Adventure

Kelly sat there for at least a half an hour, minding her own business. She was about to give up and leave, when a nicely dressed man with a little mustache came in and crossed the floor in her direction, looking straight at her. He moved stealthily, like a cat. He had black hair slicked back flat on his head. He was smoking a cigarette.

He sidled up to her, motioning to the bartender to bring him a drink and refill Kelly’s. He smiled at her as if she should know who he was. He seemed to expect Kelly to speak first. Instead she smirked at him and turned toward the bar. She lifted her half-empty drink to her lips, downed it, slammed the glass down on the bar upside down and said in a purposely bored sounding voice, “Gon bay.”

The bartender handed him a glass and he did the same thing. “Gon bay,” he said, slamming his glass down on the bar.

Kelly turned her head to face him. She removed her dark glasses and batted her eyes at him.

“Wu Tang?”

He looked at her with amusement. “Madam Chang?”

They both laughed.

“We’re supposed to know each other, aren’t we,” she said.

“I just know your name, and that you’re nice to look at.”

“I’ve heard that you’re pretty slick yourself.”

“I suppose you know who I am.”

“I do.” She smiled at him. “I’ll bet you want to know who I am.”

“I admit, right now, you are a mystery. I like mysterious women.”

“So I’ve heard.” She dipped the middle finger of her left hand into the drink the thoughtful bartender had just placed in front of her. She swirled it around, raised her finger to her lips and sucked it into her mouth, sucking it in and out. She closed her eyes and sensuously made love to her finger the way she would a man’s penis, faking a gentle orgasm.

Wu Tang sat there watching her, entranced. She was hardly doing anything, hardly moving, but it was like watching a porno movie. He reached out and placed his hand on her neck, kneading it gently. Kelly moaned softly in pleasure. His hand was warm and it did feel good.

She removed her finger from her mouth and swirled it around in her drink again. Kelly opened her eyes, turning to look at him. She raised her hand to his lips and slowly inserted her finger into his mouth. He was caught up in her sensual play. He sucked her finger into his mouth, savoring the alcohol and swirling his tongue around it. He closed his eyes. She slid her finger in and out, fucking his mouth with her finger.

She slowly pulled her finger back out of his mouth. He sat there with his eyes still closed for a moment. Kelly dipped her finger into her drink again and raised it to his lips again. She didn’t let him suck it into his mouth though, she made him lick the alcohol off of it.

He opened his eyes. He cleared his throat and unobtrusively shook his head as if emerging from a trance.

“Would you care to dance?”

Then, she appeared. She was carrying a large cloth bag.

“Oh, a red convertible.”

“Yeah. I just love to ride around with the top down.”

“How old is this car?” she asked as she ran her hand along the fender.

“It’s a 1954 Lincoln. It weighs about three tons and it’s faster than it looks.”

“Ooo, good. I like to go fast.” She hefted the bag. “Could I put this in the trunk?”

“Sure.” He opened the trunk and she threw the bag in. It looked like a laundry bag that Max had had when he was in the Marines.

“Dirty underwear?” he asked

She gave him a smoky look and leaned against him, putting her arm around him and tiptoeing up to whisper, “I don’t wear any underwear.” She squeezed his buttocks, then slapped his butt. “Let’s go,” she said with a laugh, and she skipped around to the passenger side and got in.

Max hadn’t seen many women where he had been stationed for the past year, especially round eyes. This hitchhiker was almost more than he knew what to do with. The girls he remembered from before he had enlisted certainly hadn’t been as forward as this. A lot must have changed since he had left for Okinawa in 1965. He knew that there was a lot of anti-war sentiment, and that there were folks called flower children whose slogan was “Make Love, Not War”. He was beginning to think that he was linking up with one of them, and wasn’t too sure how to take it.

He was proud of his service in Viet Nam. The few Vietnamese he had met had been friendly even though they were awfully poor. They seemed to be pretty much indifferent to the war, but they treated U.S. servicemen with respect and friendship. He had heard that it was different down South in the delta, but North of Hue there was a conventional war going on between the North Vietnamese army and the U.S. Third Marine Division.

He got in the car, pumped the gas pedal once, turned the key, and pressed the starter button. The big V-8 roared to life with a healthy rumble. He put it in Drive, released the brake, and headed out onto the highway. The four-speed hydramatic shifted flawlessly as the big Lincoln shot down the acceleration ramp and merged with the westbound traffic. What a beautiful day for a ride.

“I like this car,” said Anita, her hair streaming in the wind. “I might even get a little tan.”

“You don’t look like you’ve been in the sun very much yet this summer.”

“You don’t get much sun in The Village.”

“The Village?”

“Greenwich Village. In New York.”

“Oh. Are you a Beatnik?”

“Sort of. They call us Hippies now.”

“I was a Beatnik for a while, before I joined the Corps. I still carry around a copy of On The Road by Jack Kerouak. I even took it to Viet Nam with me. It’s in the glove compartment.”

“Were you a Marine?” she asked with a wide-eyed expression on her face. “You do look like you could be a killer. I don’t think much of the war. I don’t think much of anybody killing anyone else.”

“Listen, my old neighborhood in Newark is a lot more dangerous than Viet Nam was. I had a nice safe bunker to live in over there. At home, you never know who might shoot you or stab you in the alley and there seems to be more dope on the streets than I ever saw in Viet Nam.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

“Who cares? Let’s just live for the moment. I don’t care who you are or what you did. I just want to snuggle up to you.”

With that, she slid across the bench seat and leaned against him. Max put his arm around her. She was warm and soft. She licked his neck.

“What was that for?”

“Did you like it?”

He looked down at her and grinned. She snuggled closer. Then she took his right hand, slipped it under her arm and placed it on her breast. Max could tell that she hadn’t been lying about not wearing underwear--at least she apparently wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipple was hard.

“How long has it been since you had a woman?”

She watched the last missile streak over the jungle and strike the target, obliterating it.

"Look out! Look out!" screamed the voice of POPEYE, her wingman through the headphones. The warning buzzer blared at her, alerting her to an enemy missile locked on to her aircraft. "VIXEN, you've got a missile on your tail."

She wrenched the stick back and to the right. The plane responded nimbly and climbed up and to the right in a gut-wrenching 3 Gee maneuver.

Then the missile exploded. It didn't actually contact VIXEN's plane, but it was close enough, blowing the tail apart and sending the plane tumbling back down toward the jungle.

"Eject, VIXEN, eject!" yelled POPEYE.

Realizing that she only had moments to react, the pilot quickly punched the eject button. As the explosives beneath her seat exploded, the cockpit canopy flew off and the seat exited the aircraft. She hoped she wouldn't be killed by the tumbling aircraft before clearing the wreckage.

The wind almost knocked her unconscious as she was thrown clear. Then the parachute deployed, slowing her down. Suddenly it was very quiet. She looked down at the jungle. She watched as her plane crashed and exploded in a tangle of twisted metal.

