. Blood is so difficult to get out of clothes. Why was I going to get away with this? I banged the Trent out of Brooke; again. She could assume I was either ignoring her; Heaven forbid; or I was working up to her; a far more appealing illusion. I nearly closed my door. I wanted to hear what was going on. "Let's go," Libra groused. "Why don't we see if he wants to go out to eat?" Brooke suggested, ignoring Buffy, Odette and Timothy. "We had Brazilian for lunch," Buffy calmly informed them. It was mid-afternoon. "Oh, how was Yasmin?" Odette inquired in a friendly manner. "Are you his social director?" Libra sneered. "Oh no," Odette chattered back. "Cáel Nyilas and I are buddies. We have a lot of sex, but mainly I hang around for the meals and company." "Is he fucking you too?" Libra snapped. "Yes," Buffy sighed happily. "Yes he is. It is only for this weekend. After that, I have to wait for the end of his internship." "Damn," Libra seethed, "Is he fucking you as well?" "No," Timothy said regretfully. "Cáel isn't even bi-curious, despite my dreams and fantasies." "I guess that's something," Libra grumbled. Right then I stepped out, looking all male-scrumptious. For guys, imagine a D-Cup tanned blonde, in a midriff exposing damp, white t-shirt, no bra, and red bikini bottoms. This is pretty much how most women demean me in their libido clouded minds. I've never actually felt demeaned by this. I mean, if the opposite sex finds me sexy, do I really care if that's going to be the limit of them getting to know me? I think not. By the way, for all you curvaceous blondes out there who gripe and groan about men only seeing you as sex objects; really? That bothers you? Do this; tease them the say 'now sit there and listen to what I have to say, or no nookie for you'. Talk away. Will they understand you? No, but then very few of us understand Stephen Hawking either. Consider yourself in a select group that includes the smartest human on the planet. That guy/girl on their knees before you pleading for intimate contact? They will agree with you in a heartbeat. Congrats; you are a genius. I also don't mind. If women stopped wanting sex, I doubt my life would not be worth living. Less I be allowed to savor a victory, there was a knock at the door. I headed that way. "Oh yeah; Cáel," Timothy called out. "Nikita called and said she was going to stop by." And here I was with two sexually dressed (it was hard for Libra and Brooke to not look sexy) hotties, plus Odette and a Havenstone Stormtrooper in my crib. Had I whispered for Odette to go hide in Timothy's room, she would have hopped to it. Had I fell on my knees, begged, pleaded and was shown to be speaking the Words of God, Libra and Brooke wouldn't have moved an inch. Fortunately (?) this happens to me a great deal. "Hey Nikita," I gave her a sleepy smile. I started to usher in my policewoman/somewhat-girlfriend. Yes, I was acting like nothing was going on, much less like I'd done something wrong. I was aided in this by the fact that the sex had all been shower-based, thus not odiferous. This wasn't a great plan, or even a good plan. It was a weak plan, in fact; rather desperate and last ditch. "Hi," Nikita scanned the room. "Who is this bimbo?" Libra insulted both Nikita and me. "New York City Policewoman Nikita Kutuzov," Niki snapped back. "Who the fuck are you?" "That's Libra Chalmers," Odette spoke up when the two girls wouldn't. "Her sister and Cáel Nyilas were friends at college." "The raven-haired woman is Brooke Lee and her boyfriend was a total douche and made work difficult for Cáel Nyilas and life horrible for her," Odette finished. That was so sweet of her; it was almost 'me'-like. "Are either of you Havenstone?" Niki studied them. "That would be me," Buffy spoke up. Since she wasn't dressed like a desperate cry for sex (like the other three women), Nikita hadn't truly soaked her in yet. For starters, Buffy was clearly older than the rest. "Do you have any weapons on you?" Niki glared. "Yes; do you want to see my Concealed Weapon permits?" Buffy remained serene. "Nice and slow," Niki told Buffy as her hand came to rest on the grip of her 9 mm. Nikita was off-duty so this was an awkward situation. "You have girlfriends with guns?" Brooke gasped. She seemed excited. Libra was uncertain. Nikita being Nikita, she took Buffy's word for nothing, using her cellphone to call in and check the three permits; gun, knife, knife. She wanted to card everybody, but I nixed that. These were my house guests. I put my foot down. Niki became truly angry with me. "I need to talk to you; outside," Nikita insisted. I didn't hesitate to go with her. By outside, she meant to her car because she was sure my place was under surveillance. She was most likely right. As soon as I put my ass on the passenger seat, Nikita wrapped me in a smothering embrace. "I've been so worried about you," she sniffled. No, Nikita wasn't brain damaged, or forgiving. She knew that if I hadn't already had sex with some, if not all, of the four women in my place, I most likely would in the next 36 hours. Don't forget that she knew I was a philanderer, had come to grips with that, and was beginning to count up my allowed indiscretions before she finally gave up on my worthless ass. "You shouldn't do that, Nikita," I hugged her tightly to me. "You have a freaking dangerous job and I'm a big boy. I'll deal with my work problems. You deal with yours and we take what time together as we can." "This is not how the World is supposed to work," she mumbled. "There are two ways of looking at it, Nikita," I stroked her hair. "Peace is merely the interruption of the otherwise endless cycle violence, or life is a constant struggle to avoid the inevitable slide into anarchy." "For such a loving, joyous man, you have a terribly dark side to you," Nikita looked into my eyes. "I read this in a book on the philosophy of social collapse; Imagine that last legionnaire standing atop Hadrian's Wall, his companions ready to march away yet knowing the Picts remained just out of sight, waiting for the last guardians to depart," I recalled. "Did he contemplate that, despite generations of sacrifice, nothing had change, or did he realize that, with their lives, those fellow soldiers bought centuries of peace to an otherwise war-torn land?" "Nikita, no victory is permanent," I explained. "One day the lights will go out in this city and never come back on. One day everything you've worked for will fall. That doesn't mean what you are doing doesn't have value, or that I don't appreciate what you do. Every life you save is still precious; it is invaluable to that person, if no one else." "Every day you take up the badge and gun means hundreds of others get to live their lives wrapped up in the illusion they live in a lawful society," I said. "I say 'illusion' because people tend to not understand that nothing lawful is permanent. They don't understand that one day that last legionnaire will be looking out over their neighborhoods. It is inevitable." "Is that why you don't give a crap about any of your relationships; is this the excuse that you use to cheat; that nothing is ever permanent?" Nikita's gaze hardened. "Remind me to never be honest with you again," I opened the door. Yeah, I was pissed. I'd broken my rule; lie to make the girl happy; and this is what it got me. "Damn it," Nikita yanked on my arm, not letting me leave, "Cáel Nyilas, what am I supposed to think after you tell me that?" I hesitated. I hated honesty. "I don't give a crap about some nebulous, transitory victory, Nikita," I kept looking away. "I don't see monogamy as pointless any more than I feel law enforcement as pointless." "That doesn't mean I want to be a cop, or in only one relationship. My Dad loved my Mom. He never dated after she died. He loved me and raised me the best he could. That is one of the best examples of monogamy I've ever witnessed. It simply isn't me," I told her. "Of greater relevance is my initial comment about the value of victory." "You think you can 'fix' my situation; that somehow the rule of law can apply to people who live outside of it," I turned around. "That isn't happening. You are more likely to convict every banker that had a hand in the 2008 housing loan collapse than you are to ever bring a single senior Havenstone employee up on any charges." "It is wrong," Nikita insisted. "I'm not being naive. No criminal conspiracy is ever impenetrable." "They are not a criminal conspiracy," I sighed. "They are a nation-state without demarcated borders. Criminals are fixated on making money." "Havenstone uses money as part of their arsenal to get what they want," I said. "What is that?" Nikita. "I'll never tell you," I put our faces within millimeter of each other. "Cáel, I want to help you," Nikita persisted. "You can't, Nikita," I stared. "Rome calls and you will obey. It is who you are. It is what I like about you. It also means you won't break the law for me, which means, in the terms of rescue, you are useless to me as anything except a friend. Personally, I suggest you appreciate the next 70 days with me, then find someone who will take care of you, marry them and raise the next generation of policemen and women." "Are you a police officer?" she altered her approach. "No," I played along. "Then don't assume you know what I can and can't accomplish," Nikita grew fierce. "Al-Qaeda thought they were untouchable too. As did the KKK and the Mafia." "Right, Nikita, except there are still terrorists, violent racists and organized crime; different faces but the same hydra," I relayed. "That is what I'm trying to tell you; these ladies are not conventional criminals. They are not going to flip on each other. They aren't afraid of drone attacks, wiretaps, or video surveillance." "If the Justice Department goes after them, they'll strike back. Don't think assassinations and bombings; think 'Tail-hook' and 'Fast and Furious'. The problem is they already know what rules you play by and how law enforcement works. You won't be able to get your side to understand how Havenstone works until it is too late," I stressed. "Your side? We are your side, Cáel Nyilas," Nikita insisted. "No, you are not," I responded. "My side wants to deal with this himself, only risking his life and earnestly not wanting to have my actions resulting in hundreds, if not thousands, of deaths. Your gang wants to enforce the law and turn this problem into a nice, tidy bundle. Making twenty arrests and confiscating a few million in assets will not make Havenstone go away." "They will fade back into the shadows and then wreck vengeance upon you all when it is convenient for them," I stated confidently. I had sat in on exactly one board meeting. That had been enough of an education to figure out how they operated and how long-term their planning was. They wouldn't put a bullet into the head of the lead investigator. No, fifteen years later, while having a routine medical procedure, there would be a mix-up with his medication and he'd die. A few months later, his son, that man's wife and two children would all be involved in a fatal car accident. Yes, they wiped out your family. My bet was they had already done something like that. They'd find a weak link in the investigative team, show him/her the evidence of past misdeeds and impress upon them that they would be next. Witness Protection? Over a twenty year old string of accidents? The fed either played ball, or waited a decade, or two, for their loved ones to start dropping. Havenstone Commercial Investments was only 22 years old. Without a doubt, there had been other incarnations built up then discarded only for some new front to take its place. As for grudges; the Amazons took it as a personal affront that an independent Hellas existed today, despite the reality that those Greeks had little lineage in common with the Greeks from the time of Achilles. The conundrum was I couldn't use the word 'Amazons', or refer to the board meeting. I couldn't talk about the armory, Buffy, or Desiree's backgrounds, or truly impress upon Nikita the absolute level of fanaticism Havenstone engendered in their congregation. If I hinted at it, she'd think of Jonestown, not the Karen Insurgency in Burma. "Why do you have such faith in them, but not in your own law enforcement?" Nikita pleaded. "Training, fanaticism, the ability to act with few restrictions, and their willingness to let a member who makes a mistake to live and learn from it instead of being sacrificed for political and popular expediency," I counted off my points. "They prepare for war, not peacekeeping," I clarified. "By that, I mean that each standard office worker is the equivalent of a soldier in any fully modern armed force. For whatever cause you and your fellow NYPD believe in, there is also a long history of corruption. There is none of that at Havenstone. Infighting; yes. They would never betray the principles of their organization though." "You work under the scrutiny of the judicial system, a normally hostile press and a special panel whose sole duty is to keep your law enforcers in line. They work for superiors who give them far more latitude," I continued. "A Havenstone breaks an external law, the get assigned elsewhere. Violating their internal code of conduct is harsh and immediate then resolved." "You screw up, and you are pilloried in the press, abandoned by your superiors and shunned by your peers as if you had a contagion," I sighed. "The NYPD loses you as a resource because of one mistake. Despite the numerous advantaged of living in a Democratic Republic and a capitalist economy, the underlying weaknesses remain." "People are people, thus flawed. Office-seekers need money and to be scandal-free to get elected which has become a continuous process," I stated. "Those realities allow entities like Havenstone to exist in a parasitic relationship with our society. Face it, why pay $100 million in fines, duties and taxes when you can pay $1 million in campaign contributions." "You are so damn cynical," Nikita frowned. "Nikita," I huffed. "No, I'm not cynical. I'm a romantic realist. I know the score. Despite that, I still chose to make my own way in the world. I don't date a woman expecting a 'Happily Ever After'. I also never make a plan to leave a lady. It happens regularly enough and it is my fault most often, yet it has never been my intention to avoid permanence." "I don't understand you at all!" she yelled. This was expected. This was her prodding me into having some frenzied, 'make me forget about the cruelty of the World' sex. "Nikita, if I did chose to break the law, I wouldn't be caught because there is some cop out there better than me. If I was caught, it would be that the cops have tons more resources than I possess," I explained. "I'm not even criminally inclined and I can beat the system. This doesn't mean I plan to break the law. I have no reason to. In the same way, I won't surrender because I don't have to. I'm still alive and have a degree of freedom," I told her. "It is because I know the score that I can fight with hope. I have spent the last four years not living the easy life; the safe life." "I have the scars to prove it, along with no regrets, because I am me; the man I want to be," I smiled. "So what that I work for killers; they are hot and most of them are willing. The unwilling ones I'll bring around eventually; I always do." Now she wanted to pepper spray, Taser, baton beat and pistol whip me; all at the same time. Sex. "I keep asking myself why I care about you," Nikita wailed. "I don't even know why I came over today. I should have known you would have at least one woman in your apartment. I could have waited for you to return a single damn phone call; but No, I had to drive over and have you stomp on my heart instead." "I don't know how to reply to that," I mused. I did, but drawing it out was important. "My life is a nightmare. It will most likely end in tragedy. If I loved you, I would send you away in a loud, vocal breakup that would convince Havenstone we were done and that would be that. My problem is I like; I selfishly want to know you better and I resonate with you like no other." When you are the bad guy and she knows you are the bad guy, play the bad guy. See, if I was a good guy, I would sacrifice of myself and send her away. Instead, I was 'selfish' and I was selfish because we 'resonated'. Resonate is a good, romantic word. Its definition is a bit shady, thus she can interpret it the way she desires. Before you hate me more than you already do, please recall that I really liked Nikita. She was special to me. Unfortunately, 'special' has sort of a nebulous meaning for me. To put that in perspective, my heart is a five year old child in a toy story. It goes 'get that one, get that one' without explaining to me exactly why I end up doing what I do. "I want you so much," she groused, hating herself for her naked desire. "Let's go back to my place and make love," I suggested. She jerked slightly. "What about all those other women?" she questioned. "Odette is a dear friend, Buffy is my bodyguard and the other two showed up all on their own," I informed her. "I like Libra and Brooke well enough, but the attraction is purely sexual (it better damn be all it is). I hope we have something more," I said. I could even make honesty my bitch, it seemed. "Fine. Let's go before I regain my sanity," Nikita declared. It doesn't take a NASA mission control officer to know that really means 'fuck me now; I've soaked my panties'. Nikita was hopping up and down on the balls of her feet by the time we exited her car and made it around to her/street side. She grabbed my hand and yanked my unresisting form hurriedly back to my apartment. We nearly crashed into Buffy who had been watching from the door. Nikita flashed an embarrassed look. That didn't stop her from bounding up the stairs three at a time as we raced up to my place. Nikita was slowing down on the final approach only to have Odette open the door and stand aside; Buffy had phoned her. In we swept. Libra and Brooke rose from the sofa, I gave them an apologetic look before Nikita drew me into the bedroom. I slammed the door shut. "What the Hell!" Libra screamed. What can I say? When I truly set out to fuck a girl, I leave them wanting more. Before you think I'm an egotist, or a Sex God, it is they want to have sex with me, not that they care about what I want. I've been jumped while putting gas in a friend's car by a girl, whose name I couldn't recall at the moment, who I had banged in a bar's men's room. Midway through that encounter (we were standing up, my back against the car, and her legs spread up and wide as she coasted down from her first orgasm), she confided in me she'd been running around with a condom in her pocket in hopes of finding me; which proved she didn't really know me; I always have a condom. I even have some stashed in my bathroom  and  kitchen; just in case. After that, for the rest of my college career the Kwiki Mart attendant kept smirking at me; the gas pumps had video surveillance. My friend and his date were amused too. My date; less so. Maybe I should have stopped at the first orgasm. It turned out okay. See, unknown to anyone at the start, the girl's (Genevieve it turned out) boyfriend and I had been in a skiing accident and the poor bastard had suffered frostbite dragging me to safety, so I owed Genevieve big time. Yes, my date bought that hastily conjured excuse. All was right with the world and I ended up screwing my date that night and for the next two weeks. That relationship fell apart when three different servers at a Hooters gave me lap dances (who knew; Hooters girls don't normally give lap dances). I swear to God I had never been there before; the truth didn't work that time either. That wasn't too bad. It reminded me of Genevieve. I went back to the bar and nailed her again. In case it matters, I don't have a fake ID. I lie to the DMV about where I live. It is all official-like, if completely illegal. Back to my current official; a rapid analysis of the kaleidoscope of emotions. Lust, fear and confusion battled for dominance. I had to take into account her sexual background, parenting, and personal let downs. I had to give her something she didn't want. No, I wasn't going against my tried and true strategy. I had to give Nikita something she didn't want yet really needed. She began trying to strip off her clothes. Off went her faded denim jacket (despite the heat in NYC in the early summer) then her short-sleeved shirt. Poor Nikita; her nice, gossamer white bra was obviously new; that crisp, pure white doesn't come from Tide, and she had marks from the first bra she'd put on today. Off went the gun; and the cuffs. I had kicked off my shoes and so quickly pulled down my pants it burned my skin. The policewoman was drinking up my Nikita-inspired arousal so I was able to strip off my shirt too. She began working down her pants and undies in one motion when I jumped her. "Hey wait," she giggled. She became a tad more annoyed when I wouldn't relent. With her pants and panties still above her knees, I slipped on a condom, rolled her over and began. "I don't want to do it this way," Nikita insisted angrily. "Let me up." "I can't wait," I grunted in my doggy-style. In I went. "Girr; Girr; ah," she finally gave into her arousal. "Ah; ah; aha." That brought me to a halt. I wove my arms around her waist and drew her back to my chest. "Are you ready to have sex because you want it instead of doing it because you don't know what else to do?" I whispered in her ear. She twisted her head around. Words failed her so we kissed. "Can I take my pants off now?" sighed happily. "I don't know. I kinda like you like this," I replied. "I can barely move," she protested. "That would be a point in my favor," I snickered. Nikita got back at me by wiggling in my lap. Yeah, that put me in my place alright. Changing our orientation was part of my instinctual reaction to her desire for a close visual connection. The whole face down/ass up was only a trick to erase her confusion. Keeping inside of Nikita, I twisted her around until she was on her back, her bound legs resting on my crooked right elbow. Curse me, Nikita looked up at me consumed by bliss. There is disappointment, settling for what you've got, getting what you want and finally, being giving something you never considered yet now you wonder how you lived so long without. This wasn't only a 'good dicking'. It was the revelation that my life was a total train wreck and for a crusader like Nikita, I was virtually the Holy Grail. I would never 'not be in trouble' thus constantly in need of saving. To her, I had transformed into the perfect boyfriend. I