She manipulated the controls of her chute, steering away from the target she had just demolished and toward a stream, just visible beneath the trees. She dropped toward the ground as quickly as she could. The sooner she got down and had a chance to hide, the more likely she could elude those on the ground and, hopefully, get picked up by a rescue helicopter.

She skillfully guided the chute between the trees and over the little stream. She swooped down over the rushing water. She lifted her legs and landed in the middle of the stream on her butt. The water was warm like the humid air. She surfaced as quickly as she could in the rushing water and stabbed her feet into the mud. The water was only about four feet deep and she stood up, all five feet, eight inches.

She hurried to strip off the chute harness and gather it into a ball. She fought her way against the current to the shallows and up the bank to dry ground. She rolled the chute into a ball and pushed it into a hollow between the roots of a tree on the bank. She covered it with some leaves, a few twigs, and a strip of moss she stripped from the ground.

She heard a dog bark. She heard voices. Someone was coming, rather noisily, through the underbrush. She slipped back into the water and out into the current, lifting her legs and drifting downstream. She pushed herself ahead by stabbing at the mud on the bottom with her boots. For rescue, she needed to stay near the plane, but to elude pursuers, she needed to get moving. She reached down to her thigh and retrieved the service pistol from its holster. She moved faster and faster as the current swept her along.

She couldn't hear the pursuers anymore, but as the current got swifter, the channel got shallower. When it got up to about two and a half feet, she stood up and waded to the bank opposite the side where she had heard the pursuers. She climbed up the bank and slipped into the dark forest. She shook the pistol to get rid of as much of the water as she could, then she pulled the slide back and chambered a round. She thumbed the safety off.

The underbrush made it difficult to move quickly, and she couldn't help leaving a trail. The flight suit hadn't kept her dry and it was soggy, slowing her down. The helmet on her head seemed heavier than it had in the cockpit. Every step she took seemed like it made too much noise. She kept listening for the sound of a pursuit, and eventually she heard it.

She looked around for a tree to climb and hide in, but there were none with branches low enough for her to reach. She hunkered down between some bushes at the edge of a small clearing and covered herself with some damp leaves.

It didn't take long. She watched as several men following her trail, entered the clearing. There were two young men, boys really, one old man, and a strong-looking man carrying an AK-47 who seemed to be in charge. It was obvious that the trail ended in the clearing. The men just couldn't tell where she was hiding.

They flailed around at the brush with sharp, wicked-looking machetes. As they came closer to her, she stood up and leveled the pistol at them. Her sudden appearance elicited an excited exchange in a language she could not understand, but they were all laughing at her.

She was suddenly hit from behind and thrown to the ground. Her attacker landed on her back as she fell face down in the mud. The pistol went flying as she had the wind knocked out of her. The attacker grabbed her arm and twisted it back into a hammerlock behind her back. She was yanked to her feet.

Another man, wearing a jungle uniform, came around from behind and stood nose to nose with her. He yelled at her incomprehensibly, his face thrust close to hers. He had bad breath. Then he yelled at her in English.

"Yankee pig!" He reached up and yanked off her helmet. As her blond hair shimmered around her shoulders, the startled man staggered back a step and the others fell silent.

"You're a woman!"

She smirked at him.

"Surprised?" she said softly.

As they continued to climb higher, the air began to thin and the trail narrowed, forcing the heaving horses to walk single file. When they finally reached the level plateau at the top, Garth stopped and waited for Kayla to draw abreast of him.

“We’ll turn off here,” he told her. “There’s a good place to camp for the night on the other side of this ridge.”

Out of breath from the climb, Kayla could only nod as she used her legs to urge Hawk onto the new trail behind the mare.

The red sun was just beginning to slip below the tree-lined horizon when the path suddenly opened into a clearing.

Hawk’s steps slowed and he would’ve stopped, but Kayla urged him on. Keeping her eyes on the high cliffs that surrounded the meadow, she cautiously scanned the rough walls for any sign that something might be lurking in their shadows.

“Don’t worry, water dragons prefer the deep, quiet waters of a lake,” Garth assured her, indicating with a nod of his head the small waterfall cascading from the rocky heights of the cliffs into a sparkling pool at its base. “The mountain streams and pools are too cold and shallow for them.”

Drawing the mare to a halt, he dismounted and waited for Kayla to drop to the ground beside her mount. “I’m going to make camp under those fir trees. Why don’t you go for a swim and get cleaned up before it gets too dark,” he told her with a meaningful look at her mud-caked form.

“That sounds like a great idea.” With more bravado than she felt, for she was very conscious of the way she must look covered in grime and wearing such scanty clothes, Kayla threw her saddlebags over one shoulder and quickly unsaddled Hawk so that he could graze with the black mare.

Finding a large, flat rock to sit on beside the pool, Kayla rummaged through her bags. She was relieved, and still puzzled, that most of her things had survived the rough trip from the orange grove. Unfortunately, one of the items that had not survived had been her spare jeans. Made partly of man-made material, they had disintegrated into mere scraps of rotted material.

Shrugging her shoulders in resignation, Kayla leaned back against a large slab of stone and removed her muddy boots and, hesitating for only a moment, she peeled off all of her filthy clothes and tossed them into a nearby water-filled stone hollow to soak.

“Well, here’s hoping that lake monsters really don’t live in the mountains,” she mumbled to herself nervously as she grabbed her bar of soap. Climbing to the top of a large boulder at the edge of the pool, she dove into the clear, green water.

Swimming under the surface, she emerged in the shallows to stand waist deep in the sun-warmed water where she vigorously and thoroughly soaped her hair and body, determined to remove the stench of dried blood and muck clinging to her.

Feeling much too tired and sluggish to dwell on the day’s strange events, Kayla rolled over and floated on her back, basking in the simple pleasure of having clean skin again. As her mind cleared and she was able to think back on the day, she was only mildly surprised that, in spite of the danger she’d encountered, she felt no particular desire to return to what was already beginning to feel like someone else’s life, or perhaps a faraway dream.

Diving to rinse the rest of the soap from her hair, Kayla chased a school of small fish along the bottom until she needed to surface to breathe. Rising, she stood and shook her long, pale mass of hair back and wiped the water from her eyes. She was studying the odd pattern of colors in the walls of stone enclosing the meadow when her gaze fell on Garth, standing naked on the same boulder she had used, preparing to enter the water.

Entranced, she stared at the beauty of his heavily muscled body, the skin dark with an all-over suntan as he prepared to dive into the water. He broke the spell when he leapt from the rock, arching into the water where he cleaved the surface so cleanly that he barely made a splash.

Suddenly remembering her own nakedness, Kayla splashed into the deeper water uttering a small shriek at its coldness.

Garth erupted from the water in front of her, his deep brown eyes brimming with laughter. “Hey, where are you going? You don’t have to leave on my account.”

“I thought you were making camp!” Uneasily, she back-paddled away from him, her arms folded protectively to hide her breasts from his gaze.

“Now, how can you swim with your arms up like that?” he laughed. His hand darted under the water and snagged one of her feet, jerking her under.

Kayla broke the surface sputtering, modesty completely forgotten as her temper flared hotly at being dunked. Taking a deep breath, she dove to the sandy bottom and used it to propel herself back to the surface. She emerged only inches from Garth’s body, bringing a tidal wave of water with her to surge over his smiling face.

Bobbing about, laughing hysterically at her prank, Kayla managed to swallow a mouthful of water and began to choke.

Wiping the water from his face with a rueful grin, Garth reached for her and slapped none too gently on her back to clear the water from her lungs.

Still hiccupping with laughter, Kayla allowed herself to remain in his arms as he held her close against his bare chest, still patting her back.

“Were you planning to drink all of the water, or are you finished now?” he laughed at her. Bending his head, he gently nuzzled her neck and kissed her small ear.

Full awareness of her compromising position striking her, Kayla stiffened in his embrace and tried to push away from him. In spite of her innocence, she knew that she had let things go too far already.

“No! We cannot do this!” She struggled desperately to escape his powerful grip. “You don’t understand,” she moaned. “Stop!”

“Don’t be afraid, little one. I won’t hurt you.” Garth held onto her firmly, continuing to cover her neck and face with kisses as he moved them into shallower water. Feeling her struggles easing, he held her more gently and claimed her mouth with his to silence her weak protests.

Kayla allowed her fears to be appeased and gave into the feelings that had assailed her from their first meeting. She could feel the firm muscles of his body as he crushed her against him. His kisses were so unlike what she expected, she thought irreverently as his probing tongue ignited a fire deep within her.

Moving her body against his, she could feel the fully aroused maleness of him pressed to her soft belly. She returned his kisses with a fevered passion that was new to her and brought her small hands to caress lightly the bulging muscles of his biceps.

Garth lavished her firm breasts with kisses and took her nipple in his mouth, sucking gently until it felt so hard. She thought that surely the skin would burst. He closed his teeth on the swollen tenderness of the nipple and felt her body go rigid.

Kayla threw her head back, moaning in pain and pleasure. “Oh please, I don’t think I can bear it any longer,” she gasped as he brought an expert hand between her legs and touched the center of her being, tormenting her until she begged some more, “Please, Garth, please.”

"No! Let me out of here!" Dani was shaking so hard, she could hardly stand on her own.

"Now, that's no way for a good little slave to behave," growled Vorack as he dragged her into the center of the huge room. Reaching for a pair of leather cuffs hanging from the high ceiling, he locked one of her wrists in and reached for the other.

Totally terrified, Dani screamed, kicking and scratching hysterically. She managed to score a couple of solid kicks on his chest and groin and left a trail of bloody scratches across the good side of his face before he was able to capture and secure the second hand above her head.

Vorack stood back out of reach of her kicking feet a moment to wipe the blood from his cheek and glare down at her.

"You can't keep me here like this!" she screamed. "I have friends and they'll find me! You'll pay for this!"

Without warning, Vorack struck her, knocking her half-unconscious. Blood leaked from her cut lip.

"I told you that's not the way a good slave minds her Master." Seizing her chin with one hand, Vorack covered her mouth with his, his tongue rudely probing the depths of her mouth. When her resistance faded, his kisses became gentler, and he drew her lips into his mouth, one at a time, licking the blood from them.

His hands began moving over her naked body, eliciting an involuntary moan from Dani's throat. Taking her breasts into his big hands, he squeezed them until she yelped in pain before bending his head to her hard nipples and sucking them until they throbbed.

Dani tried to scream when she felt the roughness of his hand between her legs, driving his fingers up into her, but her voice seemed frozen somewhere deep inside her chest. She twisted and squirmed, but there was no escape.

Her stomach churned with nausea and her mind ranted in fear, but still, her body betrayed her, the ache in her groin growing until she thought she would surely die, for she could not stop herself from moving in time to his thrusts.

"No, please, stop," she cried desperately, and to her surprise, Vorack stopped touching her and left her twisting from her chains in an agony of need.

For just a moment, Dani was too afraid to open her eyes--until the rattle of more chains made her eyes fly wide, seeking the whereabouts of her tormentor. She found him standing a few feet away, his back to her.

Vorack had discarded his cloak and now wore only a black leather jerkin and britches much as Brandt had, only his were even more form-fitting, outlining every muscle and bulge of his body.

Sensing her eyes on him, Vorack turned. "What do you think, my dear? Do I compare well with your last lover? Let me allow you to fully appreciate my attributes," he said and began to undress.

Danielle had refused to answer him but found that she could not turn her eyes away either, for Vorack was indeed an exceptionally well-built man. Standing over six feet tall, his shoulders were broad and muscular but not to the same extremes as Brandt's. His muscles moved fluidly under his well-tanned skin, rippling across his chest and groin as he unfastened his belt buckle.

But as his britches fell to the floor with the rest of his clothing, Danielle began to struggle against the chains holding her once again, for where Brandt had been adequate, Vorack's manhood stood erect and huge.

"Ah, do not be in such a hurry, little elf," he laughed, deliberately misconstruing her anxiety as he reached for her. Kissing her deeply and running is hands over her body ever so slowly, he told her, "First, you must earn what it is you want so much." He pressed the hardness of his manhood against her belly, making her moan with need before moving away. But in a moment, he returned to remove her boots and fasten a leather cuff to each of her ankles.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Dani sobbed, rattling her chains in frustration.

"Because," he snarled and thrust his ruined face into hers, "you owe me for this!"

After an endless and all-too-short time, Luret collapsed and rolled to his back, breathing heavily, but the fires of Mariah's need still burned high, and the voices of the stone surrounding them sang to her, driving her need higher. This time, the Taureen had met his match, and she had no intention of letting him off this easy.

Mariah rose from the rumpled bed, making no effort to cover her nakedness. Knowing that he watched her with lusting eyes, she made her way to a cabinet of polished ebony and opened it to remove a carafe of heavy liquor and a silver cup.

"For you, lover," she purred as she filled the cup and passed it to him.

Luret reached for the cup with one hand and drew her back to the bed with the other.

"Not many women would still be willing," he grinned, "or able to return to a Taureen man's arms after that." He took a big swallow of the brandy and began kissing and licking her breasts.

Returning his caresses, Mariah did not answer him as she moved to him, kissing and massaging the bulging muscles of his chest and biceps. She knew it would not be long before the powerful herbs she'd added to the brandy would take effect, and her lover would find himself burgeoning with renewed need and strength. As his erection grew, Mariah eased herself onto him and drove her hips down on it.

Luret's cry of pleasure was followed by the hollow sound of the cup hitting the stone floor.

"Easy now, lover, you just lay back and let me bring you the pleasure a man like you deserves," she crooned to him when he tried to seize her hips in his big hands. Keeping his hands clasped in her own, she lifted them above his head without breaking the rhythm of kisses and soft nips to his body. Now, Mariah controlled the pace of the lovemaking, and she had no intention of returning it to him. With the blink of an eye and a thought, she caused the cuffs dangling from the corners of the bed to rise and close around the wrists she held extended.