could never run away, or be saved by anyone else but her. Oh; and I was giving her a terribly good dicking. "Better?" I murmured. Nikita nodded. My rod kept up steady, moderately powerful penetrations. "Is there anything I can do to make it better?" Trick question. "No," she purred. "I like; this is wonderful; I thought you would be different." She was one happy camper. She had anticipated a domination play. "I'd only be rough with you if that's what you wanted," I pressed her legs farther down so that are faces were very close. "Mmm; are you ever going to stop seeing those other girls?" she poised. She was no longer angry. Perfect boyfriend plus fantastic intercourse. I'm always doing stuff that makes women act in bizarre and unexpected (to them) ways. Won't ever do anal? You'll be ambushing me in the tub and working that ass down my pole inside of two weeks. Trust me. Odette hooking up with Buffy? Been down that road before. "I've only got 70 days left, Nikita," I groaned. "They are going to force me to put out at work." "I might as well try to make love to the women I care for," I told her. No, they weren't going to make me put out at work unless I made the full 84, or was relocated. Lie baby, lie. "I'll make sure you live more than those 70 days," Nikita passionately assured me. Now she was applying some pushbacks to meet my thrusts. "Why are you so nice to me?" I began taking deeper breaths. Please don't say 'I love you'. "No one should have to face your enemies alone," she gave up. Her left hand slithered down and began to tenderly work on her stiff button. I matched it, despite the somewhat awkward placement. My hand rested on hers, developing a synergy and allowing me to get a feel how she liked her clitoral stimulation. Nikita had barely started screeching out her climax when the door swung open. "You Bastard!" Libra screamed at me. To be that fast, she either teleported, or had been eavesdropping at the door. She stormed away, still yelling at the top of her lungs. It was times like this that Timothy appreciated what I told him when I first looked the place over. No locks on the interior doors? No problem. The women would cause less damage if all they had to do was break down the exterior door to get at me. He thought I was a joker. I am, but I wasn't joking about that. Kicking open a door is hard on the door sills. They are far more likely to give way then the door is to splinter, or the lock is to break. There have been a great many women who have busted through all kinds of portals to get at me with vengeance, pain and agony on their mind; my pain and agony if there was any doubt. "Ah, ah, ah; that was mind-blowing, Cáel," Nikita lilted. "Next time; " "Yes?" I soaked up her aroma. "Can we not make this a domestic disturbance case?" she giggled. "Is that an appeal for some real privacy, or stadium seating?" I teased. "You are a meanie!" she giggled gleefully. Who calls an adult a meanie? There was only one proper reaction to such a denigrating insult. I helped her take off the rest of her clothes and fucked Nikita two more times. Nikita and I were exhausted, our bodies intertwined, sweaty, and sated. Odette poked her head in. "Is it okay for us to join in yet?" Odette asked. "No," Nikita moaned. "Not yet," I corrected. I compensate having no control over my willy, by having limited control over every poon tang I interact with. I'm not sure how that works, but it does. Case in point: "I am not engaging in group sex, or sleeping with a girl," Nikita murmured. "Well, can they sleep in our bed tonight? They have nowhere else to go," I reasoned. "Um," she bit her lower lip. "Okay." Ta-da! I didn't argue with Nikita, or challenge/dare her. I said 'our bed' which put her, theoretically, on top of my female acquaintance hierarchy. Truth? Nah. I never had enough women hanging around together to ever have the time to figure that out. Nikita was going to be in bed with me and two other sexual active women. Buffy alone was a morality hazard. Odette was spunky. Nikita was armed with three relationships at best; her mom was a cop after all, so dating had to be fun before college. Finally, there was me; the lowest of the low. If cads had a shred of reverence, they worshipped an idol with my face on it. To my credit (don't laugh), I wasn't forcing Nikita to do anything, only making her do things she'd have never thought she'd do before she met me. We cleaned up then joined the others. The start was awkward. I changed the conversation to things girly: guns. I have a twisted life. Odette knew nothing; pure law-abiding citizen. I was an amateur gunslinger who picked up firearms to romance a girl, or three. Niki grew up around guns and the people who used them; the police. Her area of expertise was handguns and shotguns. She had little experience with rifles. Buffy had gotten a later start in life, but played 'radical catchup' since then. While not going into details, Buffy was very engaging. Timothy had no formal training yet had somehow managed to acquire a familiarity over his misspent life. He had even been paid in an AR-14 once. He had, of course, turned it over to the cops; but couldn't remember which cop, or precinct, when prodded by Nikita. We broke for Korean takeout. There was a problem with the order. Niki, Buffy, and I prepared to head out when Timothy developed a situation in the bathroom. Us guys tried to handle it. We were hopeless. Finally, Nikita intervened and shooed us out to the living room. Timothy 'found' some tools and gave them to Buffy to give to Nikita. Us guys had been exiled, after all. The second Buffy went into the bathroom, I slipped out the door quietly. Odette gave me a 'thumbs up' then snuck off to my bedroom. Bedroom noises commenced. The take-out issue was that my cute Korean delivery babe was missing me. Despite the plethora of sex coming my way, I discovered I missed her too. Later. "Do you find it amusing to not trust us in the least?" Nikita stared at me. I would have felt better if Timothy wasn't bound up with extension cords and his mouth covered with duct tape and trussed up on the floor. Odette was cowering in the far corner of the sofa. "I apologize," I extended my armload of food. "Old habits die hard." "You hurt our feelings," Buffy frowned. Still freaked out by that. Why wasn't someone hitting me? Seriously, there are tons of throw-able things in the apartment plus they both had guns. "If I sneak out, you two don't have to deal with the conflict of me wanting sex with different women," I pleaded. "This has nothing to do with how fantastic the sex with all of you is. It is that I'm so used to disappointing women then running for my life, the option of gaining anything approaching permission isn't something I know how to handle," I explained. "What makes you think we'd ever give you permission to cheat?" Buffy smirked. Ah, the joys of a blossoming four-way. Nikita? Not going to sleep with another woman? Hell, three hours in and she was already dividing up my sex-time with my other bed-buddies. My only worry was Niki would retell this to her Mom, the Police Desk Sergeant. I wasn't worried she'd hurt me. I was worried 'Mom' would toss me in jail. I'm a very pretty man and I doubt I'd do well in an all-male environment. Sure, there would be female corrections officers. That's not a good thing. I'm incredibly horny and I could see 'don't ask, don't talk back' in my future. "Listen, both of you," I got feisty. "If I want this level of aggravation, I'll go back to work and slap Elsa." "Also, why is Odette cowering on the sofa? She didn't do anything wrong," I declared. "She went into your bedroom, shut your door, and made all kinds of sexy noises. It took us ten minutes to realize we weren't hearing you,"

Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..

Liebe Hörer:innen! Achtung, Achtung: Das ist keine Übung. This is it, Tracks'n'Topics macht eine Pause. Wie lange diese Pause dauern wird, wann und wenn ja, wie wir wieder zurückkommen, wissen wir noch nicht. Aber seid euch gewiss, ihr werdet es mitbekommen, wenn es so weit ist.

Mom's Hot Friend, Rachel Beautiful mature woman Joins Our Family Vacation on the beach. By Stonemarten. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. At the time of this story, I was about 30 years old and still near the peak of my virility; I had recently broken-up from a long-term relationship and feeling a little bruised by the experience, though I never felt lonely, as I've always had good mates around me, both male and female. My mum used to take short holidays out-of-season at a quiet beach resort in Spain and as my dad was constantly working, she often used to share her apartment with AuntyRachel. Rachel wasn't really my Aunty, but a very close friend of my mother's youth. I was told she was very close to us when I was a baby, and that's when she accepted the honorary title of Aunty, by my parents.  She'd married and moved away, but a couple years ago she was divorced. She never had children, so she renewed her connection with mum and the nickname "Aunty" seemed about right. Mum and Aunty were always very close, but I had almost no familiarity with her. She was a fine looking, mature woman in her late fifties and kept very fit and healthy for her age. She had mid-brown hair, which lightened a little in the sun and slight crows-feet around the eyes, for she was always sunning herself, giving her a lovely overall tan. Rachel was not slim, not fat, but curvaceous, with large boobs (I'd say D Cup) and a flattish tummy, a good sized bum with only a hint of cellulite; she went to the gym regularly and was in good shape for her age. Because mum knew I was a little down in the dumps, she asked whether I wished to join her and Rachel for a few days relaxing in the sunshine, eating some healthy Mediterranean food and swimming in the warm sea; not a regular prospect for me when living in Scotland! Up to then, I hadn't spent much time with Rachel, as I lived a long way from my parents since leaving for uni. My folks lived in the South of England. When I had met ‘Aunty' while visiting my folks, she had always seemed very vivacious and friendly and I did like the look of her, having a bit of a penchant for mature women. Their little Riviera apartment was on the first floor of a well-kept, but almost deserted block, quite up-market, as the unit had three large bedrooms all on-suite. We each had our own room and space, a cozy arrangement, where we could come and go doing our own thing. My mum, who was a bit of an amateur artist, was off painting really good watercolor paintings; Rachel liked to read books and generally relax in the sunshine, whilst I went off early morning nature and bird-watching, which has always been my special thing (love-making excluded). A Stroll On The Beach Late one afternoon, mum was due to drive to a local beauty spot to paint a sunset and suggested that Rachel and I should perhaps go for a wander along the beach, as the weather was lovely. Just then Rachel strolled into the living room in a skimpy bikini, revealing her lush cleavage and deeply tanned body. How could I say ‘no'? We set out together heading westwards along the wide sandy beach, which was almost deserted, except for the odd dog walker. Rachel was dressed in a yellow and white striped bikini with her bottom half wrapped in a light blue sarong. I was wearing t-shirt and swimming shorts. We walked slowly besides each other chatting away warmed by the sun. At one stage, Rachel took my hand and so we strolled hand-in-hand like a couple, but this wasn't a surprise to me as she was naturally an affectionate person. She took genuine interest in my life and preferences, even asking about my sex life and preferences? She treated me as a peer, not as a nephew. When I told her my recent relationship lacked any variety, she gasped; “She wouldn't even let you eat her?” Did she blow you? “No, and no.” I said. It was getting hot, so Rachel undid her sarong, so looking down at her bottom, I thought I'd compliment her by saying: "wow, even your ass is tanned brown;" I said, while pulling down my own swim shorts at the back to show her my somewhat paler backside.  She smiled graciously at my compliment. "It's not just my ass that's brown" she said, reaching back to undo her bikini top and letting loose her large, tanned boobs. They were fully-bronzed indeed, sagging slightly of course, but otherwise perfect, with lovely dark brown nipples. "Take your shorts and t-shirt off" she said: "there's no-one around and you could do with getting some sun on your whiter bits". Amazingly, her confidence rubbed off on me and I took off my shirt and pulled my shorts off, becoming totally naked beside her. She put my garments in her beach bag, along with her sarong. My body was in good shape in those days though with a flat stomach and muscles defined from martial arts and the gym. How the hell did I muster up such confidence? So there we were, strolling along hand-in-hand with the only scrap of clothing between the two of us being Rachel's little bikini bottom. Rachel looked amazing and the sway of her hips as she moved caused a slight tumescence in my prick which she couldn't help but notice, as it swung a little from side to side. A couple moments later it was clubbing my thighs in a rhythm set by my walking pace.  All of a sudden, she dropped her hand from mine and reached over instead to grasp my swaying cock in her hand. “Your poor cock is getting knocked around. Such a shame to see such a beautiful phallus being treated so.” She said as she led me along at a slower pace. This pleasant surprise immediately had my cock swelling and hardened to a long, thick erection, which she began stroking up and down slowly, whilst sporting a wide smile and wicked glint in her eyes, "what a lovely big boy" she exclaimed. A little way ahead of us was a small break between the sand dunes and an amused Rachel led me towards this gap, pulling me behind her by the cock in a rather comical manner.  I said nothing but anticipated anything could happen next. When we were hidden from view, she released me and spread-out her sarong on the sand. She then took me by the cock and guided me down, kneeling next to where she stood, then pushing me down onto my back in front of her. Dropping onto her knees between my thighs, she leaned her head down towards my rampant cock and placed the engorged pink head into her luscious mouth. Grabbing the shaft and wanking it, she licked and sucked my cock head and down to my balls, causing me to moan and shudder with pleasure; Rachel also gave out little moans, clearly enjoying the effect on me. After a few exquisite minutes, Rachel stood-up and quickly shed her bikini bottoms, moving forward to straddle my firm manhood that she placed between her spreading thighs. Rubbing its head for a few seconds against her moist labia, she eased down slowly to accommodate the thick shaft. Rachel's moist cunt may not have been the tightest, but it was certainly the hottest and wettest I'd ever felt, it was amazing and she could firmly grip me tightly. It took all my will-power not to ejaculate into her right there and then. Fortuitously for my ego, it was this lovely older lady that came first, as even after the first couple of pumps, Rachel was contorting forward and whimpering loudly as she convulsed over and over in a massive orgasm, gushing juices and clamping onto my thick shaft. Rachel's soft, brown tits bounced up and down gloriously as she rode me, pumping up and down on my swollen cock, as we both moaned and groaned in unison. I reached-up to grab and squeeze them, flicking my thumbs over her erect nipples as I did so; within seconds this had the desired effect and Rachel spasmed and pitched with the second of her mighty orgasms, which seemed to go on and on, her face contorted and mouth wide open. After a minute or so of further humping, Rachel rose up a little and I pushed her gently sideways onto her back. Straddling between her wide open legs, my head descended towards her womanhood, my tongue lapping at her engorged lips and clitoris like a cat at the cream; a few seconds of this had Rachel bucking and cumming again, grasping her tits and nipples and arching her back; I carried-on licking for a good five minutes as she gasped and sighed. My rampant cock was straining to return to its hot, wet home, so I moved up and over Rachel, giving her breasts deserved attention with my gaping mouth, before kissing and snogging this beautiful Milf, with our nether organs rubbing against each other. We were so ready for the finale with my favorite love-making position, the missionary. Grabbing my cock by the shaft, I pushed up into her soaking cunt and then plunged with abandon into her lovely body. Over and over I thrust into her, bum bouncing up and down obscenely, cock rodding in and out like a lubricated piston. We were both groaning at the pleasure of it and the pressure was building and building in my sperm-laden balls. Soon I could take it no longer, the site of this beautiful older woman writhing beneath me and the rhythmic squeezing of her cunt on my cock made me explode - jets of warm semen shot from my balls in white spurts through my pulsing shaft, splashing into the intimate depths of the gorgeous Rachel, as she screamed in mutual orgasm at the prize she had won by servicing this rampant young male. After kissing, cuddling and cleaning ourselves up, we set-off back down the beach holding hands as the sun was setting behind us, a little sheepish, as we didn't want mum to find-out what we had done. What was certain though, was that there was no way my lovely mature Rachel would be escaping my lusty clutches at least once again before I left for the UK in a few days' time. Fun times in the shower with amazing older woman. Following our illicit encounter on the beach, I only had a couple of days remaining of my holiday in Spain and was desperate to get to grips with Aunty Rachel at least once more before I left. Mum seemed to notice a change of atmosphere between myself and Rachel on the occasions when the three of us were socialising together.. I never seemed to have a chance to be alone with her, as mum was always around, purposely or not. On the last day before I was due to fly back to the UK, I resigned myself to not having another sexy encounter with the gorgeous lady. After lunch together, mum took Rachel out shopping and I went to sunbathe on a lounger and swim in the pool. Later in the afternoon, I went to the apartment to have a shower and to wash off the chlorine. It was a good sized shower and the shower-head was one of those large modern ones that makes you feel like you're standing in a tropical rainstorm. Needless to say, a lot of steam rose-up which fogged-up the place. Soon I was aware that someone had entered the bathroom, but I couldn't see clearly through the steamed-up glass. A manicured hand slid open the glass door to reveal the fully nude, tanned glory of the lovely Rachel. She stepped into the shower and I pulled her gently towards my slippery body, as the warm water cascaded upon us. We immediately started to kiss passionately and my soapy hands stroked and fondled her wonderful curves. Hers in turn ran-up and down my firm, muscular frame. My cock was quickly at full mast, poking rudely against her belly. One of her hands reached down to grasp the thick shaft, wanking it back and forth, causing the bulbous head to roll-in and out of the foreskin; within seconds this had me moaning with pleasure. Her other hand began to cup and soap my sperm laden balls making pre-cum ooze as a result of her double attention. My hands were upon her large, soft boobs, fondling and gently tweaking the lovely brown nipples into rising peaks. I leaned my head down to suckle them, one and then the other. Moving my right hand down between her legs, I ran my fingers up and down her swollen labia and over her little love button, then into her warm, moist cunt. Rachel gasped, delightfully surprised at the expert fingering of such a fine young man. We carried-on frigging each other, our tongues entwining deliciously in the French manner, groaning and mewing. Rachel's mouth suddenly gaped wide in a high-pitched howl as the spasms of orgasm overwhelmed her, love-hole clamping in pulses on my fingers and soaking them with juices. I was sure our secret was now discovered. The whole building had to have heard Rachel's orgasm. She noticed my concern and simply said; “It'll take her at least another 30 minutes to get back here. When we left the shower, we were clean in one way for sure, but very dirty in another, as Rachel leaned over me to envelop my stiff cock in her mouth, sucking and butterfly licking its sensitive head. I grabbed a large bath towel and started drying-us down as Rachel's head bobbed back and forth. Discarding the towel, I followed Rachel into her bedroom admiring her curvy figure, fantastic for a woman now in her midlife. When she turned towards me, I pushed her backwards onto the bed, with my strong body on top of her, opening thighs wide and watching her soft tits bounce up and down. My cock found her cunt with impeccable aim and eased all the way into her warm moist sheath. Rachel may have been a mature woman, but she was a perfect fit for my youthful prick as I began to piston in and out of her. Smooth bronze legs curled around the back of my thighs, as I pumped over and over again to a chorus of: "oh baby, oh baby, oh baby!" With the feeling I was about to cum, I built-up the intensity of my thrusts, so that Rachel could sense it and her cries grew louder as she peaked towards her own climax. I was there and with a guttural growl, erupted, spunk shooting and coating her intimate place with torrents of warm white seed. As if on instinct, Rachel's cunt clenched in uncontrollable spasms as she wailed in the throes of her own orgasm. When mum arrived home sometime later, Rachel and I were in the kitchen drinking wine as if nothing had happened. A conspiratorial grin from Rachel was the only confirmation of our secretive passion. I flew out of Spain the next morning with a renewed sense of joy. I took the train from London to Edinburgh while having the distinct feeling that it wouldn't be long before I would partake again in the pleasures of Rachel, the gorgeous older woman. Lovely, mature Rachel heats-up my wee flat in Edinburgh. My heart raced a little faster when I saw the unmistakable, curvy figure of Aunty Rachel coming towards me down the platform of Waverley Station in Edinburgh. She looked as beautiful as ever as I gathered her up in my arms for a kiss. She was wearing a figure-hugging, light blue dress showing off her ample cleavage, underneath a short, pale yellow jacket and white