Kayla could feel the numbness of the stasis he had placed on her beginning to fade away. Raoul obviously intended to enjoy every move she made whether it was in her struggle to escape him or in lust. Drawing her to her feet, he quickly maneuvered her until she was within reach of a pair of leather handcuffs dangling from the ceiling.

With practiced ease, he closed the cuffs round Kayla's wrists. Taking a step back, he ran his hands across her twisting body, touching and stroking. "Now, let's just make sure you are comfortable my dear," he laughed as he tightened the ropes until only the balls of her feet rested on the floor.

While he busied himself with removing her sandals and setting the manacles that would hold her legs spread, she sent out a tentative touch to Lori's mind and found her unharmed but beginning to wake. Before she could resist, Kayla sent the command, Sleep, my sister, and felt Lori fall into a deep sleep on the instant. She did not want to risk Lori interfering with what she knew must be done.

Raoul straightened up before her, devouring the beauty of her near-naked body with his dark, sensual eyes for endless moments before turning to the wall behind him. He carefully studied his collection before selecting a long, black whip.

With his eyes locked on hers, he ran the forked leather tip ever so slowly and gently up the insides of Kayla's thighs, not stopping until a deep moan escaped her lips and she began tugging at her bonds to escape the exquisite torture. Swaying in apparent rapture, she covertly twisted her hands in the cuffs and wrapped them around the chains to tighten the muscles of her arms and take some of the weight from her wrists.

Throwing the whip to the floor, Raoul stroked her with his bare hands for endless moments. Lost to the sensations ravaging her body, Kayla barely noticed when he drew a small dagger from his waistband and cut the sides of her panties, letting them fall to the floor. Tracing her breast with the tip of the dagger, he bent his head to her body and licked the tiny droplets of blood from her breast before standing back to admire his work. Taking note of the silver belt and ornaments, he reached one hand for it, intending to remove it.

"No, please," Kayla whispered huskily, "leave it. The links cutting into my flesh will only heighten my ecstasy." She looked at him with hooded eyes and pulled against her chains, making the hard nipples of her breasts rise and the muscles of her stomach ripple.

The shower helped to soothe her, but once again, his cry for help echoed in her mind. Why could he never complete the communication? What was it that he needed help with? How could she help him now? After all, she was still in her physical body while he resided in the spirit world. He probably means the research for a cure, she decided. The soothing jets of water washed away the scalding tears she still shed for him regularly. She closed her eyes and imagined him in the shower with her, his arms circling her, his cock pressing hard against her backside.

It felt real, so very real. Leaning into the embrace, she rubbed her bottom against his hard length. “Oh, Cain…” she whispered.

Was it possible? Could he reach her from the spirit world and actually make her feel as if they were making love? When his hands pushed her down and he plunged into her, she came almost right away. “Cain…again! Oh, darling, fuck me more!”

Bracing herself against the wall, she pushed her hips back at him hard. His taut balls slapped against her pussy, causing the fire within to build even more—a fire that had needed extinguishing ever since she’d learned of his death. “Yes, baby, yes! More!” she shouted.

She felt his violent shudder. In return, her final orgasm built to its peak. Something pushed against her anal channel, his second cock. Strange, could he still shift to Sasquatch form even though he was a spirit? Just as she released and felt his come shoot into her, she let out a long breath and opened her eyes. She saw two Sasquatch feet between her own—blond Sasquatch feet.

Herbert had never felt such bewilderment. He tried to imagine how Molly smuggled herself aboard Strathmorgen. Perhaps Kenneth had a hand in it. Since falling ill, I suspected the man of subterfuge, trying to take over the Stokes fortune. He could have enlisted Molly’s help, offered her a share to play her part. The woman who’s already proven herself devoid of scruples would have jumped at the money. Because the alternative is so unthinkable, the more I consider it the more plausible it sounds. Kenneth and Molly are conspiring against me.

But why send me away to do it when they could have achieved it as well at home? Perhaps they thought this the safer way. Too many people at home to question Molly’s presence. The housekeeper for one, whose eyes and ears don’t miss the smallest incident. If Kenneth were not in the arena, his implication would be improbable. I could point the finger of accusation, but if Kenneth were not there, being seen to participate in the plan the presumption of his innocence by police, and anyone else who matters, would be probable.

Herbert’s heart tightened. Of course I’m wrong. Kenneth could never do such a thing. My memory is returning. Although I still have blank spots, I suspect these contain more of the same good things I’ve recalled to date. Even though Kenneth is not biologically mine I haven’t lived with the man all his life without getting to know the inner Kenneth and the things making him the honourable person he is.

Because Kenneth knows the estates will become his, he has no reason to betray me. No reason at all, unless he believes his illegitimacy will exclude him from the inheritance. There’s ample proof he’s not a Stokes, no birth certificate, no pre-natal records.

No, thought Herbert without conviction. No one else is to blame. I am falling apart. The truth is inescapable. My illness is real and not the result of some wicked scheme.

Nauseated by his confusion, Herbert’s body hummed with exhaustion. But he still found strength to pick up the brandy bottle by the neck and smash it on the chest of drawers. “This can’t be right. I don’t want to do it,” he whispered before becoming breathless again.

Molly gave him the perfect murder motive, the threat of disclosure blood money couldn’t buy off. Kenneth was right. My life will be ruined. There’s no place to hide from the shame in London, where everyone in society knows everyone else’s business, and gossip spreads like disease.

“Molly, yours is the plan of a sophist, not a common whore. Had you help with it, or did you work it up on your own and get lucky?” Because the peril of its success snapped at his ankles like a terrier, he tried to drop the bottle, but couldn’t force his mind to unlock his hand. He tried to back away, but his feet moved forward as if he’d been pushed.

“Ye’ve no control no more, Master Stokes. For whatever ye wants to do I’ll make ye do ut other.”

Not sounding to come from her direction Molly’s words jangled in Herbert’s head.

“I know what ye’re thinking, how could such a low person as meself with no learning work ye into such a corner? Someone ye thought ye’d got rid of all those years back, paid off so handsome to lay low and keep mum, come up again and cause ye and yer family so much grief. But even in thinking it ye is wrong. I’m not ut stupid trollop ye takes me for. For haven’t I been able to show ye some surprising things. The big wave war a thing of sheer beauty, war it not? And didn’t ye really feel ut cold of ut sea as ye sank? And do ye not love ut fishy smell what follows ye about like a lost pup? Ah, no. Stupid I aren’t, Master Stokes. Ye really thought yer precious Mistress Vale war dead in her bathroom, did ye not? And at this very second ye wonders if ye’re losing yer mind, are ye not?”

Yes, in a moment I’ll wake from this hellish nightmare like I have woken from all the others.

* * * *

“But ye’ll not wake, Master, because this ain’t no dream. I’m going to finish ye and then finish yer precious Kenneth and them what come after. Ye is both coming to the dark place where ye sent me, the same dark place ye keeps seeing at my bidding, sees in me eyes, sees in the Mistress’s room behind her, sees all about ye when ye’re frightened. It’s cold here, Master, cold and deep and got no end. I know there’s others here but I can’t see them, nor can they see me. I can ’ear them talking and wailing and moaning, yet I can’t talk to them. They touch me but when I reaches out for them there ain’t nowt but empty space. I’m so hungry I feel like me belly is turning inside out, so thirsty me tongue sticks to itself. I never been so hungry and thirsty but there’s nowt to eat nor drink here.”

She paused. “When I goes to lay down there’s nowt to lay on but darkness, and when I fall asleep there’s those here what shakes me awake again. Can ye imagine what it’s like never sleeping, being awake till ye feels like ye is going to drop with it but not being able to find nowt to lay on? I’ll tell, ye, Master Stokes, it’s bad. Ye feel like ye want to die. Ye wish for it. Ye try and pray for it, but then noise rattles round in yer head and grabs yer prayers and squashes them. It’s scary in here. Ye can’t see it nor touch it, but ye can sort of sense it moving about ye. It gets in yer head and laughs at ye. An ’orrible cackling laugh bouncing between yer ears. I don’t want to be here, Master Stokes. It’s worse than ut hell I heard about in church. There’s no fire and brimstone here. No demons. No infernal heat. Nothing.”

As Duane and I were shown to a quiet corner of the main dining room, what stood beside our table for two raised the hair on my arms. I saw a trunk, the trunk, the exact same one I’d seen in my vision. It’s bigger than I’d imagined, built of wood with an external steel skeleton, its timber dented but polished, its metal brown yet smooth. It looked travel-worn, but still serviceable for future generations. Three words best describe it, sturdy, resistant, ageless. Two fancy hasp and staples secured the lid with old-fashioned padlocks. It sat on four old metal wheels with wooden guards and hard rubber tyres. Even empty, how one would lift its bulk by the metal handles bolted to each side beggared belief. The top’s hinges matched the decorative hasps. Its face divided down the centre into two doors, which I assumed swung out to either side. Its size amazed me. Four feet tall, five feet wide and four feet deep, a trunk like this is big enough for a world-traveller, big enough for a lifetime of souvenirs, big enough for…many things.

I frowned when I recollected the vision of a bundle hefted into the trunk. Would it be clothing? I mused as fingers of intrigue crept up my spine. Or a more sinister item, a body, perhaps…

Excitement clenched deep in my gut and kicked my brain into hyper drive. A body in the trunk means murder, which, if the body were Herbert Stokes, would explain why he never returned home. If it were murder, the culprit remained uncaught, unless Albert’s father, Kenneth, chose to keep the truth secret, as a parent might to protect the young. Why keep the secret in his adulthood…unless Kenneth killed his father. No. Not likely, unless Kenneth went on the cruise from which Herbert disappeared. Perhaps Herbert killed someone else and, to avert discovery, jumped ship and…disappeared. But who would he kill and why?

If someone opened the trunk at the end of Strathmorgen’s voyage, the body, whose ever it might be, should have been found, which means newspaper articles would exist, unless someone covered it up. If this is the case, someone should try to uncover it. Because I found the luggage key tag, I presumed the chosen someone was me.

No. I shook my head. I’m neither brave nor skilled in detection outside Internet research. I could concoct a hundred valid reasons to support my unsuitability for the task. Too busy. Not enough money. Too busy. No skills. Too busy. Other obligations. Too busy, too busy, too busy. I wouldn’t know one end of a sleuth from the other or where to begin. I cannot, and will not…

Although preposterous, the notion of an undiscovered body in a trunk, and how my mind created a murder mystery around a piece of printed cardboard, struck me like a kick in the shins. I laughed aloud. “I need to keep my wild thoughts caged.”

Duane raised his eyebrows at my unexpected outburst. “You always talk to old luggage?”

To confirm my mind’s fantasy flight, I wanted to touch the trunk. This particular trunk is in the here-and-now. It’s a hard, solid, real thing—an ornament in a pub whose décor is intended to convey its modern day visitors’ imaginations back to a more genteel time of discovery, danger and romance. This trunk is an immense item of luggage neither containing Herbert Stokes’s body nor belonging to him. Even though it’s a twin to the one in my mind’s eye, its presence here is coincidence and touching its inert form will provide proof. It’s a wood and metal box, nothing more.

I reached forward to stroke its worn smoothness. Before my hand reached it, a powerful blue spark arced between my fingertip and the trunk’s metal skeleton, emitting an audible crack. A painful sting shot up my arm. Wrenching my hand away, I looked at my shoes. Rubber soles. The floor’s timber parquetry. “There shouldn’t be any static electricity,” I muttered.

Duane squinted even more oddly at me as I shook my tingling hand.

“What happened?”

“It bit…uh, bit of static.” I nearly said, It bit me.

All eyes were upon her…Sean with his drowning pools of blue and Christian with warm, chestnut brown wonders. Their smiles were affectionate and sexy. It was clear. They wanted her again, and she wanted them.

"What's a girl to do?" Holly let out a sigh and laughed quietly. "You two are so bad."

Christian fully grinned. "You have no idea how bad we are. Shall we show you?"

"Yes." Holly smiled. "Show me."

As they walked as a threesome up the sweeping staircase, Christian directed her to the huge pair of matching doors to her right. His bedroom was masculine, but with refined touches of someone ofhis status. A large and impressive four-post mahogany bed with lions carved into the headboard, cornice, and posts. There was a sage-green bedspread and draperies, maroon carpeting, floral design Persian rug of beige and maroon. There was a living area grouping with a striped beige and tangerine couch and matching chairs. Everything was stunning.

"The dress comes off this time," said Sean. "I want to see you in the altogether. Let me help you."

Holly turned around so Sean could unzip her. She let the dress fall to the floor, stepping out of it so he could place it across the back of the sofa. There she was standing in her leopard bikini underwear and nothing else. Both men stared at her while they undressed. Their chests were strong and well built, their legs muscular and long. She could feel her nipples harden and her pussy weep in anticipation of things to come.

Their cocks were hanging hard and heavy as they came toward her. Christian took her in his arms and pressed his huge thickness to her belly. Sean arrived from behind, letting one hand slip down the back of her panties as he squeezed her butt cheeks. His other hand softly rubbed her shoulders, and he leaned down and kissed them.

"You're an exquisite woman and we're glad we met you," breathed Christian as he bent to her mouth and they kissed long and deep.

Sean took his fingers and eased her panties down over her butt, her legs and to her ankles, where he lifted one foot at a time to take them off. He slid his hands between her thighs and up to her waiting pussy.

Holly felt her knees go weak as Sean's fingers moved in-between her folds and started exploring. It was no longer just anticipation she was feeling, but a raw hunger for the two of them.

Robert felt her wet body press up against his. He got aroused from the contact.

"What's that smell?" She pulled away and stared at the slime stuck to her skin. "What is this stuff?"