scarf with blue polka dots. She was looking very summery with her tan, sun-lightened, brown hair and large round sunglasses. I grabbed her suitcase and held her hand as we headed-up onto Princes Street and then on to Rose Street to a pub for a drink, so she could relax after her long journey from the South of England The pub was very busy, so we sat cozily next to each other chatting, whilst I drank my pint of Belhaven Best and she sipped her gin and tonic. Her sweet perfume and the proximity of this luscious, mature woman had my cock swelling a little in my trousers, so I leaned over to kiss her full lips, as our thighs rubbed softly together and her hand gently stroked my knee. After a second round of drinks, I was beginning to feel a bit tipsy and even more horny at the thought of a proper re-acquaintance with this gorgeous creature. We left the pub and took a cab from a nearby taxi-rank for the short journey to my flat in the old city. On closing the door to my cozy wee place, Rachel put her arms around me for a hug and I pushed her gently up against the wall in the hallway so we could kiss passionately, our hands running hungrily over each other's bodies. My fully engorged prick ground against her luscious mound as we snogged, with Rachel rotating her hips a little to allow maximum contact to her sensitive places, making her moan quietly into my mouth, as our tongues fenced and swirled. Breaking-off reluctantly and holding Rachel's hand, I gave her a brief tour of my little bachelor pad at which she was suitably impressed. I had set a romantic table for two in the kitchen and started to cook a light stir-fry with sea-food in my wok, as Rachel chatted to me cheerily over a glass or two of Chablis. Rachel looked even prettier with her eyes sparkling over our candlelight dinner and I felt my seductive banter and boozy, home-made tiramisu was bound to get her in the mood for loving. After the meal, Rachel disappeared into the bathroom, whilst I sat languishing on my sofa with a little dram. She entered the sitting room wearing my toweling bathrobe. As she stood in front of me with a cheeky smile, she undid the belt and slowly slid the robe off her shoulders to reveal a magnificent sight to any young, horny guy like me. Rachel was in the finest lingerie, matching ivory silk bra and panties covered with red roses and silk stockings and suspenders of the same creamy color. With her tan and feminine curves, she looked amazing as she gave a sexy little wiggle and turn for my admiration. I rose to my feet, with a hard cock pressing visibly in my trousers and held her hand above her head as she twirled like in a ballroom dance. Standing back and gazing from her head to her varnished toes with unbridled lust, I gathered her into my arms for a passionate snog. My hands stroked up and down her lovely body and through her hair and she did the same with my manly frame. We carried-on French kissing and moaning gently as my hands cupped and fondled her large, silk-encased globes, thumb flicking softly over her nipples, causing them to poke-out through the shiny fabric. My other hand strayed between her legs to rub up and down her cunt lips, so that moisture seeped on-to my fingers through the silky material. Rachel moaned and held hard onto me, as her knees buckled at the pleasure flashing through her from my dexterous digits. I was desperate to shaft this gorgeous, mature woman, so scooped her into my arms and carried her into my bedroom, throwing her onto my king-sized bed. As I was stripping off my clothing, Rachel spread her thighs and ran her graceful fingers up and down the soaking silk of her panties. "I love your strong, young body" she gasped. When I'd stripped off my boxer shorts and my thick, hard cock bounced-out, she couldn't take her eyes off it and placed her hand inside her panties to rub her sensitive clitty with abandon. I maneuvered my head between her legs and pulled aside her panties to admire her moist cunt, then used the flat of my tongue to lap at her engorged labia. This had Rachel squirming and moaning as she ran her fingers through my hair. Flicking my tongue like a side to side like a lizard on her little bud, whilst fingering her cunt, soon had Rachel arching and spasming in orgasm, squirting some love juice onto my hand and face. Moving up her lovely body, she had undone her bra, freeing me to fondle those fulsome, tanned boobies and suckle and butterfly flick her long, brown nipples to her evident delight. Her hand reached down to grasp my thick cock, jerking it up and down slowly with elegant fingers. "I want that big boy inside of me" she pleaded, rising up and guiding my rampant erection towards her silk covered womanhood. Pulling her panties to one side, she slowly impaled herself down onto the thick shaft, gasping as she did so. "Oh, how you fill me, oh I love it" she moaned and shuddered. Rachel began to ease up and down, soon riding my cock like a desperado, her mouth open wide in ecstasy, as I pumped up into her. Warm love juices and precum mixed and streamed down my pistoning rod, flowing over hairy balls onto the duvet beneath. We were both gasping and groaning in unity, with me so close to exploding and Rachel screaming as she came again, a second huge orgasm pulsing in waves through her gorgeous body. Turning the panting Rachel onto her back, I lay on top kissing her face and neck, as she recovered from such a powerful climax. The head of my engorged prick was probing lightly at her dripping labia and throbbing clit as we petted lovingly. Soon she was ready for me again and reached down to guide my hard cock towards the entrance of her open cunt, then grasped my firm ass, pushing me all the way deep into her soaking love tunnel. I began to thrust, slowly at first and then with gathering pace as Rachel's lovely, hot cunt enticed and squeezed my throbbing shaft. She moaned and cried: "Oh God, oh God" as I pumped her harder and harder, grinding on her clitty on the downward stroke to push her towards heights of desire. Soon, I knew that I could hold out no longer; my aching balls were rising and the pressure within them building to blasting point. In and out, in and out I humped, balls-deep into this beautiful cougar, her wanton body arching upwards to match my thrusts. Then it was there, I was coming, sperm rushing from balls through throbbing shaft, jetting streams of hot white spunk into lovely Rachel's soaking cunt, herself rippling again in orgasm, as if to milk every last spurt of young man's juice into her grasping womb. We lay in each other's arms, gazing into adoring eyes and kissing fondly as we caught our breath from our loving exertions. We had the whole weekend ahead of us and I knew I would have to summon all my youthful strength and energy to satisfy the unbridled lust of this wonderful older woman. Rachel was an incredibly orgasmic, mature woman and I believe I brought-out the very best of her sexuality. By Stonemarten for Literotica

Mom's Hot Friend, Rachel Beautiful mature woman Joins Our Family Vacation on the beach. By Stonemarten. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. At the time of this story, I was about 30 years old and still near the peak of my virility; I had recently broken-up from a long-term relationship and feeling a little bruised by the experience, though I never felt lonely, as I've always had good mates around me, both male and female. My mum used to take short holidays out-of-season at a quiet beach resort in Spain and as my dad was constantly working, she often used to share her apartment with AuntyRachel. Rachel wasn't really my Aunty, but a very close friend of my mother's youth. I was told she was very close to us when I was a baby, and that's when she accepted the honorary title of Aunty, by my parents.  She'd married and moved away, but a couple years ago she was divorced. She never had children, so she renewed her connection with mum and the nickname "Aunty" seemed about right. Mum and Aunty were always very close, but I had almost no familiarity with her. She was a fine looking, mature woman in her late fifties and kept very fit and healthy for her age. She had mid-brown hair, which lightened a little in the sun and slight crows-feet around the eyes, for she was always sunning herself, giving her a lovely overall tan. Rachel was not slim, not fat, but curvaceous, with large boobs (I'd say D Cup) and a flattish tummy, a good sized bum with only a hint of cellulite; she went to the gym regularly and was in good shape for her age. Because mum knew I was a little down in the dumps, she asked whether I wished to join her and Rachel for a few days relaxing in the sunshine, eating some healthy Mediterranean food and swimming in the warm sea; not a regular prospect for me when living in Scotland! Up to then, I hadn't spent much time with Rachel, as I lived a long way from my parents since leaving for uni. My folks lived in the South of England. When I had met ‘Aunty' while visiting my folks, she had always seemed very vivacious and friendly and I did like the look of her, having a bit of a penchant for mature women. Their little Riviera apartment was on the first floor of a well-kept, but almost deserted block, quite up-market, as the unit had three large bedrooms all on-suite. We each had our own room and space, a cozy arrangement, where we could come and go doing our own thing. My mum, who was a bit of an amateur artist, was off painting really good watercolor paintings; Rachel liked to read books and generally relax in the sunshine, whilst I went off early morning nature and bird-watching, which has always been my special thing (love-making excluded). A Stroll On The Beach Late one afternoon, mum was due to drive to a local beauty spot to paint a sunset and suggested that Rachel and I should perhaps go for a wander along the beach, as the weather was lovely. Just then Rachel strolled into the living room in a skimpy bikini, revealing her lush cleavage and deeply tanned body. How could I say ‘no'? We set out together heading westwards along the wide sandy beach, which was almost deserted, except for the odd dog walker. Rachel was dressed in a yellow and white striped bikini with her bottom half wrapped in a light blue sarong. I was wearing t-shirt and swimming shorts. We walked slowly besides each other chatting away warmed by the sun. At one stage, Rachel took my hand and so we strolled hand-in-hand like a couple, but this wasn't a surprise to me as she was naturally an affectionate person. She took genuine interest in my life and preferences, even asking about my sex life and preferences? She treated me as a peer, not as a nephew. When I told her my recent relationship lacked any variety, she gasped; “She wouldn't even let you eat her?” Did she blow you? “No, and no.” I said. It was getting hot, so Rachel undid her sarong, so looking down at her bottom, I thought I'd compliment her by saying: "wow, even your ass is tanned brown;" I said, while pulling down my own swim shorts at the back to show her my somewhat paler backside.  She smiled graciously at my compliment. "It's not just my ass that's brown" she said, reaching back to undo her bikini top and letting loose her large, tanned boobs. They were fully-bronzed indeed, sagging slightly of course, but otherwise perfect, with lovely dark brown nipples. "Take your shorts and t-shirt off" she said: "there's no-one around and you could do with getting some sun on your whiter bits". Amazingly, her confidence rubbed off on me and I took off my shirt and pulled my shorts off, becoming totally naked beside her. She put my garments in her beach bag, along with her sarong. My body was in good shape in those days though with a flat stomach and muscles defined from martial arts and the gym. How the hell did I muster up such confidence? So there we were, strolling along hand-in-hand with the only scrap of clothing between the two of us being Rachel's little bikini bottom. Rachel looked amazing and the sway of her hips as she moved caused a slight tumescence in my prick which she couldn't help but notice, as it swung a little from side to side. A couple moments later it was clubbing my thighs in a rhythm set by my walking pace.  All of a sudden, she dropped her hand from mine and reached over instead to grasp my swaying cock in her hand. “Your poor cock is getting knocked around. Such a shame to see such a beautiful phallus being treated so.” She said as she led me along at a slower pace. This pleasant surprise immediately had my cock swelling and hardened to a long, thick erection, which she began stroking up and down slowly, whilst sporting a wide smile and wicked glint in her eyes, "what a lovely big boy" she exclaimed. A little way ahead of us was a small break between the sand dunes and an amused Rachel led me towards this gap, pulling me behind her by the cock in a rather comical manner.  I said nothing but anticipated anything could happen next. When we were hidden from view, she released me and spread-out her sarong on the sand. She then took me by the cock and guided me down, kneeling next to where she stood, then pushing me down onto my back in front of her. Dropping onto her knees between my thighs, she leaned her head down towards my rampant cock and placed the engorged pink head into her luscious mouth. Grabbing the shaft and wanking it, she licked and sucked my cock head and down to my balls, causing me to moan and shudder with pleasure; Rachel also gave out little moans, clearly enjoying the effect on me. After a few exquisite minutes, Rachel stood-up and quickly shed her bikini bottoms, moving forward to straddle my firm manhood that she placed between her spreading thighs. Rubbing its head for a few seconds against her moist labia, she eased down slowly to accommodate the thick shaft. Rachel's moist cunt may not have been the tightest, but it was certainly the hottest and wettest I'd ever felt, it was amazing and she could firmly grip me tightly. It took all my will-power not to ejaculate into her right there and then. Fortuitously for my ego, it was this lovely older lady that came first, as even after the first couple of pumps, Rachel was contorting forward and whimpering loudly as she convulsed over and over in a massive orgasm, gushing juices and clamping onto my thick shaft. Rachel's soft, brown tits bounced up and down gloriously as she rode me, pumping up and down on my swollen cock, as we both moaned and groaned in unison. I reached-up to grab and squeeze them, flicking my thumbs over her erect nipples as I did so; within seconds this had the desired effect and Rachel spasmed and pitched with the second of her mighty orgasms, which seemed to go on and on, her face contorted and mouth wide open. After a minute or so of further humping, Rachel rose up a little and I pushed her gently sideways onto her back. Straddling between her wide open legs, my head descended towards her womanhood, my tongue lapping at her engorged lips and clitoris like a cat at the cream; a few seconds of this had Rachel bucking and cumming again, grasping her tits and nipples and arching her back; I carried-on licking for a good five minutes as she gasped and sighed. My rampant cock was straining to return to its hot, wet home, so I moved up and over Rachel, giving her breasts deserved attention with my gaping mouth, before kissing and snogging this beautiful Milf, with our nether organs rubbing against each other. We were so ready for the finale with my favorite love-making position, the missionary. Grabbing my cock by the shaft, I pushed up into her soaking cunt and then plunged with abandon into her lovely body. Over and over I thrust into her, bum bouncing up and down obscenely, cock rodding in and out like a lubricated piston. We were both groaning at the pleasure of it and the pressure was building and building in my sperm-laden balls. Soon I could take it no longer, the site of this beautiful older woman writhing beneath me and the rhythmic squeezing of her cunt on my cock made me explode - jets of warm semen shot from my balls in white spurts through my pulsing shaft, splashing into the intimate depths of the gorgeous Rachel, as she screamed in mutual orgasm at the prize she had won by servicing this rampant young male. After kissing, cuddling and cleaning ourselves up, we set-off back down the beach holding hands as the sun was setting behind us, a little sheepish, as we didn't want mum to find-out what we had done. What was certain though, was that there was no way my lovely mature Rachel would be escaping my lusty clutches at least once again before I left for the UK in a few days' time. Fun times in the shower with amazing older woman. Following our illicit encounter on the beach, I only had a couple of days remaining of my holiday in Spain and was desperate to get to grips with Aunty Rachel at least once more before I left. Mum seemed to notice a change of atmosphere between myself and Rachel on the occasions when the three of us were socialising together.. I never seemed to have a chance to be alone with her, as mum was always around, purposely or not. On the last day before I was due to fly back to the UK, I resigned myself to not having another sexy encounter with the gorgeous lady. After lunch together, mum took Rachel out shopping and I went to sunbathe on a lounger and swim in the pool. Later in the afternoon, I went to the apartment to have a shower and to wash off the chlorine. It was a good sized shower and the shower-head was one of those large modern ones that makes you feel like you're standing in a tropical rainstorm. Needless to say, a lot of steam rose-up which fogged-up the place. Soon I was aware that someone had entered the bathroom, but I couldn't see clearly through the steamed-up glass. A manicured hand slid open the glass door to reveal the fully nude, tanned glory of the lovely Rachel. She stepped into the shower and I pulled her gently towards my slippery body, as the warm water cascaded upon us. We immediately started to kiss passionately and my soapy hands stroked and fondled her wonderful curves. Hers in turn ran-up and down my firm, muscular frame. My cock was quickly at full mast, poking rudely against her belly. One of her hands reached down to grasp the thick shaft, wanking it back and forth, causing the bulbous head to roll-in and out of the foreskin; within seconds this had me moaning with pleasure. Her other hand began to cup and soap my sperm laden balls making pre-cum ooze as a result of her double attention. My hands were upon her large, soft boobs, fondling and gently tweaking the lovely brown nipples into rising peaks. I leaned my head down to suckle them, one and then the other. Moving my right hand down between her legs, I ran my fingers up and down her swollen labia and over her little love button, then into her warm, moist cunt. Rachel gasped, delightfully surprised at the expert fingering of such a fine young man. We carried-on frigging each other, our tongues entwining deliciously in the French manner, groaning and mewing. Rachel's mouth suddenly gaped wide in a high-pitched howl as the spasms of orgasm overwhelmed her, love-hole clamping in pulses on my fingers and soaking them with juices. I was sure our secret was now discovered. The whole building had to have heard Rachel's orgasm. She noticed my concern and simply said; “It'll take her at least another 30 minutes to get back here. When we left the shower, we were clean in one way for sure, but very dirty in another, as Rachel leaned over me to envelop my stiff cock in her mouth, sucking and butterfly licking its sensitive head. I grabbed a large bath towel and started drying-us down as Rachel's head bobbed back and forth. Discarding the towel, I followed Rachel into her bedroom admiring her curvy figure, fantastic for a woman now in her midlife. When she turned towards me, I pushed her backwards onto the bed, with my strong body on top of her, opening thighs wide and watching her soft tits bounce up and down. My cock found her cunt with impeccable aim and eased all the way into her warm moist sheath. Rachel may have been a mature woman, but she was a perfect fit for my youthful prick as I began to piston in and out of her. Smooth bronze legs curled around the back of my thighs, as I pumped over and over again to a chorus of: "oh baby, oh baby, oh baby!" With the feeling I was about to cum, I built-up the intensity of my thrusts, so that Rachel could sense it and her cries grew louder as she peaked towards her own climax. I was there and with a guttural growl, erupted, spunk shooting and coating her intimate place with torrents of warm white seed. As if on instinct, Rachel's cunt clenched in uncontrollable spasms as she wailed in the throes of her own orgasm. When mum arrived home sometime later, Rachel and I were in the kitchen drinking wine as if nothing had happened. A conspiratorial grin from Rachel was the only confirmation of our secretive passion. I flew out of Spain the next morning with a renewed sense of joy. I took the train from London to Edinburgh while having the distinct feeling that it wouldn't be long before I would partake again in the pleasures of Rachel, the gorgeous older woman. Lovely, mature Rachel heats-up my wee flat in Edinburgh. My heart raced a little faster when I saw the unmistakable, curvy figure of Aunty Rachel coming towards me down the platform of Waverley Station in Edinburgh. She looked as beautiful as ever as I gathered her up in my arms for a kiss. She was wearing a figure-hugging, light blue dress showing off her ample cleavage, underneath a short, pale yellow jacket and white scarf with blue polka dots. She was looking very summery with her tan, sun-lightened, brown hair and large round sunglasses. I grabbed her suitcase and held her hand as we headed-up onto Princes Street and then on to Rose Street to a pub for a drink, so she could relax after her long journey from the South of England The pub was very busy, so we sat cozily next to each other chatting, whilst I drank my pint of Belhaven Best and she sipped her gin and tonic. Her sweet perfume and the proximity of this luscious, mature woman had my cock swelling a little in my trousers, so I leaned over to kiss her full lips, as our thighs rubbed softly together and her hand gently stroked my knee. After a second round of drinks, I was beginning to feel a bit tipsy and even more horny at the thought of a proper re-acquaintance with this gorgeous creature. We left the pub and took a cab from a nearby taxi-rank for the short journey to my flat in the old city. On closing the door to my cozy wee place, Rachel put her arms around me for a hug and I pushed her gently up against the wall in the hallway so we could kiss