"That is bug guts," Tony replied.

Brittney screamed and kept her distance from Tony. "Don't touch me!" she said. "The only way I'll allow it, is if you're naked."

"That can be arranged," he joked.

Robert moved through the cave until they reached the strewn remains of the insects.

"This was in the cave?" Brittney cried. "I don't want to stay in here."

"We have to," Tony soothed. "It's safer in here than outside."

Robert left the two of them to argue and made his way further into the darkness. He held his gun out in case of danger.

Chantel held onto his shirt and followed his every movement.

As he rounded a corner, a private alcove came into view. This will be a perfect place for us to be alone. He searched the area thoroughly and once satisfied that it was clear of predators, he lay down with the woman that he loved.

In the quietness of the darkness, she held him tight. "What is this place?" she asked. "These are no ordinary bugs. What if there are worse creatures on the island?"

Robert lit a match and ignited the end of a scattered branch. "Can you hold this for me?"

Chantel grabbed the torch and held it out. "What are you looking for?"

He reached into his shirt pocket and retrieved a map. "I found this among the debris." Robert studied the geographic lines carefully. "According to the diagram, this is where we crashed."

Chantel leaned over and studied the strange writings. "It says, Isla de Los Hombres Inutiles." Her brow rose in speculation. "What does that mean in English?"

Robert stroked his chin thoughtfully and attempted to decipher the meaning. After a moment of deep thought he turned to Chantel, laughing.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"I know what Isla de Los Hombres Inutiles, means. In English it translates to Island of Useless Men."

Still in the twilight zone between fully awake and fully asleep, I was slowly becoming aware of pleasant sensations.

It seemed like I was still in dreamland. In the dream, I was getting one hell of a blow job. An incredibly realistic dream, I could feel the warmth and moisture surround my cock.

But I also felt other sensations.

I felt soft fingers caressing my skin, the tips of long square tipped acrylic nails softly scratching my skin, and warm breath on the tip of my cock, followed by soft, warm lips. Then I felt silky-smooth hair on my thigh. My right leg was being gently squeezed in between soft, ample, natural breasts.

A sweet female voice said, "Is my big, strong police officer awake yet?"

I snapped instantly awake. This was no dream! "Okay, Vanessa, I'm awake."

Vanessa stopped having her way with my cock, and moved back up, to snuggle up against me. "Good morning, baby."

I turned my face, to look in her soft brown doe eyes. "Good morning, sweetness."

She caressed my face with the back of her left hand, and her right hand rested on my tummy. She softly nuzzled her lips against the nape of my neck. "Did you like your wakeup call?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"Why don't I pick up where I left off?"

“It’s beautiful,” she moaned. She seductively took me into her warm, moist mouth, choked a little, and then backed away.

“Do you like that?” she gasped.

“God, yes,” I groaned.

“Am I doing it right?”

“Perfectly,” I responded.

“I’d do it some more, but I want you to make love to me,” she said. She lay back on the couch, raised her knees, and lifted her arms, inviting me down to her.

I started pinching myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

I kneeled between her legs and took her nipples into my mouth. She entwined her fingers in my hair and lifted her hips, moving them in slow circles beneath me.

“I’m not very experienced.”

“You’re doing just fine.”

I wanted to go slowly, to enjoy every second of my cock easing into her, but the second the tip of my rigid pole entered her moist box, she gasped as though taken by surprise, and gasped again when I began to move.

She moaned so much! I felt her wetness increase with every move I made. She pulled me tight against her and dug her teeth into my shoulder. When I pushed down, she pushed up.

God, she felt good. And the pain from her teeth was fantastic. It told me that she was excited, and her enthusiasm fueled my exhilaration. It was all too much for me. Not only hadn’t I been laid in months, but her reaction to me—her completely sensual, sexual reaction—drove me over the edge.

I didn’t want to act like an animal, but I was overcome with lust and, I hate to say this, I jammed myself into her as deep as I could. I ground against her, making small circles with my hips, as blast after blast of my jism pouring inside of her.

She bit me harder and cried out, lifting her hips to match my thrusts.

I don’t know how it happened, how we got by the lobby attendants, but the next thing I knew we were in my condo. A strange music entered my brain. Drums, bells, some type of high-pitched violin, a bass—definitely a bass. The room was filled with a pulsating beat. The music seemed to enhance my senses while at the same time dulling them. My skin felt hot. I was weightless, starting to float, and then I was standing in the middle of the living room, swaying to the music, and Ray was sitting on the couch, talking to me.

“Do you see them?” he asked.

“Who?”

“The men and women. Where do you think you are?”

“I…I’m in my living room.”

“No,” Ray hissed. “You’re on stage, and they’re all here to see you. Look around. Look to your left. There’s a couple kissing. His hand is between her legs. Her hand is fondling his cock. Look. You can see them.”

I looked to my left and there they were. I could barely make them out, but it was a couple, kissing and fondling each other.

“Everyone wants to see your tits, Mandy. You can hear them whispering your name—Mandy, Mandy.”

I turned my head to the left and to the right and I could hear the voices, whispering my name.

“Take it off,” Ray said. “Take it off and throw it aside.”

I reached behind my neck, untied the top of my bikini, lifted it off, and just let it drop.

“Uh oh,” Ray said. “A man is on the stage. He’s not supposed to be there, but he wants to feel your tits. You want him to feel your tits. Tell him. Tell him what to do.”

“Put…”—the room started to spin—“…put your hands on my tits,” I whispered.

“No,” Ray said. “Tell him what to do.”

“Squeeze my tits,” I said. “Squeeze my nipples.”

I felt him. I knew it was Ray, but it seemed like a stranger. He was pawing me and squeezing me and sending shock waves through me. I put my arms in the air and around my neck and just let him fondle me.

“He wants to suck on your tits,” Ray whispered. “You want him to suck on your tits. Tell him.”

“Suck on my tits,” I whispered.

“Talk dirty,” Ray commanded.

“Suck on my fucking tits,” I shouted.

“Drink this,” Ray said. “I have one more in the fridge if we need them, but I don’t think we will. Drink this and let it spill on your tits. Ask the man to lick it off.”

I lifted the bottle to my lips. Cold liquid ran down my body, over my breasts and down between my legs.

“Bad girl,” Ray said. “You spilled it on your bathing suit. Take it off.”

I tried, but I could barely move. Ray helped me, pulling my suit down my legs, lifting my feet, and tossing it aside.

“Bend over,” he commanded. “Bend over and show everyone your pussy.”

I did what he commanded me to do. I bent over and wrapped my hands around my knees, spreading my legs.

“Uh oh, Mandy. Another man is coming. He’s going to lick the liquid from your pussy. You want him to do that. Tell him. Tell him that you want his tongue on you.”

“Lick…lick my pussy. Lick it clean. Lick the juice out of me.”

“Your ass hole has liquid on it, Mandy. Tell him.”

“Lick my ass hole,” I shouted. I began to feel lightheaded from bending over so long. I could feel myself swaying, trying to stand up.