passionately, our hands running hungrily over each other's bodies. My fully engorged prick ground against her luscious mound as we snogged, with Rachel rotating her hips a little to allow maximum contact to her sensitive places, making her moan quietly into my mouth, as our tongues fenced and swirled. Breaking-off reluctantly and holding Rachel's hand, I gave her a brief tour of my little bachelor pad at which she was suitably impressed. I had set a romantic table for two in the kitchen and started to cook a light stir-fry with sea-food in my wok, as Rachel chatted to me cheerily over a glass or two of Chablis. Rachel looked even prettier with her eyes sparkling over our candlelight dinner and I felt my seductive banter and boozy, home-made tiramisu was bound to get her in the mood for loving. After the meal, Rachel disappeared into the bathroom, whilst I sat languishing on my sofa with a little dram. She entered the sitting room wearing my toweling bathrobe. As she stood in front of me with a cheeky smile, she undid the belt and slowly slid the robe off her shoulders to reveal a magnificent sight to any young, horny guy like me. Rachel was in the finest lingerie, matching ivory silk bra and panties covered with red roses and silk stockings and suspenders of the same creamy color. With her tan and feminine curves, she looked amazing as she gave a sexy little wiggle and turn for my admiration. I rose to my feet, with a hard cock pressing visibly in my trousers and held her hand above her head as she twirled like in a ballroom dance. Standing back and gazing from her head to her varnished toes with unbridled lust, I gathered her into my arms for a passionate snog. My hands stroked up and down her lovely body and through her hair and she did the same with my manly frame. We carried-on French kissing and moaning gently as my hands cupped and fondled her large, silk-encased globes, thumb flicking softly over her nipples, causing them to poke-out through the shiny fabric. My other hand strayed between her legs to rub up and down her cunt lips, so that moisture seeped on-to my fingers through the silky material. Rachel moaned and held hard onto me, as her knees buckled at the pleasure flashing through her from my dexterous digits. I was desperate to shaft this gorgeous, mature woman, so scooped her into my arms and carried her into my bedroom, throwing her onto my king-sized bed. As I was stripping off my clothing, Rachel spread her thighs and ran her graceful fingers up and down the soaking silk of her panties. "I love your strong, young body" she gasped. When I'd stripped off my boxer shorts and my thick, hard cock bounced-out, she couldn't take her eyes off it and placed her hand inside her panties to rub her sensitive clitty with abandon. I maneuvered my head between her legs and pulled aside her panties to admire her moist cunt, then used the flat of my tongue to lap at her engorged labia. This had Rachel squirming and moaning as she ran her fingers through my hair. Flicking my tongue like a side to side like a lizard on her little bud, whilst fingering her cunt, soon had Rachel arching and spasming in orgasm, squirting some love juice onto my hand and face. Moving up her lovely body, she had undone her bra, freeing me to fondle those fulsome, tanned boobies and suckle and butterfly flick her long, brown nipples to her evident delight. Her hand reached down to grasp my thick cock, jerking it up and down slowly with elegant fingers. "I want that big boy inside of me" she pleaded, rising up and guiding my rampant erection towards her silk covered womanhood. Pulling her panties to one side, she slowly impaled herself down onto the thick shaft, gasping as she did so. "Oh, how you fill me, oh I love it" she moaned and shuddered. Rachel began to ease up and down, soon riding my cock like a desperado, her mouth open wide in ecstasy, as I pumped up into her. Warm love juices and precum mixed and streamed down my pistoning rod, flowing over hairy balls onto the duvet beneath. We were both gasping and groaning in unity, with me so close to exploding and Rachel screaming as she came again, a second huge orgasm pulsing in waves through her gorgeous body. Turning the panting Rachel onto her back, I lay on top kissing her face and neck, as she recovered from such a powerful climax. The head of my engorged prick was probing lightly at her dripping labia and throbbing clit as we petted lovingly. Soon she was ready for me again and reached down to guide my hard cock towards the entrance of her open cunt, then grasped my firm ass, pushing me all the way deep into her soaking love tunnel. I began to thrust, slowly at first and then with gathering pace as Rachel's lovely, hot cunt enticed and squeezed my throbbing shaft. She moaned and cried: "Oh God, oh God" as I pumped her harder and harder, grinding on her clitty on the downward stroke to push her towards heights of desire. Soon, I knew that I could hold out no longer; my aching balls were rising and the pressure within them building to blasting point. In and out, in and out I humped, balls-deep into this beautiful cougar, her wanton body arching upwards to match my thrusts. Then it was there, I was coming, sperm rushing from balls through throbbing shaft, jetting streams of hot white spunk into lovely Rachel's soaking cunt, herself rippling again in orgasm, as if to milk every last spurt of young man's juice into her grasping womb. We lay in each other's arms, gazing into adoring eyes and kissing fondly as we caught our breath from our loving exertions. We had the whole weekend ahead of us and I knew I would have to summon all my youthful strength and energy to satisfy the unbridled lust of this wonderful older woman. Rachel was an incredibly orgasmic, mature woman and I believe I brought-out the very best of her sexuality. By Stonemarten for Literotica

Send us a Text Message.Compiled & Mixed By Mike Flux01. SeeMeNot & Roman Flügel – Borderline (Roman Flügel Remix)02. Jan Blomqvist – The Space In Between (Ben Bohmer Extended Remix)03. Sonny Fodera feat. Dom Dolla – Moving Blind (Original Mix)04. Bernard (It) – Colours Of Life (Original Mix)05. Sono – Keep Control (ARTBAT Remix)06. Rony Seikaly – Understand (Gorge Remix)07. Tiefstone – Sauron (Nightmare Unlimited)08. Qubiko – Mucho Mas (Extended Mix)09. Mirko & Meex – Like This (Extended Mix)10. Dom Dolla – Take It (Extended Mix)11. Yolanda Be Cool & DCUP feat. Sllash & Doppe – We No Speak Americano (Sllash & Doppe Remix)12. Lexa Hill – Hedonism (Original Mix)13. Audiojack & Polarbear – Introspection (Nick Curly Remix)14. LO'99 – Acid Worldwide (Extended Mix)15. Monolink – Return to Oz (Artbat Remix)16. Claude VonStroke & Green Velvet feat. Get Real – Jolean (Extended Mix)17. CamelPhat & Yannis – Hypercolour (ARTBAT Remix)18. The Cube Guys – Plastic Dreams (Cubed Remix 2020)19. John ‘Julius' Knight & Roland Clark – This Is House (Marco Lys Extended Remix)20. Jansons & Dope Earth Alien – Switch (Extended Mix)21. Iglesias – Blah (Extended Mix)22. CamelPhat & Cari Golden – Freak (Matthias Tanzmann Remix)23. Late Replies – Hold Up (Original Mix)24. Jamie Jones & The Martinez Brothers – Bappi (Original Mix)#house #housemusic #housemix #housemusicmix #undergroundhouse #mikeflux #allabouthousemusic#cyprusdj #cyprusdjs #podcasts #podcastSupport the Show.© 2024 AAHM GLOBAL GROUP | MIKE FLUXallabouthousemusic.com

The Curran View Episode 183Everton Points Deduction, Cabbage Patch Kid, Storm in D Cup, RIP Stan & Chris, FA Cup 5th Round, plus All the regular features and more besides #thecurranviewpodcast #srbmedia With Terry Curran and Paul CollinsEdited/Produced by Chris Browne Full episode ⁠⁠⁠www.patreon.com/srbmedia⁠⁠⁠ www.srbmedia.co.ukSupport this show http://supporter.acast.com/srbmedia. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

On this special Valentine's Day episode, joining Doron and guest co-host extraordinaire Dana Shauli Malmstrom (1981-85), to tell us her story - on her birthday - is the inimitable Jill Kenton, who many old Carmelis around the world know of course as Doron's regular co-host on the ‘Road from Carmel' podcast and as the indefatigable organizer of multiple Carmel reunions. Jill is a professional voice-over artist with a global clientele, and the new face of ‘Shapewear' on QVC UK,  and was the marketing director of her family's brand, Rigby & Peller, for over two decades in the UK and New York. Hear Jill tell us about lunch with Princess Diana, recording the audiobook version of her mom's book (“Storm in a D Cup”), a Carmel version of “The Escape from Alcatraz” gone wrong, the object of her affection on her first Valentine's Day at Carmel (apparently he was the very next best thing to Barry Manilow), and select other highlights of her romantic life in Mongewell Park (we keep it PG-rated).  Happy Birthday, Jill! Thank you, Jill, for turning us again to Carmel days!   Thank you also to Dana for stepping in as Doron's co-host to turn the spotlight on Jill. Dedication: at Jill's request, this episode is dedicated to the memory of Clyde Osols, Jill's first boyfriend and our good friend from Carmel days, who tragically passed away in Berlin in 2016.   Personal mentions in this episode: Rabbi Jeremy Rosen (Headmaster) Philip Skelker (Headmaster) Anthony Barr Taylor (Biology) John Browning (French & German) Mrs Lamb (Drama) Kate Eckersley (Singing) Fay Fawcett (Piano) Liz Goodall (Music) Rony Greenberg (Jewish Studies) Mary Evans (Mathematics) Nicki Borisute Rachel Feuerstein Lisa Bronzite Lisa Rudd Toni Guest Penny Borisute Rebecca Wernick Adam Sherridan Avi Fine Daniel Cohen Arkadi Nachimowski Clyde Osols Simon Breslav Nir Hogi Jamie Cowland Emma Goldstone Joanne Simon Irit Tausowicz Danny Rubens Marc Katz Jeremy Solomon Linda Krisman Kenny Wax Herman Benjamin Sam Spivack Paul Simon   Feel free to leave a comment letting us know what you liked about this episode, and rate us on your favorite podcast platform

Today we marvel about B Movies, like the upcoming "Barbenheimer" about a murderous mad scientist doll, hell bent on revenge, & "Bjorn of the Dead" starring Iron Maiden frontman Bruce Dickinson about an ABBA tribute band, trapped in a pub with other tribute bands as the apocalypse begins. Then of course the newly uncovered Led Zeppelin trivia and speculation on the 49ers vs Jaguars this weekend. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Adler beenden Niederlagenserie im Derby gegen Frankfurt +++ Mannschaft zum D-Cup nominiert +++ Berlin und Bremerhaven die Performer der Liga +++

Linda Bonney is usually found behind the scenes of the Teaching Yourself to Learn Podcast. Usually in the wee hours of the night, across the other side of the globe in a little island called Tasmania. If you have been following along, this is not her first appearance - yet in this formal instance she chats with Holly about: What transformation looks like, and how we often perform for others. The process, application and realities of Dream, Doubt and Do. Adaptation to change, the pendulum that we experience in transformation. Dreams and motivations moving forward in the third half of life. This conversation is actually two friends catching up and the vibrancy and wonderful dynamic of that is infectious and a big part of why we do what we do. To find out more about Linda Bonney and to follow more of current projects such as Stories With a Sunday Roast and The Doyle Avenue Project please visit www.lindabonney.com. To connect and find out more about Holly, apply to be a guest and share your story you can reach her at teachingyourselftolearn@gmail.com and her website www.teachingyourselftolearn.com.

Patching things up with Yasmin & Nikita plus complications.By FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the podcast at Steamy Stories.-Strength is equal parts Body and the Mind, but true strength comes from a relentless Spirit.-(Late Saturday Morning)“Why is she here?” Yasmin asked me, giving a nod toward Buffy. Buffy was a good ten meters away, technically fulfilling her duty as my bodyguard. Yasmin had agreed to meet me at a park.“Her name is Buffy Dubois and she’s my bodyguard for the weekend,” I explained. “At least I’m back at my apartment.”“What happens with her if you don’t go back to work Monday?” Yasmin inquired. “Does your ‘bodyguard’ kill you?”“Nah, not Buffy,” I gave a lop-sided grin. “My co-workers believe in overkill. I bet they’ll send at least three to make it nice, swift and quiet.”“Why do you joke about this?” Yasmin studied me.“As opposed to what?” I chuckled. “Lashing out is futile. Running isn’t much better. I chose to fight when I must, love when I can and laugh when I should be crying.”“Do you think they will come after me?” she murmured.What Yasmin really wanted to know was if her 3-year old son was in danger. From everything I’d learned and seen about Yasmin, she was tough as nails. I had given this some serious thought. I couldn’t read Katrina’s, or Hayden’s minds, so I had to go on my limited experience. Yasmin had seen and heard a great deal yet Elsa let her walk away, and that had definitely been Elsa’s doing.Elsa was the worst kind of racial Supremacist - the benevolent one. She didn’t base her status on some pseudo-scientific mumbo-jumbo. She based it on the feats of her ancestors, the training she had endured and the devotion she and her sisters dedicated to their craft - violence. She was better than the rest of humanity because she could kill us if she desired and take what she wanted.We had what we had, even our lives, because she allowed it and she had no orders to the contrary. That was her generosity - her benevolent act.“Might,” I sighed. “If I fuck up my balancing act, they might use you to hurt me, or as an object lesson.” Yasmin’s face clouded with anger.“Why did you invite me over if you thought things would develop this way?” Yasmin glared.“Not being insane, I cannot fathom the minds of the insane,” I reasoned. “As soon as I find a way around one challenge, they throw up something new. I certainly didn’t know there was a 'members only’ facility along with a gym for the rest of us peons.” She looked down at her hands.“They really are some kind of crazy cult,” she muttered. She sighed. “You can’t get out and now they know I exist…this is screwed up. What are we going to do?” She could be referring to herself and her son, or herself and me.“I’ve got some money,” I said. “A few thousand. I can get you plane tickets and you two can take off somewhere safer than here.”“You are a real man,” Yasmin slowly smiled. What? Sensing my confusion. “You take responsibility for your actions, protect the weak and those in need, and you are brave in the face of pain and adversity. Where I come from, that is the definition of a man.”“Funny - where I come from that is the definition of bad Hollywood scriptwriting,” I grinned.“Ha,” she laughed. She’d decided to stick around and fuck me despite the specter of eminent death. She was not callous to the fate of her child. Far from it. The only ally she had in this fight was me. She’d beat the fuck out of her husband with a bullet in her shoulder. When surrounded by hostile Amazons she still struggled to get to my side.“What about your Jason Statham?” she prodded.“He’s English. Besides, I prefer Chiaki Kuriyama,” I eyebrow pumped. “There is something about a chick with cast-iron balls.”“Who?” Yasmin searched her memories.“Gogo Yubari from Kill Bill Volume 1,” I informed her. Yasmin thought that over.“That girl was clearly insane!” she thumped my chest.“Believe me, female mental health issues have never stopped me in the past,” I shrugged.“I’m beginning to think you have low standards,” Yasmin smirked.“That implies you think more of me than most women who actually know me,” I snorted.“Let’s go get something to eat. There is a place that serves authentic Acarajé and Vatapá close by,” Yasmin stood and took my hand. I went with her.“So, what are those things you mentioned?” I asked.“You’ll have to wait and find out. I owe you a few dozen surprises after what you’ve put me through,” she teased. After a few seconds, I started laughing. Yasmin was confused.“As bad as it is going to be for me, think how rough it is going to be on Buffy,” I chuckled. “As far as I know, she doesn’t even speak Portuguese, much less traveled to Brazil.”The restaurant taught me a few things. Yasmin was a regular, the men knew her and were afraid of her. A little bit of eye-ball psychology taught me that Yasmin was apparently a one woman domestic abuse arbitrator. Translation: if you were a man who hit your wife, or girlfriend, she pointed you to the closest Emergency Room after she was done with you.In Brazil, men could use the 'machismo’ defense; basically, the bitch had it coming because she threatened my manhood. In Yasmin’s New York City, machismo worked a 'little’ differently. Essentially, there wasn’t a 'straight’ Brazilian man alive who would admit that Yasmin, a woman, had beat the ever-living Hell out of them.The Brazilian ladies who stopped by introduced me to another quaint Yasmin term. It was called 'parroting’. Parroting was what happened when some butthole became a real, repeat problem. Yasmin dragged them to the roof of whatever building she found the dumbass in and threw him off - technically aiming for the closest dumpster. The men often flapped and squawked like parrots as the plummeted down, thus the term.Women were stopping by because I appeared to be an aberration - a man on a date with Yasmin. Best of all, 80% of the conversation in a language I didn’t know. The first serious question thus caught me out of the blue.“Do you date many women?” one sultry number purred.“I’m not sure I would say 'many’,” responded after some feigned concentration. “I only date women from Manhattan…and the Tri-State Area…pretty much the East Coast…and the Ohio Valley and the Mississippi Valley. I should include the Deep South…okay, maybe every women this side of the Rockies…and the West Coast…Hawaii and Alaska would be a change of pace as well.”“I’ve met some nice Asian girls,” I continued to muse, “and South America is looking real promising at the moment. At this point,” I looked over the small clique of women hanging about, “ignoring Africa, Europe, India and the Middle East would be short-sighted.”“Do you fuck as good as you exaggerate, (along with some pet name I didn’t know)?” the waitress asked. I could so do her.“No,” I sighed. “I’m a virgin boy fresh out of Catholic School and have never known the intimate touch of a woman.” For a second, they all wanted to believe that.Guys aren’t the only ones who want to 'break in’ a virgin, believe me. I’ve used the 'I’m a nervous virgin uncertain if I want to attempt sex’ mystique more than once. It is a win-win. Sexually under-confident women know they won’t be judged against any other women and when the sex becomes stellar, they think they are great teachers so they become more willing to experiment.After all, if they get it wrong, I - the young virgin - won’t know the difference. Now, it is not that I always lie. It is just that the truth doesn’t normally get me what I want. As an example, if a girl is terrible at giving a blowjob - don’t tell her that. Tell her she’s doing fine, but maybe this (a technique you know works) might feel different (i.e. better/less painful).Sure, I lied to her. Instead of making her upset and not want to continue in the art of fellatio, she learned a valuable lesson and will not only make me happy, she’ll make happy every other man she is with later. Others can keep their slavish devotion to honesty. I’d rather dispense happiness. Besides, I’ll give them other reasons to be pissed with me soon enough.“Hardly,” Yasmin laughed. “I imagine the closest you’ve come to religion is thanking God when you’ve discovered your date had a horny sister and was willing to share.”“Wow…break room talk much,” I had the decency to appear embarrassed.“Why yes,” Yasmin smirked. “Ms. Reichmann was very expressive in her recounting of your bedroom antics with her and her sister after the sister’s date passed out.”“To be fair, I hadn’t had sex all day and I was kind of wound up,” I offered up.“Do you like toying with women’s affections?” my original questioner asked.“Wha - wait,” I frowned. “You think I’m going out with Yasmin because I want to have sex with her?” Of course I was. “She’s interesting and we both practice Brazilian jujutsu.”“Why would I hunt down a studio when I found a perfectly good practitioner on the job? Plus, my work place had the sparring mats,” I explained. Remember, when lying, tell a lie your audience wants to believe. Yasmin was a feminine titan, standing alone (with her son) against a hostile male world. The women around me counted on that. Dating a hot, physically fit hunk for the purpose of sexual gratification was totally realistic.Dating me because I knew her martial arts style was far less believable, but made them happier, so they went with option B - the workout buddy.“The truth must be like gold to you,” Yasmin snickered. “It is so valuable, you hardly ever use it.” She looked at her buddies. “I have wrestled him to the mat and he was VERY interested.”“Yasmin, that wasn’t me hard. When aroused, I’m much bigger,” I pleaded.“Liar,” she smacked me in the bicep. “I need to take care of something. Don’t run off with him,” she told the girls - in English - for my benefit.Yasmin left our small table and headed for Buffy who was leaning against the wall right inside the doorway. I couldn’t overhear what they were saying. Buffy smiled, nodded and took a table.A minute later, Yasmin had ordered food for Buffy then came back my way.“Is that your girlfriend?” my waitress asked. Why she wasn’t working wasn’t clear to me.“No, she’s his bodyguard,” Yasmin interrupted.“Yes, she is,” I countered half a second later. I looked at Yasmin.“You know that woman who beat me into the ground?” I met Yasmin’s gaze. She nodded. “Well, she was giving Buffy crap for all kinds of reason; only peripherally for befriending me. I didn’t have sex with her to get back at that lady. I did it because she needed me and I needed her. After this, we can’t engage in intercourse for…71 days. It’s complicated.”“Sex with you is some sort of gift?” another one taunted.“Absolutely,” I grinned. “Ask every other woman I’ve been with. Hell, they love me so much, when we break up they normally take some sort of weapon to me, books being the most popular, but I’ve been shot at, stabbed, punched, slapped and wracked too.”There was a moment of silence. Yasmin had her own war story that was well known.“I’ve seen him naked,” Yasmin’s smile cut through the tension. “He has the scars to prove it.”“You peeked when we were changing?” I gasped. I wasn’t really all that surprised.