“Mandy,” Ray said. “I got liquid on my cock. Get on your knees and lick it off.”

I obeyed. He shoved his cock into my mouth, grabbed my head and moved it back and forth. I sucked and sucked and sucked. All of a sudden he was behind me, and then he was in me. I was trying to stay on all fours as he pounded into me.

“Oh, god,” I cried. “Oh, God—Oh, God—Oh, God!”

A disembodied voice came from nowhere. “Mandy,” it whispered.

“What?”

“You love Ray. Tell him.”

“I…” I knew I didn’t love him, but I felt compelled to tell him.

“Tell him,” the voice said.

“I…I love you, Ray.”

“Yes,” the voice said. “You want to help him. Tell him.”

“I want to help you, Ray,” I said. He kept pounding into me, slapping against me, squeezing my tits.

The room fell quiet. I felt myself floating toward the bedroom. Someone was holding my hand and leading me to the bed. Someone pushed me face down on the bed and lifted me up from the waist and put a pillow under me.

“Ray’s going to fuck you in the ass,” the voice said. “There will be no pain—only pleasure. You will like it and want more. Tell Ray—tell him you want him to fuck you in the ass.”

I didn’t! I didn’t trust him! He didn’t care for me! I wanted Ned! But I was compelled to answer. I had no choice.

“I want you to fuck me in the ass,” I said.

“Louder,” the voice said.

“I want you to fuck me in the ass,” I cried.

“Louder!” the voice shouted.

“I want you to fuck me in the ass!” I screamed.

“Yes,” the voice hissed.

I felt him at the entrance to my bowels. I felt him press up against me. I felt him shove into me in one fast motion.

“Oh, God,” I screamed.

“It feels good,” the voice said.

“Yes,” I screamed. “Yes!”

“Tell Ray you want to marry him,” the voice said.

“But…but…”

“Tell him!” the voice screamed.

“I want to marry you, Ray!”

He was in me, pushing hard and deep.

“Oh, YES!” I screamed.

I began to leave my body and become a field of energy. I saw red, white and blue stars dancing in front of my face.

“Tell him again!”

“I want to marry you!” I screamed.

“I coming,” the voice shouted.

I saw the first of the voice’s ejaculations shoot in front of my eyes, a white streak that ended in an explosion like fireworks. My body disappeared altogether and I was nothing but colored stars, dancing around the room.

“Oh, fuck!” the voice shouted.

I saw the second ejaculation and my head exploded!

I turned into pure energy and watched his jism soar across the room and explode into a burst of white light. My own orgasm appeared in front of me, emanating from the middle of my body and racing up my bowels, through my stomach and out my mouth, appearing as an explosion or red lightning.

The voice or Ray or whatever pressed deep into me and groaned as the last ejaculation spread across the entirety of my field of vision, punctuated by sporadic white lights spraying out of my mouth.

I could barely breathe. I could barely move. I felt the presence pull out of me and a hot liquid spread all over me.

And I heard the voice saying something about God.

“God,” it said. “I love mumble fucking mumble.”

I didn’t care. I was paralyzed and slowly returning to a human form. Pleasure continued to pulse with me until, slowly, the room turned black.

Reeve's lips curled into a disappointed frown. "Yep, nothing." He gestured with a large hand. "What kind of person needs six cans of whipping cream? That's just weird. We should get the hell out of this dump and grab some lunch, before I pass out from lack of nourishment, sweet cheeks."

"Agreed." Slade grimly eyed him. "Frig man, I'm not a girl!" When Reeve laughed, the commander caught the fridge door before it closed. He had an idea and swiped a tin of the whipping cream. "I know what this is for." He started to shake the tin.

The cowboy's chuckling abruptly ended and he cautiously backed away from his lover, that tin and the evil smirk on Slade's face. "Hey now--wait just a bloody minute, blade boy! I know what you're thinking, but we're here to look at the house not christen it…"

Slade wickedly laughed and shaking the can of whipping cream, pressed a finger to the serrated tip and the semisweet white spray hit Reeve's face.

The cowboy ducked and dove at him, pinning his body to the dining room table in the adjoining room. The tables wooden legs let off a high-pitched screech, scraping the tiled floor.

Slade struggled with him to keep control of the tin, then he swore as Reeve shot the sticky foam under his shirt.

Reeve chuckled while mashing it into the material with a flat hand. It was cold and Slade cuffed him. His chest and stomach were coated. "You bastard…shit!" Reeve howled holding his gut. Slade looked like a kitten with two balls of whipping cream on either side of his head and foam on his nose.

Slade grumbled, then smirked, lifting his shirt up. "Oh man, Reeve, I'm totally stuck here!" The large man grinned and yanked each of his boots off. The commander blinked staring at him. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" He gripped the waist of his jeans, cursing as Reeve persisted on pulling them off his body. "This isn't the time or place, cowboy!"

She held Max’s hand as she led him out and onto the ramp to the boardwalk. She led him across the deserted promenade and up towards the Steel Pier. They came to a little space between two booths on the inside and she stopped him. The booths were both closed up for the night. It was after four o’clock in the morning. She reached up to kiss him.

“This is my special place,” she said.

She squeezed between the booths and jumped off the edge of the boardwalk down to the sand beneath.

“Come on Max.”

Max squeezed through too and dropped down beside her. She led him under the boardwalk towards the beach. He could hear the surf pounding as the tide came in. She had a small, dark green blanket on the sand, about ten feet back from the beach edge of the boardwalk.

“It’s just back far enough that nobody notices, but it’s close enough to the beach that I can see everything,” she said.

She dropped down on the blanket and looked up winsomely at Max. He dropped down beside her. In no time, they were embracing each other, sharing kisses and exploring each other under their clothing. Max pulled up her sweater and bra to find her hard succulent nipples. He sucked on them long and hard.

“Nobody will notice us this late,” she said.

They removed their clothes and tangled their limbs together. Mickey seemed to be surprised that Max was ready again, but she took advantage of it. They made long, slow, gentle love again and then once more, taking a little nap between each episode.

Max awoke to the sun shining down through the slats above him. As he looked up, a woman walked across his field of view and he stared up her dress.

Mickey was stirring too.

“Damn,” she said, “I didn’t think it was this late. We’ve got to get out of here.”

"Good, then I think a little celebration is in order," replied Mina. She looked at the two men. "You two pop along to the galley and bring back what's in the top left hand cupboard."

"Yes, miss," said Thorold as he and Black hurriedly left.

Mina looked with naked desire at Sarah, who blushed an even deeper red and looked shyly at Mina.

"What should I do, Miss?" she asked, nervously twisting her fingers.

"Nothing you don't want to do," smiled Mina as she finally settled in a comfortable position in the chair. She eased her legs apart slightly and her ankle-length skirt fell open along the side seam, exposing her long, perfect legs, silk stockings and her lack of underwear.