“Yes,” she snickered. “They only have Women’s changing rooms where Cáel works,” she related to the other ladies. The conversation may have flipped back to Portuguese yet the words were definitely descriptive. Either that, or my penis had slipped passed my zipper and the buttons on my shirt had burst off exposing my broad chest and rock hard abs.Yasmin looked at me and said, “É o meu P.A.” The girls all laughed.“Anyone going to clue me in on the joke?” I requested. By mutual consensus, they agreed not to - bitches. For a while, this man had been yelling from the kitchen. If finally dawned on me, and our waitress, the cook had been calling her to pick up her orders.I could have ignored her short denim skirt and seductive sway of the hips, but that would have been disingenuous. Besides, in some cultures, if your 'man’ wasn’t noticing the women around you, he was somewhat less of a man. I unleashed my inner 'machismo’ and oinked. Yasmin shoved me while laughing. The other women found my being distracted amusing as well.I could really get used to Brazilian culture especially when that included Brazilian women. After lunch, we picked up Buffy on the way out. Buffy 'thanked’ Yasmin - in Portuguese. Mother-fucker. That was so unfair. Never one to miss an opportunity to make a bad situation better - or worse, I asked Buffy what 'É o meu P.A.’ meant.Buffy said something to Yasmin in Portuguese. Yasmin responded. They both laughed - bitches.“It is a term of endearment,” Buffy assured me. Sure it was. That is why neither one would tell me what it meant - I repeat yet again; bitches.[FYI: 'É o meu P.A.’ (P.A. stands for Pinto Amigo) literally means 'my friend Penis (or) my penis friend’. In Brazilian Portuguese slang (many thanks to a buddy from Portugal who saved me from a grievous linguistic error) this is a term of sexual endearment indicating trust and a sexual history, but don’t tell Cáel that.]Yasmin and I walked a ways before she had to head in a different direction. We kissed. I kept my hands firmly on her hips like a good boy. She put her hand down my pants and stroked my cock for about a minute, in public.“Next time, I think we have sex,” Yasmin winked before departing. I watched her walk away until she vanished in the crowd. She didn’t look back. She was far too confident.“Well, she seems nice,” Buffy caught me off-guard. She’d snuck up while I was watching Yasmin and she was still being so horribly friendly to me. Best of all, she assured me she’d be back to her normally aggressive self-come Monday morning - right about the time I finally got used to her being nice to me.“Yeah…she is,” I sighed.“What’s wrong?” Buffy inquired compassionately.“What do you mean?” I stared evenly at Buffy. “Hanging out with me could get her killed, that’s what’s wrong.”“That’s not likely to happen,” Buffy to reassure me. I shook my head.“I’d ask you if you were nuts, but I know you are nuts,” I grunted. “Elsa wouldn’t kill you yet she’d kill Yasmin and her son without batting an eye if she felt a severe lesson was in order. Buffy, you work for animals. We both do. The difference being that you are one.”“I don’t think you appreciate how popular you are with the company,” Buffy insisted. “You’ve worked really hard to impress them and they value your efforts.” I screamed to the Heavens. Elsewhere, I would have drawn some serious looks. In NYC, I barely drew any notice.“Yeah - great. Remind me to clap like a pet seal Monday morning. Buffy, you, Katrina and a few others are grinning, thinking you’ve made great strides on this New Directive and the crime for a security guard shooting me as I walk in the office every day is the same - a transfer to someplace less pleasant. Correct me if I’m wrong,” I laid into her.“The difference is that they don’t want to shoot you,” Buffy countered.“Wow, if you put 'you-Buffy’ in place of 'you-Cáel’ you will realize how inconsequential that is,” I informed her. “I’m a human being - unless I’m in Havenstone. Inside, my well-being is based solely on your sufferance - just like a test monkey.”“If you really empathized, you would realize the only other people that walk around think 'gosh, I shouldn’t murder that person today’ are serial killers. Yet you expect me to be thankful for tap dancing faster than you shoot at my feet. You have this happy dream that I’ve accomplished anything,” I shook my head.“In 71 days one of you is going to kill me - that is the reality I’m staring down,” I gazed at her.“Why do you think we’ll turn on you then?” Buffy actually appeared upset.“Havenstone has been letting me play with this '84 Day’ fiction because it amuses all of you,” I took a deep breath. “Whatever I can do in the last 71 days of my life probably won’t matter.”“You’ve made a difference with Aya and Oneida,” Buffy rallied.“Great, I saved the life of someone who would stab me in the heart if I slapped her,” I countered. “As for Aya…I dread to think what she will go through when she figures out you’ve put me down like a rabid dog. I help her because I have to try, because the rest of you have written her off.”We walked the rest of the way to the apartment in silence.“Katrina is not going to like the results of our little chat,” Buffy mumbled. I laughed.“Buffy, she knows. When the time comes she’s sending Elsa to take me alive. I don’t know how I’m going to beat her. It is one of the thousand, or so, things I’m working on,” I chuckled.“I know Katrina better than you do,” Buffy rolled her eyes. “I think you under-estimate her affection for you.”“I don’t doubt her affection for me,” I told Buffy. “I simply deem it to be valueless. Listen, it took me ten seconds to figure out what Aya needed at the Archery range.”“Not a God-damn person who knew her their entire lives would have ever done what I did,” I continued. “It wasn’t that they didn’t understand what needed to be done - show a little faith in her. It was that none of them would have ever had the humanity to do it. Katrina could think the Sun rises and sets on me. It doesn’t change a damn thing that happens in 71days.”I neglected to say that Katrina murdered/dueled her own grandmother to bring Desiree into the Epona fold. That was the head of her household. I wasn’t an Amazon, or even a woman. Buffy was making shit up to keep the insanity of her life at bay. Oh, she’d kill me if Katrina gave the order. She’d hate herself for it. That wouldn’t do me a damn bit of good though.(Saturday Afternoon and then some)Our conversation died for two reasons as I led the way into my apartment. First off, it was Havenstone business and neither one of us was foolish enough to talk about it in front of Timothy and Odette. The other reason would have been Brooke and Libra sitting on Timothy’s sofa. Those two stood up as we entered.“Hi…” I got to say.“We just came around to tell you that you are an…” Libra spat but then, “Which one is this?”“You could have called first,” I snapped back. I reached for my phone…which wasn’t there. Odette sheepishly lifted my phone up from her side. I imagine that bitch had been ringing off the hook since my departure.There was a major bitch-fest coming down the pipeline. I wasn’t going to let that happen. There is an advantage to people having a low opinion of you. It gives you the unspoken permission to act like a crass asshole whenever you feel like it.“This lady is Buffy Dubois and she’s my bodyguard for the weekend,” I tried to sound bored.“Listen, the restaurant we went to was long on sizzling hot food and short on ceiling fans, so I’m going to take a shower,” I callously stated. “Brooke, want to join me?” No, Brooke didn’t want to join me. She wanted to rip my hair out in large, painful clumps. She was the Princess and I was the bottom feeder with dirt under my fingernails (huge salary be damned).“No, I don’t want to shower with you, you Jerk!” Brooke snarled. Sadly, now I was making poor use of my loyal Odette. Such is life. “We only stayed long enough to give you a piece of our minds.”“I’ll come with you!” Odette peeped. She had been on the floor, back to the small space of wall between the workout alcove and the door to my bedroom.Timothy was leaning on the portion of the living room wall next to the short hall that led to the bathroom and his bedroom. He seemed more and more amused as the encountered unfolded.“No,” Brooke squalled. “I’m not done with him yet.” She followed me to the bathroom. Now normally, I would get a towel from the bathroom, go to my bedroom to strip down then return to the bathroom for a shower, or soak in the tub.This time I went straight to the bathroom. Brooke had built up a good head of steam, I slammed the door shut the second she came in. She was about to unload some truly spectacular vitriol on me. That wasn’t the game plan. I shoved Brooke into the door and pressed my lips against hers, conveying my deep desire for her and dowsing her rage.“No, you don’t…” she got out. Game plan.“God Brooke, I’ve been worried sick about you. Have you been holding up okay?” I turned on the concern. This is what she wanted to hear. I wasn’t indifferent to her emotional state. In fact, I was so wrapped up in her Brooke’s turmoil I was nearly paralyzed into inactivity.These are the words that Brooke wanted. What mattered to Brooke most was Brooke, followed up by how much Brooke mattered to other people.“I - ah,” she mumbled before we kissed once more. This time she was hungry and passionate. She had reaffirmed that I was in her 'corner’.Now she could get down to the real reason she’d shown up to a place where some middle class guy who didn’t return her phone calls lived - sex.“Work's been a mess since Trent jumped ship and took that promotion,” I grumbled, still focused on giving Brooke oral stimulation. “The important thing is how have you been recovering? How have you been coming along?”Seduction is multi-layered. Know your partner; not just their erogenous zones, but their likes, dislikes, mindset and goals. Thus I used words like 'Trent jumped ship’ and 'promotion’ to fixate Brooke’s anger on Trent, not me. He deserved it. Also, I used 'recovering’ and 'coming along’ to insinuate that Brooke - strong Brooke - was getting through this trauma all on her own, so now she could let me help her and not be in a weak, desperate position.All that led up to Brooke justifying to herself that she could let me ravish her in the shower without her looking like some insecure, post-breakup slut. The first words that came to mind were 'Pound Puppy’ though 'Pound Kitty’ was more apropos. I was nice, tender, gentle and loving as I drew her into the tub with the shower on.She cuddled against my chest, got off a few tears - mainly for my benefit to express how much she still needed comforting. Then I began tearing her up. I went VOA this time out - vagina, oral, anal - and she had no doubt that I was FUCKING her, capital 'F’. She was no Chalmers’ girl, but she certainly spared no expense on the screams, howls and caterwauls as I ripped piece after sensual piece off of her; body and soul. Thankfully I keep six condoms beneath the shampoo dispenser.It is indicative of the state of disrepair of our apartment building that the water heater didn’t exhaust the water supply and turn cold - it turned lukewarm. More screwing for Brooke and me. When she finally came crashing down from her trash pile of depression, self-doubt and rage over a world that had suddenly stopped making sense, I cut off the water, held her tight, and exited us from the tub.Both being players, Timothy and I had stocked up on nice, plush terry-cloth towels. Nothing builds up a mood for a repeat performance like drying off in a really comfy towel, or kills it faster than being wrapped up in some rag. I partially dried off Brooke because she was still craving close, romantic contact.Again, the most important person in the room was Brooke, and by attending to her, I was reinforcing that. I even stopped what I was doing to watch her put her underwear, socks then pants back on. She loved it. Then Brooke began looking around the small space for her bra. I had been hiding it behind my back. I revealed it, avoided having her swipe it back then used one finger to beckon her forward.Her resistance was enough to assert her independence, but not enough to dampen the sensuous course of events. She stepped forward, I tapped my lips indicating she had to kiss me to get back her undergarment. Brooke faux-resisted then kissed me. Then she French kissed me. I gave her bra back, still she pushed her body against mine, kissing away.She gave up the oral gratification when she wanted to give it up. She was the one in command, she asserted that by giving me what I wanted, so I was okay with things. She kept radiating her confidence as I kept very still, looking her over as she finished putting on her clothes. I cannot stress this enough: give the girl what she wants.There was absolutely no difference between lashing Rhada, instructing Odette in sensuality, finger fucking Elsa, upping my game to the highest levels with Buffy and going at Brooke in a romantic-aggressive style. Oh yeah, it is rarely productive to actually ask a girl what she wants. Most of the time they want to please you, so they’ll lie.Lie better than they do and read what their body likes. Go from there. That was another gift from my mentor. When she was teaching me ancient love poetry, literature and culture, she was doing more than that. She was teaching me how to read women, get inside their minds and make them happy with things they may not even acknowledged they liked. God, I miss her.We/she decided that graduation was the end of the road for our romantic journey. She’d find another young man in need and start over. I would go out in the world and spread the passion and love, my fidelity failings be damned. Libra wasn’t far from being a happy camper when Brooke and I came back out of the bathroom, one arm around Brooke’s waist, the other holding my clothes and me in a towel.“Woot!” Odette, sitting on the floor once more, fist-pumped. “You knocked it right out of the ballpark.” Brooke glared. Libra scowled. Odette basked in the knowledge that she was on the 'inside’ of my little world now. She didn’t have to play games. If she wanted to hang out, or have sex, she could come on over and I’d do my best to accommodate her.Odette had gone from hook-up, to fuck-buddy, to friend. She was still a girl around me with all the resulting pitfalls. That wasn’t going to go away. What she had decided was that she was getting to hang out with cool, adult people. Dating in high school had never been difficult yet in the transition to adulthood, she’d be caught in a state of limbo.One night she met this young, dark stranger and she’d decided to take a chance. Now she had a big, musclebound gay sofa-buddy who was a relatively famous tattoo artist, a woman bed companion who apparently kicked ass for a secret society of some kind (Odette wasn’t stupid) and that gorgeous, dark stranger to make love to her, to cuddle with and to wake up next to.I’d even kissed her before I raced off to work. I never kicked her out once I was 'finished’ with her. We hung out, watched movies and talked about adult stuff. Timothy had offered to take her to a gay club - even a gay strip club. She couldn’t wait. Odette wanted the three of us - she liked the idea of being a trio - going clubbing.Sure, she’d be sponging off me, but Timothy said I wouldn’t mind. Timothy even insisted that we both really liked her. He also told Odette that 'with all the wacky bitches in his life, he needs you’. Before this, Odette had always thought of one boy-one girl. After a few days with me, monogamy flew out the window and she honestly couldn’t recall why she’d been so hung up on it.I gave Brooke another steamy kiss, before heading to my bedroom. I bent over Odette, stroked her cheek as she looked up and smiled at me, and met her lips in a tender, caring moment. Yes, she knew she was special to me. Libra was ready to bifurcate me - verbally. Blood is so difficult to get out of clothes.Why was I going to get away with this? I banged the Trent out of Brooke - again. She could assume I was either ignoring her - Heaven forbid - or I was working up to her - a far more appealing illusion. I nearly closed my door. I wanted to hear what was going on.“Let’s go,” Libra groused.“Why don’t we see if he wants to go out to eat?” Brooke suggested, ignoring Buffy, Odette and Timothy.“We had Brazilian for lunch,” Buffy calmly informed them. It was mid-afternoon.“Oh, how was Yasmin?” Odette inquired in a friendly manner.“Are you his social director?” Libra sneered.“Oh no,” Odette chattered back. “Cáel Nyilas and I are buddies. We have a lot of sex, but mainly I hang around for the meals and company.”“Is he fucking you too?” Libra snapped.“Yes,” Buffy sighed happily. “Yes he is. It is only for this weekend. After that, I have to wait for the end of his internship.”“Damn,” Libra seethed, “Is he fucking you as well?”“No,” Timothy said regretfully. “Cáel isn’t even bi-curious, despite my dreams and fantasies.”“I guess that’s something,” Libra grumbled. Right then I stepped out, looking all male-scrumptious. For guys, imagine a D-Cup tanned blonde, in a midriff exposing damp, white t-shirt, no bra, and red bikini bottoms. This is pretty much how most women demean me in their libido clouded minds. I’ve never actually felt demeaned by this.I mean, if the opposite sex finds me sexy, do I really care if that’s going to be the limit of them getting to know me? I think not. By the way, for all you curvaceous blondes out there who gripe and groan about men only seeing you as sex objects - really? That bothers you? Do this - tease them the say 'now sit there and listen to what I have to say, or no nookie for you’.Talk away. Will they understand you? No, but then very few of us understand Stephen Hawking either. Consider yourself in a select group that includes the smartest human on the planet. That guy/girl on their knees before you pleading for intimate contact? They will agree with you in a heartbeat. Congrats - you are a genius.I also don’t mind. If women stopped wanting sex, I doubt my life would not be worth living. Less I be allowed to savor a victory, there was a knock at the door. I headed that way.“Oh yeah - Cáel,” Timothy called out. “Nikita called and said she was going to stop by.” And here I was with two sexually dressed (it was hard for Libra and Brooke to not look sexy) hotties, plus Odette and a Havenstone Stormtrooper in my crib.Had I whispered for Odette to go hide in Timothy’s room, she would have hopped to it. Had I fell on my knees, begged, pleaded and was shown to be speaking the Words of God, Libra and Brooke wouldn’t have moved an inch. Fortunately (?) this happens to me a great deal.“Hey Nikita,” I gave her a sleepy smile. I started to usher in my policewoman/somewhat-girlfriend.Yes, I was acting like nothing was going on, much less like I’d done something wrong. I was aided in this by the fact that the sex had all been shower-based, thus not odiferous. This wasn’t a great plan, or even a good plan. It was a weak plan, in fact - rather desperate and last ditch.“Hi,” Nikita scanned the room.“Who is this bimbo?” Libra insulted both Nikita and me.“New York City Policewoman Nikita Kutuzov,” Niki snapped back. “Who the fuck are you?”“That’s Libra Chalmers,” Odette spoke up when the two girls wouldn’t. “Her sister and Cáel Nyilas were friends at college.”“The raven-haired woman is Brooke Lee and her boyfriend was a total douche and made work difficult for Cáel Nyilas and life horrible for her,” Odette finished. That was so sweet of her - it was almost 'me’-like.“Are either of you Havenstone?” Niki studied them.“That would be me,” Buffy spoke up. Since she wasn’t dressed like a desperate cry for sex (like the other three women), Nikita hadn’t truly soaked her in yet. For starters, Buffy was clearly older than the rest.“Do you have any weapons on you?” Niki glared.“Yes - do you want to see my Concealed Weapon permits?” Buffy remained serene.“Nice and slow,” Niki told Buffy as her hand came to rest on the grip of her 9 mm. Nikita was off-duty so this was an awkward situation.“You have girlfriends with guns?” Brooke gasped. She seemed excited. Libra was uncertain.Nikita being Nikita, she took Buffy’s word for nothing, using her cellphone to call in and check the three permits - gun, knife, knife. She wanted to card everybody, but I nixed that. These were my house guests. I put my foot down. Niki became truly angry with me.“I need to talk to you - outside,” Nikita insisted. I didn’t hesitate to go with her.By outside, she meant to her car because she was sure my place was under surveillance. She was most likely right. As soon as I put my ass on the passenger seat, Nikita wrapped me in a smothering embrace.“I’ve been so worried about you,” she sniffled.No, Nikita wasn’t brain damaged, or forgiving. She knew that if I hadn’t already had sex with some, if not all, of the four women in my place, I most likely would in the next 36 hours. Don’t forget that she knew I was a philanderer, had come to grips with that, and was beginning to count up my allowed indiscretions before she finally gave up on my worthless ass.“You shouldn’t do that, Nikita,” I hugged her tightly to me. “You have a freaking dangerous job and I’m a big boy. I’ll deal with my work problems. You deal with yours and we take what time together as we can.”“This is not how the World is supposed to work,” she mumbled.“There are two ways of looking at it, Nikita,” I stroked her hair. “Peace is merely the interruption of the otherwise endless cycle violence, or life is a constant struggle to avoid the inevitable slide into anarchy.”“For such a loving, joyous man, you have a terribly dark side to you,” Nikita looked into my eyes.“I read this in a book on the philosophy of social collapse - Imagine that last legionnaire standing atop Hadrian’s Wall, his companions ready to march away yet knowing the Picts remained just out of sight, waiting for the last guardians to depart,” I recalled. “Did he contemplate that, despite generations of sacrifice, nothing had change, or did he realize that, with their lives, those fellow soldiers bought centuries of peace to an otherwise war-torn land?”“Nikita, no victory is permanent,” I explained. “One day the lights will go out in this city and never come back on. One day everything you’ve worked for will fall. That doesn’t mean what you are doing doesn’t have value, or that I don’t appreciate what you do. Every life you save is still precious - it is invaluable to that person, if no one else.”