Sarah gasped aloud in shock and desire, falling to her knees as her eyes locked on the beautiful pink mound between Mina's thighs. She leaned forward and moved Mina's skirts further apart, staring intently at the pussy that was beginning to gently quiver in excitement, and without conscious though Sarah plunged her face into the glorious fleshy peach.

Mina cried out in delight as she felt Sarah's tongue push itself deeply inside. Her pussy throbbed in desire and as Sarah thrust higher inside Mina felt the immediate, glorious sensations of her orgasm. A tingle spread out between her thighs, the first hint that the mighty flood was building.

The sensation grew in intensity and radiated out over her body, increasing the build-up of wild sexual pressure inside Mina's trembling torso and legs until with a roaring gush her pussy expanded and covered Sarah's tongue and face with a deluge of hot juice.

Mina bucked in joy as the savage, powerful, stimulation flooded through her body and washed over her mind, blasting her upper consciousness away in the flood of raw pleasure. She gave in totally to the ecstasy of the moment, her nipples engorging in desire as they thrust upwards and tasted the cool air of the ship as her chest spilt out of her corset.

Sarah gasped in pleasure as she licked frenziedly at Mina's hot, sweet essence, pushing her tongue ever deeper into Mina's pussy. Her tongue explored Mina's interior with increasing vigour, probing from side to side as she tasted each wall and Mina's clitoris before plunging further up inside the hot, blissful cavern.

Mina squirmed and groaned before releasing a throaty roar of delight, corresponding to the roar of pure lust and bliss that burst from between her legs as she came. Her juices exploded outwards, showering Sarah's face and hair.

Mina shuddered and gasped as she wrapped her long, powerful legs around Sarah's body, grabbing Sarah's head in her hands in order to grind her face into her sopping wet cunny. Another spurt of clear liquid joy splashed onto Sarah, drenching her face and hair. Mina's eyes snapped open as her climax eased and she saw Thorold and Black had returned from the galley, Thorold clutching two bottles of champagne while Black held a tray on which were a huge bowl of greenhouse strawberries and a pint jug of cream. Both were watching entranced as Sarah pleasured Mina.

"Look lively, boys," gasped Mina as Sarah broke contact to turn and look at the two men. "We're both hungry for more than food."

Kimberly and Vic sat on the floor in front of the gas fireplace after dinner. The sounds of Miles Davis' muted trumpet playing love songs emanated from the stereo while blue flames danced along the faux logs. Vic sipped his wine then set the glass on the hearth. Kimberly leaned against him and exhaled in contentment.

"This is nice," she said.

"Thank you. I wanted to tell you I thought what you did last night was really sweet."

"You mean singing one of your favorite songs?"

"Uh-huh. Put me in the mood to do this."

She gave a soft laugh. "Just this?"

"Okay, maybe a few other things, too."

"Just as I suspected. You're a typical man."

He caressed her cheek. "What was that you said about half the guys you meet being conceited while the other half are gay?"

She looked into his eyes. "I don't think you're either one."

"Glad we got that settled." Vic placed his hands on her upper arms, pulled her close and tenderly kissed her. Kimberly held the back of his neck and slipped her tongue in his mouth. Vic felt arousal starting in his loins the longer they necked. He had enjoyed their quick bed romp two nights earlier but now felt something deeper, more of a connection. It made him want to have her for real this time.

Kimberly pulled back and ran her hand along his neck. "You really think I'm a precious bundle?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

Kimberly pushed Vic onto his back and resumed kissing him. He put his arms around her, and slipped his hands under her cashmere sweater, caressing her smooth back. He gasped slightly when he felt Kimberly's hand on his crotch, fondling him into hardness. He drove his tongue into her mouth, inhaling her scent while kissing her. It all had the desired effect on his libido as his hard-on pressed against his pants. Kimberly unzipped his fly and pulled out his hard cock, squeezing and stroking it. Vic unfastened her bra and moved his hand to her firm breasts. Kimberly sat up to slip off her sweater. Vic pulled his sweater over his head and tossed it aside before unfastening and slipping out of his pants and shorts. He rolled Kimberly onto her back, unfastened her jeans then pulled them and her thong panties down over hips. Kimberly pushed them the rest of the way, kicking them aside.

Lying next to her, Vic kissed her as he gently played with her breasts. The warmth from the fire combined with her body heat made his skin tingle. He wanted to enjoy Kimberly thoroughly after ogling her for the past few days. His cock pressed against her taut stomach while he smoothed one hand along her mid-section down to her crotch. Kimberly ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him with more heat when he lightly caressed her inner thighs while teasing her nipple with his other hand. Vic pulled his lips from hers and kissed a slow trail down her body until his face was nestled between her legs. He gently pulled her lips apart and flicked the tip of his tongue along her vulva and clit, causing her hips to jerk involuntarily.

Vic gently licked Kimberly, enjoying her musky scent and taste. He made a preliminary probe inside with his tongue and heard her purr softly. His tongue began working on her with a little more intensity, savoring her. He felt Kimberly's fingers tugging at his hair as he licked and probed with his tongue, increasing his arousal. His hard cock pressed against the carpet underneath him while he concentrated on her clit. He took it between his lips and gently sucked and licked it to hardness. Kimberly ground her pelvis against his mouth as he licked her faster. His pulse pounded the more he pleasured her, his tongue tasting her intimate secretions. Kimberly moaned louder, arching her groin toward his active tongue, finally emitting an audible, pleasant "Oh, yeah!" as Vic brought her off. After her climax subsided he continued licking her, but a bit slower, enjoying her.

Max shook his head, “God, what a juvenile mistake.” After several silent seconds berating himself and another bite of his sandwich, he continued. “Another member of my clan, Tyron, he’s our doctor, arrived a few minutes later. If not for him, I may be dead,” he mused. “I owe him a life debt. He gave me the opportunity to fly away before passing out from my injuries.”

“Fly? Clan?” Narcissus couldn’t help latching onto the words. “What do you mean?”

Max beamed another grin at her and reached across the table. He clasped her hand, drawing lazy circles across her knuckles with his thumb. “I’m a gargoyle, beautiful. I even have the wings to prove it.” He winked, seeing her disbelieving look.

“But you look like a human!” Narcissus felt her cheeks heat. The lazy circles he drew on her hand made it hard to think. Her pulse sped up and tingles of awareness traveled from where Max caressed, up her arm, to her breasts. She felt her nipples harden and her womb clench.

Max gave her a knowing look, as if he knew what his touch did to her. “You’re thinking of a gargoyle’s battle mode.” He rose from his chair and moved around the table toward her, never releasing her hand. “Leather skin, talons, claws, horns, wings.” Using the hand he held, Max pulled Narcissus to her feet and into his arms. “Although we can unfurl our wings whenever we want.”

Narcissus stared up at Max in shock. Her body burned everywhere he touched her. She could feel her pussy clench, juice soaking into her underwear, readying itself for Max’s cock. Her breathing hitched, not understanding why she reacted this way to him.

“What are you doing?” Narcissus barely recognized her voice for the breathy quality.

“Seducing you,” Max whispered right before his lips found hers.