“Every day you take up the badge and gun means hundreds of others get to live their lives wrapped up in the illusion they live in a lawful society,” I said. “I say 'illusion’ because people tend to not understand that nothing lawful is permanent. They don’t understand that one day that last legionnaire will be looking out over their neighborhoods. It is inevitable.”“Is that why you don’t give a crap about any of your relationships - is this the excuse that you use to cheat - that nothing is ever permanent?” Nikita’s gaze hardened.“Remind me to never be honest with you again,” I opened the door. Yeah, I was pissed. I’d broken my rule - lie to make the girl happy - and this is what it got me.“Damn it,” Nikita yanked on my arm, not letting me leave, “Cáel Nyilas, what am I supposed to think after you tell me that?” I hesitated. I hated honesty.“I don’t give a crap about some nebulous, transitory victory, Nikita,” I kept looking away. “I don’t see monogamy as pointless any more than I feel law enforcement as pointless.”“That doesn’t mean I want to be a cop, or in only one relationship. My Dad loved my Mom. He never dated after she died. He loved me and raised me the best he could. That is one of the best examples of monogamy I’ve ever witnessed. It simply isn’t me,” I told her. “Of greater relevance is my initial comment about the value of victory.”“You think you can 'fix’ my situation; that somehow the rule of law can apply to people who live outside of it,” I turned around. “That isn’t happening. You are more likely to convict every banker that had a hand in the 2008 housing loan collapse than you are to ever bring a single senior Havenstone employee up on any charges.”“It is wrong,” Nikita insisted. “I’m not being naive. No criminal conspiracy is ever impenetrable.”“They are not a criminal conspiracy,” I sighed. “They are a nation-state without demarcated borders. Criminals are fixated on making money.”“Havenstone uses money as part of their arsenal to get what they want,” I said.“What is that?” Nikita.“I’ll never tell you,” I put our faces within millimeter of each other.“Cáel, I want to help you,” Nikita persisted.“You can’t, Nikita,” I stared. “Rome calls and you will obey. It is who you are. It is what I like about you. It also means you won’t break the law for me, which means, in the terms of rescue, you are useless to me as anything except a friend. Personally, I suggest you appreciate the next 70 days with me, then find someone who will take care of you, marry them and raise the next generation of policemen and women.”“Are you a police officer?” she altered her approach.“No,” I played along.“Then don’t assume you know what I can and can’t accomplish,” Nikita grew fierce. “Al-Qaeda thought they were untouchable too. As did the KKK and the Mafia.”“Right, Nikita, except there are still terrorists, violent racists and organized crime - different faces but the same hydra,” I relayed. “That is what I’m trying to tell you - these ladies are not conventional criminals. They are not going to flip on each other. They aren’t afraid of drone attacks, wiretaps, or video surveillance.”“If the Justice Department goes after them, they’ll strike back. Don’t think assassinations and bombings - think 'Tail-hook’ and 'Fast and Furious’. The problem is they already know what rules you play by and how law enforcement works. You won’t be able to get your side to understand how Havenstone works until it is too late,” I stressed.“Your side? We are your side, Cáel Nyilas,” Nikita insisted.“No, you are not,” I responded. “My side wants to deal with this himself, only risking his life and earnestly not wanting to have my actions resulting in hundreds, if not thousands, of deaths. Your gang wants to enforce the law and turn this problem into a nice, tidy bundle. Making twenty arrests and confiscating a few million in assets will not make Havenstone go away.”“They will fade back into the shadows and then wreck vengeance upon you all when it is convenient for them,” I stated confidently. I had sat in on exactly one board meeting. That had been enough of an education to figure out how they operated and how long-term their planning was.They wouldn’t put a bullet into the head of the lead investigator. No, fifteen years later, while having a routine medical procedure, there would be a mix-up with his medication and he’d die. A few months later, his son, that man’s wife and two children would all be involved in a fatal car accident. Yes, they wiped out your family.My bet was they had already done something like that. They’d find a weak link in the investigative team, show him/her the evidence of past misdeeds and impress upon them that they would be next. Witness Protection? Over a twenty year old string of accidents? The fed either played ball, or waited a decade, or two, for their loved ones to start dropping.Havenstone Commercial Investments was only 22 years old. Without a doubt, there had been other incarnations built up then discarded only for some new front to take its place. As for grudges; the Amazons took it as a personal affront that an independent Hellas existed today, despite the reality that those Greeks had little lineage in common with the Greeks from the time of Achilles.The conundrum was I couldn’t use the word 'Amazons’, or refer to the board meeting. I couldn’t talk about the armory, Buffy, or Desiree’s backgrounds, or truly impress upon Nikita the absolute level of fanaticism Havenstone engendered in their congregation. If I hinted at it, she’d think of Jonestown, not the Karen Insurgency in Burma.“Why do you have such faith in them, but not in your own law enforcement?” Nikita pleaded.“Training, fanaticism, the ability to act with few restrictions, and their willingness to let a member who makes a mistake to live and learn from it instead of being sacrificed for political and popular expediency,” I counted off my points.“They prepare for war, not peacekeeping,” I clarified. “By that, I mean that each standard office worker is the equivalent of a soldier in any fully modern armed force. For whatever cause you and your fellow NYPD believe in, there is also a long history of corruption. There is none of that at Havenstone. Infighting - yes. They would never betray the principles of their organization though.”“You work under the scrutiny of the judicial system, a normally hostile press and a special panel whose sole duty is to keep your law enforcers in line. They work for superiors who give them far more latitude,” I continued. “A Havenstone breaks an external law, the get assigned elsewhere. Violating their internal code of conduct is harsh and immediate then resolved.”“You screw up, and you are pilloried in the press, abandoned by your superiors and shunned by your peers as if you had a contagion,” I sighed. “The NYPD loses you as a resource because of one mistake. Despite the numerous advantaged of living in a Democratic Republic and a capitalist economy, the underlying weaknesses remain.”“People are people, thus flawed. Office-seekers need money and to be scandal-free to get elected which has become a continuous process,” I stated. “Those realities allow entities like Havenstone to exist in a parasitic relationship with our society. Face it, why pay $100 million in fines, duties and taxes when you can pay $1 million in campaign contributions.”“You are so damn cynical,” Nikita frowned.“Nikita,” I huffed. “No, I’m not cynical. I’m a romantic realist. I know the score. Despite that, I still chose to make my own way in the world. I don’t date a woman expecting a 'Happily Ever After’. I also never make a plan to leave a lady. It happens regularly enough and it is my fault most often, yet it has never been my intention to avoid permanence.”“I don’t understand you at all!” she yelled. This was expected. This was her prodding me into having some frenzied, 'make me forget about the cruelty of the World’ sex.“Nikita, if I did chose to break the law, I wouldn’t be caught because there is some cop out there better than me. If I was caught, it would be that the cops have tons more resources than I possess,” I explained.“I’m not even criminally inclined and I can beat the system. This doesn’t mean I plan to break the law. I have no reason to. In the same way, I won’t surrender because I don’t have to. I’m still alive and have a degree of freedom,” I told her. “It is because I know the score that I can fight with hope. I have spent the last four years not living the easy life - the safe life.”“I have the scars to prove it, along with no regrets, because I am me - the man I want to be,” I smiled. “So what that I work for killers - they are hot and most of them are willing. The unwilling ones I’ll bring around eventually - I always do.” Now she wanted to pepper spray, Taser, baton beat and pistol whip me - all at the same time. Sex.“I keep asking myself why I care about you,” Nikita wailed. “I don’t even know why I came over today. I should have known you would have at least one woman in your apartment. I could have waited for you to return a single damn phone call…but No, I had to drive over and have you stomp on my heart instead.”“I don’t know how to reply to that,” I mused. I did, but drawing it out was important. “My life is a nightmare. It will most likely end in tragedy. If I loved you, I would send you away in a loud, vocal breakup that would convince Havenstone we were done and that would be that. My problem is I like…I selfishly want to know you better and I resonate with you like no other.”When you are the bad guy and she knows you are the bad guy, play the bad guy. See, if I was a good guy, I would sacrifice of myself and send her away. Instead, I was 'selfish’ and I was selfish because we 'resonated’. Resonate is a good, romantic word. Its definition is a bit shady, thus she can interpret it the way she desires.Before you hate me more than you already do, please recall that I really liked Nikita. She was special to me. Unfortunately, 'special’ has sort of a nebulous meaning for me. To put that in perspective, my heart is a five year old child in a toy story. It goes 'get that one, get that one’ without explaining to me exactly why I end up doing what I do.“I want you so much,” she groused, hating herself for her naked desire.“Let’s go back to my place and make love,” I suggested. She jerked slightly.“What about all those other women?” she questioned.“Odette is a dear friend, Buffy is my bodyguard and the other two showed up all on their own,” I informed her.“I like Libra and Brooke well enough, but the attraction is purely sexual (it better damn be all it is). I hope we have something more,” I said. I could even make honesty my bitch, it seemed.“Fine. Let’s go before I regain my sanity,” Nikita declared. It doesn’t take a NASA mission control officer to know that really means 'fuck me now - I’ve soaked my panties’.Nikita was hopping up and down on the balls of her feet by the time we exited her car and made it around to her/street side. She grabbed my hand and yanked my unresisting form hurriedly back to my apartment. We nearly crashed into Buffy who had been watching from the door. Nikita flashed an embarrassed look.That didn’t stop her from bounding up the stairs three at a time as we raced up to my place. Nikita was slowing down on the final approach only to have Odette open the door and stand aside - Buffy had phoned her. In we swept. Libra and Brooke rose from the sofa, I gave them an apologetic look before Nikita drew me into the bedroom. I slammed the door shut.“What the Hell!” Libra screamed. What can I say? When I truly set out to fuck a girl, I leave them wanting more. Before you think I’m an egotist, or a Sex God, it is they want to have sex with me, not that they care about what I want. I’ve been jumped while putting gas in a friend’s car by a girl, whose name I couldn’t recall at the moment, who I had banged in a bar’s men’s room.Midway through that encounter (we were standing up, my back against the car, and her legs spread up and wide as she coasted down from her first orgasm), she confided in me she’d been running around with a condom in her pocket in hopes of finding me - which proved she didn’t really know me - I always have a condom.I even have some stashed in my bathroom & kitchen - just in case. After that, for the rest of my college career the Kwiki Mart attendant kept smirking at me - the gas pumps had video surveillance. My friend and his date were amused too. My date - less so. Maybe I should have stopped at the first orgasm. It turned out okay.See, unknown to anyone at the start, the girl’s (Genevieve it turned out) boyfriend and I had been in a skiing accident and the poor bastard had suffered frostbite dragging me to safety, so I owed Genevieve big time. Yes, my date bought that hastily conjured excuse. All was right with the world and I ended up screwing my date that night and for the next two weeks.That relationship fell apart when three different servers at a Hooters gave me lap dances (who knew - Hooters girls don’t normally give lap dances). I swear to God I had never been there before - the truth didn’t work that time either. That wasn’t too bad. It reminded me of Genevieve. I went back to the bar and nailed her again. In case it matters, I don’t have a fake ID. I lie to the DMV about where I live. It is all official-like, if completely illegal.Back to my current official; a rapid analysis of the kaleidoscope of emotions. Lust, fear and confusion battled for dominance. I had to take into account her sexual background, parenting, and personal let downs. I had to give her something she didn’t want. No, I wasn’t going against my tried and true strategy. I had to give Nikita something she didn’t want yet really needed.She began trying to strip off her clothes. Off went her faded denim jacket (despite the heat in NYC in the early summer) then her short-sleeved shirt. Poor Nikita - her nice, gossamer white bra was obviously new - that crisp, pure white doesn’t come from Tide, and she had marks from the first bra she’d put on today. Off went the gun…and the cuffs.I had kicked off my shoes and so quickly pulled down my pants it burned my skin. The policewoman was drinking up my Nikita-inspired arousal so I was able to strip off my shirt too. She began working down her pants and undies in one motion when I jumped her.“Hey wait,” she giggled. She became a tad more annoyed when I wouldn’t relent.With her pants and panties still above her knees, I slipped on a condom, rolled her over and began slapping my cock against her sopping wet cunt.“I don’t want to do it this way,” Nikita insisted angrily. “Let me up.”“I can’t wait,” I grunted as I penetrated her doggy-style. In I went. Nikita’s love box was best described at intimately velvet.“Girr…Girr…ah,” she finally gave into her arousal. “Ah - ah - aha.” That brought me to a halt. I wove my arms around her waist and drew her back to my chest.“Are you ready to have sex because you want it instead of doing it because you don’t know what else to do?” I whispered in her ear. She twisted her head around. Words failed her so we kissed.“Can I take my pants off now?” sighed happily.“I don’t know. I kinda like you like this,” I replied.“I can barely move,” she protested.“That would be a point in my favor,” I snickered. Nikita got back at me by wiggling in my lap. Yeah, that put me in my place alright. Changing our orientation was part of my instinctual reaction to her desire for a close visual connection. The whole face down/ass up was only a trick to erase her confusion.Keeping my cock deep inside of Nikita, I twisted her around until she was on her back, her bound legs resting on my crooked right elbow. Curse me, Nikita looked up at me consumed by bliss. There is disappointment, settling for what you’ve got, getting what you want and finally, being giving something you never considered yet now you wonder how you lived so long without.This wasn’t only a 'good dicking’. It was the revelation that my life was a total train wreck and for a crusader like Nikita, I was virtually the Holy Grail. I would never 'not be in trouble’ thus constantly in need of saving. To her, I had transformed into the perfect boyfriend. I could never run away, or be saved by anyone else but her. Oh - and I was giving her a terribly good dicking.“Better?” I murmured. Nikita nodded. My rod kept up steady, moderately powerful penetrations. “Is there anything I can do to make it better?” Trick question.“No,” she purred. “I like…this is wonderful…I thought you would be different.” She was one happy camper. She had anticipated a domination play.“I’d only be rough with you if that’s what you wanted,” I pressed her legs farther down so that are faces were very close.“Mmmm…are you ever going to stop seeing those other girls?” she poised. She was no longer angry. Perfect boyfriend plus fantastic intercourse.I’m always doing stuff that makes women act in bizarre and unexpected (to them) ways. Won’t ever do anal? You’ll be ambushing me in the tub and working that ass down my pole inside of two weeks. Trust me. Odette hooking up with Buffy? Been down that road before.“I’ve only got 70 days left, Nikita,” I groaned. “They are going to force me to put out at work.”“I might as well try to make love to the women I care for,” I told her. No, they weren’t going to make me put out at work unless I made

Patching things up with Yasmin & Nikita plus complications.By FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the podcast at Steamy Stories.-Strength is equal parts Body and the Mind, but true strength comes from a relentless Spirit.-(Late Saturday Morning)“Why is she here?” Yasmin asked me, giving a nod toward Buffy. Buffy was a good ten meters away, technically fulfilling her duty as my bodyguard. Yasmin had agreed to meet me at a park.“Her name is Buffy Dubois and she’s my bodyguard for the weekend,” I explained. “At least I’m back at my apartment.”“What happens with her if you don’t go back to work Monday?” Yasmin inquired. “Does your ‘bodyguard’ kill you?”“Nah, not Buffy,” I gave a lop-sided grin. “My co-workers believe in overkill. I bet they’ll send at least three to make it nice, swift and quiet.”“Why do you joke about this?” Yasmin studied me.“As opposed to what?” I chuckled. “Lashing out is futile. Running isn’t much better. I chose to fight when I must, love when I can and laugh when I should be crying.”“Do you think they will come after me?” she murmured.What Yasmin really wanted to know was if her 3-year old son was in danger. From everything I’d learned and seen about Yasmin, she was tough as nails. I had given this some serious thought. I couldn’t read Katrina’s, or Hayden’s minds, so I had to go on my limited experience. Yasmin had seen and heard a great deal yet Elsa let her walk away, and that had definitely been Elsa’s doing.Elsa was the worst kind of racial Supremacist - the benevolent one. She didn’t base her status on some pseudo-scientific mumbo-jumbo. She based it on the feats of her ancestors, the training she had endured and the devotion she and her sisters dedicated to their craft - violence. She was better than the rest of humanity because she could kill us if she desired and take what she wanted.We had what we had, even our lives, because she allowed it and she had no orders to the contrary. That was her generosity - her benevolent act.“Might,” I sighed. “If I fuck up my balancing act, they might use you to hurt me, or as an object lesson.” Yasmin’s face clouded with anger.“Why did you invite me over if you thought things would develop this way?” Yasmin glared.“Not being insane, I cannot fathom the minds of the insane,” I reasoned. “As soon as I find a way around one challenge, they throw up something new. I certainly didn’t know there was a 'members only’ facility along with a gym for the rest of us peons.” She looked down at her hands.“They really are some kind of crazy cult,” she muttered. She sighed. “You can’t get out and now they know I exist…this is screwed up. What are we going to do?” She could be referring to herself and her son, or herself and me.“I’ve got some money,” I said. “A few thousand. I can get you plane tickets and you two can take off somewhere safer than here.”“You are a real man,” Yasmin slowly smiled. What? Sensing my confusion. “You take responsibility for your actions, protect the weak and those in need, and you are brave in the face of pain and adversity. Where I come from, that is the definition of a man.”“Funny - where I come from that is the definition of bad Hollywood scriptwriting,” I grinned.“Ha,” she laughed. She’d decided to stick around and fuck me despite the specter of eminent death. She was not callous to the fate of her child. Far from it. The only ally she had in this fight was me. She’d beat the fuck out of her husband with a bullet in her shoulder. When surrounded by hostile Amazons she still struggled to get to my side.“What about your Jason Statham?” she prodded.“He’s English. Besides, I prefer Chiaki Kuriyama,” I eyebrow pumped. “There is something about a chick with cast-iron balls.”“Who?” Yasmin searched her memories.“Gogo Yubari from Kill Bill Volume 1,” I informed her. Yasmin thought that over.“That girl was clearly insane!” she thumped my chest.“Believe me, female mental health issues have never stopped me in the past,” I shrugged.“I’m beginning to think you have low standards,” Yasmin smirked.“That implies you think more of me than most women who actually know me,” I snorted.“Let’s go get something to eat. There is a place that serves authentic Acarajé and Vatapá close by,” Yasmin stood and took my hand. I went with her.“So, what are those things you mentioned?” I asked.“You’ll have to wait and find out. I owe you a few dozen surprises after what you’ve put me through,” she teased. After a few seconds, I started laughing. Yasmin was confused.“As bad as it is going to be for me, think how rough it is going to be on Buffy,” I chuckled. “As far as I know, she doesn’t even speak Portuguese, much less traveled to Brazil.”The restaurant taught me a few things. Yasmin was a regular, the men knew her and were afraid of her. A little bit of eye-ball psychology taught me that Yasmin was apparently a one woman domestic abuse arbitrator. Translation: if you were a man who hit your wife, or girlfriend, she pointed you to the closest Emergency Room after she was done with you.In Brazil, men could use the 'machismo’ defense; basically, the bitch had it coming because she threatened my manhood. In Yasmin’s New York City, machismo worked a 'little’ differently. Essentially, there wasn’t a 'straight’ Brazilian man alive who would admit that Yasmin, a woman, had beat the ever-living Hell out of them.The Brazilian ladies who stopped by introduced me to another quaint Yasmin term. It was called 'parroting’. Parroting was what happened when some butthole became a real, repeat problem. Yasmin dragged them to the roof of whatever building she found the dumbass in and threw him off - technically aiming for the closest dumpster. The men often flapped and squawked like parrots as the plummeted down, thus the term.Women were stopping by because I appeared to be an aberration - a man on a date with Yasmin. Best of all, 80% of the conversation in a language I didn’t know. The first serious question thus caught me out of the blue.“Do you date many women?” one sultry number purred.“I’m not sure I would say 'many’,” responded after some feigned concentration. “I only date women from Manhattan…and the Tri-State Area…pretty much the East Coast…and the Ohio Valley and the Mississippi Valley. I should include the Deep South…okay, maybe every women this side of the Rockies…and the West Coast…Hawaii and Alaska would be a change of pace as well.”“I’ve met some nice Asian girls,” I continued to muse, “and South America is looking real promising at the moment. At this point,” I looked over the small clique of women hanging about, “ignoring Africa, Europe, India and the Middle East would be short-sighted.”“Do you fuck as good as you exaggerate, (along with some pet name I didn’t know)?” the waitress asked. I could so do her.“No,” I sighed. “I’m a virgin boy fresh out of Catholic School and have never known the intimate touch of a woman.” For a second, they all wanted to believe that.Guys aren’t the only ones who want to 'break in’ a virgin, believe me. I’ve used the 'I’m a nervous virgin uncertain if I want to attempt sex’ mystique more than once. It is a win-win. Sexually under-confident women know they won’t be judged against any other women and when the sex becomes stellar, they think they are great teachers so they become more willing to experiment.After all, if they get it wrong, I - the young virgin - won’t know the difference. Now, it is not that I always lie. It is just that the truth doesn’t normally get me what I want. As an example, if a girl is terrible at giving a blowjob - don’t tell her that. Tell her she’s doing fine, but maybe this (a technique you know works) might feel different (i.e. better/less painful).Sure, I lied to her. Instead of making her upset and not want to continue in the art of fellatio, she learned a valuable lesson and will not only make me happy, she’ll make happy every other man she is with later. Others can keep their slavish devotion to honesty. I’d rather dispense happiness. Besides, I’ll give them other reasons to be pissed with me soon enough.“Hardly,” Yasmin laughed. “I imagine the closest you’ve come to religion is thanking God when you’ve discovered your date had a horny sister and was willing to share.”“Wow…break room talk much,” I had the decency to appear embarrassed.“Why yes,” Yasmin smirked. “Ms. Reichmann was very expressive in her recounting of your bedroom antics with her and her sister after the sister’s date passed out.”“To be fair, I hadn’t had sex all day and I was kind of wound up,” I offered up.“Do you like toying with women’s affections?” my original questioner asked.“Wha - wait,” I frowned. “You think I’m going out with Yasmin because I want to have sex with her?” Of course I was. “She’s interesting and we both practice Brazilian jujutsu.”“Why would I hunt down a studio when I found a perfectly good practitioner on the job? Plus, my work place had the sparring mats,” I explained. Remember, when lying, tell a lie your audience wants to believe. Yasmin was a feminine titan, standing alone (with her son) against a hostile male world. The women around me counted on that. Dating a hot, physically fit hunk for the purpose of sexual gratification was totally realistic.Dating me because I knew her martial arts style was far less believable, but made them happier, so they went with option B - the workout buddy.“The truth must be like gold to you,” Yasmin snickered. “It is so valuable, you hardly ever use it.” She looked at her buddies. “I have wrestled him to the mat and he was VERY interested.”“Yasmin, that wasn’t me hard. When aroused, I’m much bigger,” I pleaded.“Liar,” she smacked me in the bicep. “I need to take care of something. Don’t run off with him,” she told the girls - in English - for my benefit.Yasmin left our small table and headed for Buffy who was leaning against the wall right inside the doorway. I couldn’t overhear what they were saying. Buffy smiled, nodded and took a table.A minute later, Yasmin had ordered food for Buffy then came back my way.“Is that your girlfriend?” my waitress asked. Why she wasn’t working wasn’t clear to me.“No, she’s his bodyguard,” Yasmin interrupted.“Yes, she is,” I countered half a second later. I looked at Yasmin.“You know that woman who beat me into the ground?” I met Yasmin’s gaze. She nodded. “Well, she was giving Buffy crap for all kinds of reason; only peripherally for befriending me. I didn’t have sex with her to get back at that lady. I did it because she needed me and I needed her. After this, we can’t engage in intercourse for…71 days. It’s complicated.”“Sex with you is some sort of gift?” another one taunted.“Absolutely,” I grinned. “Ask every other woman I’ve been with. Hell, they love me so much, when we break up they normally take some sort of weapon to me, books being the most popular, but I’ve been shot at, stabbed, punched, slapped and wracked too.”There was a moment of silence. Yasmin had her own war story that was well known.“I’ve seen him naked,” Yasmin’s smile cut through the tension. “He has the scars to prove it.”“You peeked when we were changing?” I gasped. I wasn’t really all that surprised.“Yes,” she snickered. “They only have Women’s changing rooms where Cáel works,” she related to the other ladies. The conversation may have flipped back to Portuguese yet the words were definitely descriptive. Either that, or my penis had slipped passed my zipper and the buttons on my shirt had burst off exposing my broad chest and rock hard abs.Yasmin looked at me and said, “É o meu P.A.” The girls all laughed.“Anyone going to clue me in on the joke?” I requested. By mutual consensus, they agreed not to - bitches. For a while, this man had been yelling from the kitchen. If finally dawned on me, and our waitress, the cook had been calling her to pick up her orders.I could have ignored her short denim skirt and seductive sway of the hips, but that would have been disingenuous. Besides, in some cultures, if your 'man’ wasn’t noticing the women around you, he was somewhat less of a man. I unleashed my inner 'machismo’ and oinked. Yasmin shoved me while laughing. The other women found my being distracted amusing as well.I could really get used to Brazilian culture especially when that included Brazilian women. After lunch, we picked up Buffy on the way out. Buffy 'thanked’ Yasmin - in Portuguese. Mother-fucker. That was so unfair. Never one to miss an opportunity to make a bad situation better - or worse, I asked Buffy what 'É o meu P.A.’ meant.Buffy said something to Yasmin in Portuguese. Yasmin responded. They both laughed - bitches.“It is a term of endearment,” Buffy assured me. Sure it was. That is why neither one would tell me what it meant - I repeat yet again; bitches.[FYI: 'É o meu P.A.’ (P.A. stands for Pinto Amigo) literally means 'my friend Penis (or) my penis friend’. In Brazilian Portuguese slang (many thanks to a buddy from Portugal who saved me from a grievous linguistic error) this is a term of sexual endearment indicating trust and a sexual history, but don’t tell Cáel that.]Yasmin and I walked a ways before she had to head in a different direction. We kissed. I kept my hands firmly on her hips like a good boy. She put her hand down my pants and stroked my cock for about a minute, in public.“Next time, I think we have sex,” Yasmin winked before departing. I watched her walk away until she vanished in the crowd. She didn’t look back. She was far too confident.“Well, she seems nice,” Buffy caught me off-guard. She’d snuck up while I was watching Yasmin and she was still being so horribly friendly to me. Best of all, she assured me she’d be back to her normally aggressive self-come Monday morning - right about the time I finally got used to her being nice to me.“Yeah…she is,” I sighed.“What’s wrong?” Buffy inquired compassionately.“What do you mean?” I stared evenly at Buffy. “Hanging out with me could get her killed, that’s what’s wrong.”“That’s not likely to happen,” Buffy to reassure me. I shook my head.“I’d ask you if you were nuts, but I know you are nuts,” I grunted. “Elsa wouldn’t kill you yet she’d kill Yasmin and her son without batting an eye if she felt a severe lesson was in order. Buffy, you work for animals. We both do. The difference being that you are one.”“I don’t think you appreciate how popular you are with the company,” Buffy insisted. “You’ve worked really hard to impress them and they value your efforts.” I screamed to the Heavens. Elsewhere, I would have drawn some serious looks. In NYC, I barely drew any notice.“Yeah - great. Remind me to clap like a pet seal Monday morning. Buffy, you, Katrina and a few others are grinning, thinking you’ve made great strides on this New Directive and the crime for a security guard shooting me as I walk in the office every day is the same - a transfer to someplace less pleasant. Correct me if I’m wrong,” I laid into her.“The difference is that they don’t want to shoot you,” Buffy countered.“Wow, if you put 'you-Buffy’ in place of 'you-Cáel’ you will realize how inconsequential that is,” I informed her. “I’m a human being - unless I’m in Havenstone. Inside, my well-being is based solely on your sufferance - just like a test monkey.”“If you really empathized, you would realize the only other people that walk around think 'gosh, I shouldn’t murder that person today’ are serial killers. Yet you expect me to be thankful for tap dancing faster than you shoot at my feet. You have this happy dream that I’ve accomplished anything,” I shook my head.“In 71 days one of you is going to kill me - that is the reality I’m staring down,” I gazed at her.“Why do you think we’ll turn on you then?” Buffy actually appeared upset.“Havenstone has been letting me play with this '84 Day’ fiction because it amuses all of you,” I took a deep breath. “Whatever I can do in the last 71 days of my life probably won’t matter.”“You’ve made a difference with Aya and Oneida,” Buffy rallied.“Great, I saved the life of someone who would stab me in the heart if I slapped her,” I countered. “As for Aya…I dread to think what she will go through when she figures out you’ve put me down like a rabid dog. I help her because I have to try, because the rest of you have written her off.”We walked the rest of the way to the apartment in silence.“Katrina is not going to like the results of our little chat,” Buffy mumbled. I laughed.“Buffy, she knows. When the time comes she’s sending Elsa to take me alive. I don’t know how I’m going to beat her. It is one of the thousand, or so, things I’m working on,” I chuckled.“I know Katrina better than you do,” Buffy rolled her eyes. “I think you under-estimate her affection for you.”“I don’t doubt her affection for me,” I told Buffy. “I simply deem it to be valueless. Listen, it took me ten seconds to figure out what Aya needed at the Archery range.”“Not a God-damn person who knew her their entire lives would have ever done what I did,” I continued. “It wasn’t that they didn’t understand what needed to be done - show a little faith in her. It was that none of them would have ever had the humanity to do it. Katrina could think the Sun rises and sets on me. It doesn’t change a damn thing that happens in 71days.”I neglected to say that Katrina murdered/dueled her own grandmother to bring Desiree into the Epona fold. That was the head of her household. I wasn’t an Amazon, or even a woman. Buffy was making shit up to keep the insanity of her life at bay. Oh, she’d kill me if Katrina gave the order. She’d hate herself for it. That wouldn’t do me a damn bit of good though.(Saturday Afternoon and then some)Our conversation died for two reasons as I led the way into my apartment. First off, it was Havenstone business and neither one of us was foolish enough to talk about it in front of Timothy and Odette. The other reason would have been Brooke and Libra sitting on Timothy’s sofa. Those two stood up as we entered.“Hi…” I got to say.“We just came around to tell you that you are an…” Libra spat but then, “Which one is this?”“You could have called first,” I snapped back. I reached for my phone…which wasn’t there. Odette sheepishly lifted my phone up from her side. I imagine that bitch had been ringing off the hook since my departure.There was a major bitch-fest coming down the pipeline. I wasn’t going to let that happen. There is an advantage to people having a low opinion of you. It gives you the unspoken permission to act like a crass asshole whenever you feel like it.“This lady is Buffy Dubois and she’s my bodyguard for the weekend,” I tried to sound bored.“Listen, the restaurant we went to was long on sizzling hot food and short on ceiling fans, so I’m going to take a shower,” I callously stated. “Brooke, want to join me?” No, Brooke didn’t want to join me. She wanted to rip my hair out in large, painful clumps. She was the Princess and I was the bottom feeder with dirt under my fingernails (huge salary be damned).“No, I don’t want to shower with you, you Jerk!” Brooke snarled. Sadly, now I was making poor use of my loyal Odette. Such is life. “We only stayed long enough to give you a piece of our minds.”“I’ll come with you!” Odette peeped. She had been on the floor, back to the small space of wall between the workout alcove and the door to my bedroom.Timothy was leaning on the portion of the living room wall next to the short hall that led to the bathroom and his bedroom. He seemed more and more amused as the encountered unfolded.“No,” Brooke squalled. “I’m not done with him yet.” She followed me to the bathroom. Now normally, I would get a towel from the bathroom, go to my bedroom to strip down then return to the bathroom for a shower, or soak in the tub.This time I went straight to the bathroom. Brooke had built up a good head of steam, I slammed the door shut the second she came in. She was about to unload some truly spectacular vitriol on me. That wasn’t the game plan. I shoved Brooke into the door and pressed my lips against hers, conveying my deep desire for her and dowsing her rage.“No, you don’t…” she got out. Game plan.“God Brooke, I’ve been worried sick about you. Have you been holding up okay?” I turned on the concern. This is what she wanted to hear. I wasn’t indifferent to her emotional state. In fact, I was so wrapped up in her Brooke’s turmoil I was nearly paralyzed into inactivity.These are the words that Brooke wanted. What mattered to Brooke most was Brooke, followed up by how much Brooke mattered to other people.“I - ah,” she mumbled before we kissed once more. This time she was hungry and passionate. She had reaffirmed that I was in her 'corner’.Now she could get down to the real reason she’d shown up to a place where some middle class guy who didn’t return her phone calls lived - sex.“Work's been a mess since Trent jumped ship and took that promotion,” I grumbled, still focused on giving Brooke oral stimulation. “The important thing is how have you been recovering? How have you been coming along?”Seduction is multi-layered. Know your partner; not just their erogenous zones, but their likes, dislikes, mindset and goals. Thus I used words like 'Trent jumped ship’ and 'promotion’ to fixate Brooke’s anger on Trent, not me. He deserved it. Also, I used 'recovering’ and 'coming along’ to insinuate that Brooke - strong Brooke - was getting through this trauma all on her own, so now she could let me help her and not be in a weak, desperate position.All that led up to Brooke justifying to herself that she could let me ravish her in the shower without her looking like some insecure, post-breakup slut. The first words that came to mind were 'Pound Puppy’ though 'Pound Kitty’ was more apropos. I was nice, tender, gentle and loving as I drew her into the tub with the shower on.She cuddled against my chest, got off a few tears - mainly for my benefit to express how much she still needed comforting. Then I began tearing her up. I went VOA this time out - vagina, oral, anal - and she had no doubt that I was FUCKING her, capital 'F’. She was no Chalmers’ girl, but she certainly spared no expense on the screams, howls and caterwauls as I ripped piece after sensual piece off of her; body and soul. Thankfully I keep six condoms beneath the shampoo dispenser.It is indicative of the state of disrepair of our apartment building that the water heater didn’t exhaust the water supply and turn cold - it turned lukewarm. More screwing for Brooke and me. When she finally came crashing down from her trash pile of depression, self-doubt and rage over a world that had suddenly stopped making sense, I cut off the water, held her tight, and exited us from the tub.Both being players, Timothy and I had stocked up on nice, plush terry-cloth towels. Nothing builds up a mood for a repeat performance like drying off in a really comfy towel, or kills it faster than being wrapped up in some rag. I partially dried off Brooke because she was still craving close, romantic contact.Again, the most important person in the room was Brooke, and by attending to her, I was reinforcing that. I even stopped what I was doing to watch her put her underwear, socks then pants back on. She loved it. Then Brooke began looking around the small space for her bra. I had been hiding it behind my back. I revealed it, avoided having her swipe it back then used one finger to beckon her forward.Her resistance was enough to assert her independence, but not enough to dampen the sensuous course of events. She stepped forward, I tapped my lips indicating she had to kiss me to get back her undergarment. Brooke faux-resisted then kissed me. Then she French kissed me. I gave her bra back, still she pushed her body against mine, kissing away.She gave up the oral gratification when she wanted to give it up. She was the one in command, she asserted that by giving me what I wanted, so I was okay with things. She kept radiating her confidence as I kept very still, looking her over as she finished putting on her clothes. I cannot stress this enough: give the girl what she wants.There was absolutely no difference between lashing Rhada, instructing Odette in sensuality, finger fucking Elsa, upping my game to the highest levels with Buffy and going at Brooke in a romantic-aggressive style. Oh yeah, it is rarely productive to actually ask a girl what she wants. Most of the time they want to please you, so they’ll lie.Lie better than they do and read what their body likes. Go from there. That was another gift from my mentor. When she was teaching me ancient love poetry, literature and culture, she was doing more than that. She was teaching me how to read women, get inside their minds and make them happy with things they may not even acknowledged they liked. God, I miss her.We/she decided that graduation was the end of the road for our romantic journey. She’d find another young man in need and start over. I would go out in the world and spread the passion and love, my fidelity failings be damned. Libra wasn’t far from being a happy camper when Brooke and I came back out of the bathroom, one arm around Brooke’s waist, the other holding my clothes and me in a towel.“Woot!” Odette, sitting on the floor once more, fist-pumped. “You knocked it right out of the ballpark.” Brooke glared. Libra scowled. Odette basked in the knowledge that she was on the 'inside’ of my little world now. She didn’t have to play games. If she wanted to hang out, or have sex, she could come on over and I’d do my best to accommodate her.Odette had gone from hook-up, to fuck-buddy, to friend. She was still a girl around me with all the resulting pitfalls. That wasn’t going to go away. What she had decided was that she was getting to hang out with cool, adult people. Dating in high school had never been difficult yet in the transition to adulthood, she’d be caught in a state of limbo.One night she met this young, dark stranger and she’d decided to take a chance. Now she had a big, musclebound gay sofa-buddy who was a relatively famous tattoo artist, a woman bed companion who apparently kicked ass for a secret society of some kind (Odette wasn’t stupid) and that gorgeous, dark stranger to make love to her, to cuddle with and to wake up next to.I’d even kissed her before I raced off to work. I never kicked her out once I was 'finished’ with her. We hung out, watched movies and talked about adult stuff. Timothy had offered to take her to a gay club - even a gay strip club. She couldn’t wait. Odette wanted the three of us - she liked the idea of being a trio - going clubbing.Sure, she’d be sponging off me, but Timothy said I wouldn’t mind. Timothy even insisted that we both really liked her. He also told Odette that 'with all the wacky bitches in his life, he needs you’. Before this, Odette had always thought of one boy-one girl. After a few days with me, monogamy flew out the window and she honestly couldn’t recall why she’d been so hung up on it.I gave Brooke another steamy kiss, before heading to my bedroom. I bent over Odette, stroked her cheek as she looked up and smiled at me, and met her lips in a tender, caring moment. Yes, she knew she was special to me. Libra was ready to bifurcate me - verbally. Blood is so difficult to get out of clothes.Why was I going to get away with this? I banged the Trent out of Brooke - again. She could assume I was either ignoring her - Heaven forbid - or I was working up to her - a far more appealing illusion. I nearly closed my door. I wanted to hear what was going on.“Let’s go,” Libra groused.“Why don’t we see if he wants to go out to eat?” Brooke suggested, ignoring Buffy, Odette and Timothy.“We had Brazilian for lunch,” Buffy calmly informed them. It was mid-afternoon.“Oh, how was Yasmin?” Odette inquired in a friendly manner.“Are you his social director?” Libra sneered.“Oh no,” Odette chattered back. “Cáel Nyilas and I are buddies. We have a lot of sex, but mainly I hang around for the meals and company.”“Is he fucking you too?” Libra snapped.“Yes,” Buffy sighed happily. “Yes he is. It is only for this weekend. After that, I have to wait for the end of his internship.”“Damn,” Libra seethed, “Is he fucking you as well?”“No,” Timothy said regretfully. “Cáel isn’t even bi-curious, despite my dreams and fantasies.”“I guess that’s something,” Libra grumbled. Right then I stepped out, looking all male-scrumptious. For guys, imagine a D-Cup tanned blonde, in a midriff exposing damp, white t-shirt, no bra, and red bikini bottoms. This is pretty much how most women demean me in their libido clouded minds. I’ve never actually felt demeaned by this.I mean, if the opposite sex finds me sexy, do I really care if that’s going to be the limit of them getting to know me? I think not. By the way, for all you curvaceous blondes out there who gripe and groan about men only seeing you as sex objects - really? That bothers you? Do this - tease them the say 'now sit there and listen to what I have to say, or no nookie for you’.Talk away. Will they understand you? No, but then very few of us understand Stephen Hawking either. Consider yourself in a select group that includes the smartest human on the planet. That guy/girl on their knees before you pleading for intimate contact? They will agree with you in a heartbeat. Congrats - you are a genius.I also don’t mind. If women stopped wanting sex, I doubt my life would not be worth living. Less I be allowed to savor a victory, there was a knock at the door. I headed that way.“Oh yeah - Cáel,” Timothy called out. “Nikita called and said she was going to stop by.” And here I was with two sexually dressed (it was hard for Libra and Brooke to not look sexy) hotties, plus Odette and a Havenstone Stormtrooper in my crib.Had I whispered for Odette to go hide in Timothy’s room, she would have hopped to it. Had I fell on my knees, begged, pleaded and was shown to be speaking the Words of God, Libra and Brooke wouldn’t have moved an inch. Fortunately (?) this happens to me a great deal.“Hey Nikita,” I gave her a sleepy smile. I started to usher in my policewoman/somewhat-girlfriend.Yes, I was acting like nothing was going on, much less like I’d done something wrong. I was aided in this by the fact that the sex had all been shower-based, thus not odiferous. This wasn’t a great plan, or even a good plan. It was a weak plan, in fact - rather desperate and last ditch.“Hi,” Nikita scanned the room.“Who is this bimbo?” Libra insulted both Nikita and me.“New York City Policewoman Nikita Kutuzov,” Niki snapped back. “Who the fuck are you?”“That’s Libra Chalmers,” Odette spoke up when the two girls wouldn’t. “Her sister and Cáel Nyilas were friends at college.”“The raven-haired woman is Brooke Lee and her boyfriend was a total douche and made work difficult for Cáel Nyilas and life horrible for her,” Odette finished. That was so sweet of her - it was almost 'me’-like.“Are either of you Havenstone?” Niki studied them.“That would be me,” Buffy spoke up. Since she wasn’t dressed like a desperate cry for sex (like the other three women), Nikita hadn’t truly soaked her in yet. For starters, Buffy was clearly older than the rest.“Do you have any weapons on you?” Niki glared.“Yes - do you want to see my Concealed Weapon permits?” Buffy remained serene.“Nice and slow,” Niki told Buffy as her hand came to rest on the grip of her 9 mm. Nikita was off-duty so this was an awkward situation.“You have girlfriends with guns?” Brooke gasped. She seemed excited. Libra was uncertain.Nikita being Nikita, she took Buffy’s word for nothing, using her cellphone to call in and check the three permits - gun, knife, knife. She wanted to card everybody, but I nixed that. These were my house guests. I put my foot down. Niki became truly angry with me.“I need to talk to you - outside,” Nikita insisted. I didn’t hesitate to go with her.By outside, she meant to her car because she was sure my place was under surveillance. She was most likely right. As soon as I put my ass on the passenger seat, Nikita wrapped me in a smothering embrace.“I’ve been so worried about you,” she sniffled.No, Nikita wasn’t brain damaged, or forgiving. She knew that if I hadn’t already had sex with some, if not all, of the four women in my place, I most likely would in the next 36 hours. Don’t forget that she knew I was a philanderer, had come to grips with that, and was beginning to count up my allowed indiscretions before she finally gave up on my worthless ass.“You shouldn’t do that, Nikita,” I hugged her tightly to me. “You have a freaking dangerous job and I’m a big boy. I’ll deal with my work problems. You deal with yours and we take what time together as we can.”“This is not how the World is supposed to work,” she mumbled.“There are two ways of looking at it, Nikita,” I stroked her hair. “Peace is merely the interruption of the otherwise endless cycle violence, or life is a constant struggle to avoid the inevitable slide into anarchy.”“For such a loving, joyous man, you have a terribly dark side to you,” Nikita looked into my eyes.“I read this in a book on the philosophy of social collapse - Imagine that last legionnaire standing atop Hadrian’s Wall, his companions ready to march away yet knowing the Picts remained just out of sight, waiting for the last guardians to depart,” I recalled. “Did he contemplate that, despite generations of sacrifice, nothing had change, or did he realize that, with their lives, those fellow soldiers bought centuries of peace to an otherwise war-torn land?”“Nikita, no victory is permanent,” I explained. “One day the lights will go out in this city and never come back on. One day everything you’ve worked for will fall. That doesn’t mean what you are doing doesn’t have value, or that I don’t appreciate what you do. Every life you save is still precious - it is invaluable to that person, if no one else.”“Every day you take up the badge and gun means hundreds of others get to live their lives wrapped up in the illusion they live in a lawful society,” I said. “I say 'illusion’ because people tend to not understand that nothing lawful is permanent. They don’t understand that one day that last legionnaire will be looking out over their neighborhoods. It is inevitable.”“Is that why you don’t give a crap about any of your relationships - is this the excuse that you use to cheat - that nothing is ever permanent?” Nikita’s gaze hardened.“Remind me to never be honest with you again,” I opened the door. Yeah, I was pissed. I’d broken my rule - lie to make the girl happy - and this is what it got me.“Damn it,” Nikita yanked on my arm, not letting me leave, “Cáel Nyilas, what am I supposed to think after you tell me that?” I hesitated. I hated honesty.“I don’t give a crap about some nebulous, transitory victory, Nikita,” I kept looking away. “I don’t see monogamy as pointless any more than I feel law enforcement as pointless.”“That doesn’t mean I want to be a cop, or in only one relationship. My Dad loved my Mom. He never dated after she died. He loved me and raised me the best he could. That is one of the best examples of monogamy I’ve ever witnessed. It simply isn’t me,” I told her. “Of greater relevance is my initial comment about the value of victory.”“You think you can 'fix’ my situation; that somehow the rule of law can apply to people who live outside of it,” I turned around. “That isn’t happening. You are more likely to convict every banker that had a hand in the 2008 housing loan collapse than you are to ever bring a single senior Havenstone employee up on any charges.”“It is wrong,” Nikita insisted. “I’m not being naive. No criminal conspiracy is ever impenetrable.”“They are not a criminal conspiracy,” I sighed. “They are a nation-state without demarcated borders. Criminals are fixated on making money.”“Havenstone uses money as part of their arsenal to get what they want,” I said.“What is that?” Nikita.“I’ll never tell you,” I put our faces within millimeter of each other.“Cáel, I want to help you,” Nikita persisted.“You can’t, Nikita,” I stared. “Rome calls and you will obey. It is who you are. It is what I like about you. It also means you won’t break the law for me, which means, in the terms of rescue, you are useless to me as anything except a friend. Personally, I suggest you appreciate the next 70 days with me, then find someone who will take care of you, marry them and raise the next generation of policemen and women.”“Are you a police officer?” she altered her approach.“No,” I played along.“Then don’t assume you know what I can and can’t accomplish,” Nikita grew fierce. “Al-Qaeda thought they were untouchable too. As did the KKK and the Mafia.”“Right, Nikita, except there are still terrorists, violent racists and organized crime - different faces but the same hydra,” I relayed. “That is what I’m trying to tell you - these ladies are not conventional criminals. They are not going to flip on each other. They aren’t afraid of drone attacks, wiretaps, or video surveillance.”“If the Justice Department goes after them, they’ll strike back. Don’t think assassinations and bombings - think 'Tail-hook’ and 'Fast and Furious’. The problem is they already know what rules you play by and how law enforcement works. You won’t be able to get your side to understand how Havenstone works until it is too late,” I stressed.“Your side? We are your side, Cáel Nyilas,” Nikita insisted.“No, you are not,” I responded. “My side wants to deal with this himself, only risking his life and earnestly not wanting to have my actions resulting in hundreds, if not thousands, of deaths. Your gang wants to enforce the law and turn this problem into a nice, tidy bundle. Making twenty arrests and confiscating a few million in assets will not make Havenstone go away.”“They will fade back into the shadows and then wreck vengeance upon you all when it is convenient for them,” I stated confidently. I had sat in on exactly one board meeting. That had been enough of an education to figure out how they operated and how long-term their planning was.They wouldn’t put a bullet into the head of the lead investigator. No, fifteen years later, while having a routine medical procedure, there would be a mix-up with his medication and he’d die. A few months later, his son, that man’s wife and two children would all be involved in a fatal car accident. Yes, they wiped out your family.My bet was they had already done something like that. They’d find a weak link in the investigative team, show him/her the evidence of past misdeeds and impress upon them that they would be next. Witness Protection? Over a twenty year old string of accidents? The fed either played ball, or waited a decade, or two, for their loved ones to start dropping.Havenstone Commercial Investments was only 22 years old. Without a doubt, there had been other incarnations built up then discarded only for some new front to take its place. As for grudges; the Amazons took it as a personal affront that an independent Hellas existed today, despite the reality that those Greeks had little lineage in common with the Greeks from the time of Achilles.The conundrum was I couldn’t use the word 'Amazons’, or refer to the board meeting. I couldn’t talk about the armory, Buffy, or Desiree’s backgrounds, or truly impress upon Nikita the absolute level of fanaticism Havenstone engendered in their congregation. If I hinted at it, she’d think of Jonestown, not the Karen Insurgency in Burma.“Why do you have such faith in them, but not in your own law enforcement?” Nikita pleaded.“Training, fanaticism, the ability to act with few restrictions, and their willingness to let a member who makes a mistake to live and learn from it instead of being sacrificed for political and popular expediency,” I counted off my points.“They prepare for war, not peacekeeping,” I clarified. “By that, I mean that each standard office worker is the equivalent of a soldier in any fully modern armed force. For whatever cause you and your fellow NYPD believe in, there is also a long history of corruption. There is none of that at Havenstone. Infighting - yes. They would never betray the principles of their organization though.”“You work under the scrutiny of the judicial system, a normally hostile press and a special panel whose sole duty is to keep your law enforcers in line. They work for superiors who give them far more latitude,” I continued. “A Havenstone breaks an external law, the get assigned elsewhere. Violating their internal code of conduct is harsh and immediate then resolved.”“You screw up, and you are pilloried in the press, abandoned by your superiors and shunned by your peers as if you had a contagion,” I sighed. “The NYPD loses you as a resource because of one mistake. Despite the numerous advantaged of living in a Democratic Republic and a capitalist economy, the underlying weaknesses remain.”“People are people, thus flawed. Office-seekers need money and to be scandal-free to get elected which has become a continuous process,” I stated. “Those realities allow entities like Havenstone to exist in a parasitic relationship with our society. Face it, why pay $100 million in fines, duties and taxes when you can pay $1 million in campaign contributions.”“You are so damn cynical,” Nikita frowned.“Nikita,” I huffed. “No, I’m not cynical. I’m a romantic realist. I know the score. Despite that, I still chose to make my own way in the world. I don’t date a woman expecting a 'Happily Ever After’. I also never make a plan to leave a lady. It happens regularly enough and it is my fault most often, yet it has never been my intention to avoid permanence.”“I don’t understand you at all!” she yelled. This was expected. This was her prodding me into having some frenzied, 'make me forget about the cruelty of the World’ sex.“Nikita, if I did chose to break the law, I wouldn’t be caught because there is some cop out there better than me. If I was caught, it would be that the cops have tons more resources than I possess,” I explained.“I’m not even criminally inclined and I can beat the system. This doesn’t mean I plan to break the law. I have no reason to. In the same way, I won’t surrender because I don’t have to. I’m still alive and have a degree of freedom,” I told her. “It is because I know the score that I can fight with hope. I have spent the last four years not living the easy life - the safe life.”“I have the scars to prove it, along with no regrets, because I am me - the man I want to be,” I smiled. “So what that I work for killers - they are hot and most of them are willing. The unwilling ones I’ll bring around eventually - I always do.” Now she wanted to pepper spray, Taser, baton beat and pistol whip me - all at the same time. Sex.“I keep asking myself why I care about you,” Nikita wailed. “I don’t even know why I came over today. I should have known you would have at least one woman in your apartment. I could have waited for you to return a single damn phone call…but No, I had to drive over and have you stomp on my heart instead.”“I don’t know how to reply to that,” I mused. I did, but drawing it out was important. “My life is a nightmare. It will most likely end in tragedy. If I loved you, I would send you away in a loud, vocal breakup that would convince Havenstone we were done and that would be that. My problem is I like…I selfishly want to know you better and I resonate with you like no other.”When you are the bad guy and she knows you are the bad guy, play the bad guy. See, if I was a good guy, I would sacrifice of myself and send her away. Instead, I was 'selfish’ and I was selfish because we 'resonated’. Resonate is a good, romantic word. Its definition is a bit shady, thus she can interpret it the way she desires.Before you hate me more than you already do, please recall that I really liked Nikita. She was special to me. Unfortunately, 'special’ has sort of a nebulous meaning for me. To put that in perspective, my heart is a five year old child in a toy story. It goes 'get that one, get that one’ without explaining to me exactly why I end up doing what I do.“I want you so much,” she groused, hating herself for her naked desire.“Let’s go back to my place and make love,” I suggested. She jerked slightly.“What about all those other women?” she questioned.“Odette is a dear friend, Buffy is my bodyguard and the other two showed up all on their own,” I informed her.“I like Libra and Brooke well enough, but the attraction is purely sexual (it better damn be all it is). I hope we have something more,” I said. I could even make honesty my bitch, it seemed.“Fine. Let’s go before I regain my sanity,” Nikita declared. It doesn’t take a NASA mission control officer to know that really means 'fuck me now - I’ve soaked my panties’.Nikita was hopping up and down on the balls of her feet by the time we exited her car and made it around to her/street side. She grabbed my hand and yanked my unresisting form hurriedly back to my apartment. We nearly crashed into Buffy who had been watching from the door. Nikita flashed an embarrassed look.That didn’t stop her from bounding up the stairs three at a time as we raced up to my place. Nikita was slowing down on the final approach only to have Odette open the door and stand aside - Buffy had phoned her. In we swept. Libra and Brooke rose from the sofa, I gave them an apologetic look before Nikita drew me into the bedroom. I slammed the door shut.“What the Hell!” Libra screamed. What can I say? When I truly set out to fuck a girl, I leave them wanting more. Before you think I’m an egotist, or a Sex God, it is they want to have sex with me, not that they care about what I want. I’ve been jumped while putting gas in a friend’s car by a girl, whose name I couldn’t recall at the moment, who I had banged in a bar’s men’s room.Midway through that encounter (we were standing up, my back against the car, and her legs spread up and wide as she coasted down from her first orgasm), she confided in me she’d been running around with a condom in her pocket in hopes of finding me - which proved she didn’t really know me - I always have a condom.I even have some stashed in my bathroom & kitchen - just in case. After that, for the rest of my college career the Kwiki Mart attendant kept smirking at me - the gas pumps had video surveillance. My friend and his date were amused too. My date - less so. Maybe I should have stopped at the first orgasm. It turned out okay.See, unknown to anyone at the start, the girl’s (Genevieve it turned out) boyfriend and I had been in a skiing accident and the poor bastard had suffered frostbite dragging me to safety, so I owed Genevieve big time. Yes, my date bought that hastily conjured excuse. All was right with the world and I ended up screwing my date that night and for the next two weeks.That relationship fell apart when three different servers at a Hooters gave me lap dances (who knew - Hooters girls don’t normally give lap dances). I swear to God I had never been there before - the truth didn’t work that time either. That wasn’t too bad. It reminded me of Genevieve. I went back to the bar and nailed her again. In case it matters, I don’t have a fake ID. I lie to the DMV about where I live. It is all official-like, if completely illegal.Back to my current official; a rapid analysis of the kaleidoscope of emotions. Lust, fear and confusion battled for dominance. I had to take into account her sexual background, parenting, and personal let downs. I had to give her something she didn’t want. No, I wasn’t going against my tried and true strategy. I had to give Nikita something she didn’t want yet really needed.She began trying to strip off her clothes. Off went her faded denim jacket (despite the heat in NYC in the early summer) then her short-sleeved shirt. Poor Nikita - her nice, gossamer white bra was obviously new - that crisp, pure white doesn’t come from Tide, and she had marks from the first bra she’d put on today. Off went the gun…and the cuffs.I had kicked off my shoes and so quickly pulled down my pants it burned my skin. The policewoman was drinking up my Nikita-inspired arousal so I was able to strip off my shirt too. She began working down her pants and undies in one motion when I jumped her.“Hey wait,” she giggled. She became a tad more annoyed when I wouldn’t relent.With her pants and panties still above her knees, I slipped on a condom, rolled her over and began slapping my cock against her sopping wet cunt.“I don’t want to do it this way,” Nikita insisted angrily. “Let me up.”“I can’t wait,” I grunted as I penetrated her doggy-style. In I went. Nikita’s love box was best described at intimately velvet.“Girr…Girr…ah,” she finally gave into her arousal. “Ah - ah - aha.” That brought me to a halt. I wove my arms around her waist and drew her back to my chest.“Are you ready to have sex because you want it instead of doing it because you don’t know what else to do?” I whispered in her ear. She twisted her head around. Words failed her so we kissed.“Can I take my pants off now?” sighed happily.“I don’t know. I kinda like you like this,” I replied.“I can barely move,” she protested.“That would be a point in my favor,” I snickered. Nikita got back at me by wiggling in my lap. Yeah, that put me in my place alright. Changing our orientation was part of my instinctual reaction to her desire for a close visual connection. The whole face down/ass up was only a trick to erase her confusion.Keeping my cock deep inside of Nikita, I twisted her around until she was on her back, her bound legs resting on my crooked right elbow. Curse me, Nikita looked up at me consumed by bliss. There is disappointment, settling for what you’ve got, getting what you want and finally, being giving something you never considered yet now you wonder how you lived so long without.This wasn’t only a 'good dicking’. It was the revelation that my life was a total train wreck and for a crusader like Nikita, I was virtually the Holy Grail. I would never 'not be in trouble’ thus constantly in need of saving. To her, I had transformed into the perfect boyfriend. I could never run away, or be saved by anyone else but her. Oh - and I was giving her a terribly good dicking.“Better?” I murmured. Nikita nodded. My rod kept up steady, moderately powerful penetrations. “Is there anything I can do to make it better?” Trick question.“No,” she purred. “I like…this is wonderful…I thought you would be different.” She was one happy camper. She had anticipated a domination play.“I’d only be rough with you if that’s what you wanted,” I pressed her legs farther down so that are faces were very close.“Mmmm…are you ever going to stop seeing those other girls?” she poised. She was no longer angry. Perfect boyfriend plus fantastic intercourse.I’m always doing stuff that makes women act in bizarre and unexpected (to them) ways. Won’t ever do anal? You’ll be ambushing me in the tub and working that ass down my pole inside of two weeks. Trust me. Odette hooking up with Buffy? Been down that road before.“I’ve only got 70 days left, Nikita,” I groaned. “They are going to force me to put out at work.”“I might as well try to make love to the women I care for,” I told her. No, they weren’t going to make me put out at work unless I made