by Anj
(a.k.a. Azurenon)


All disclaimers in Chapter One


        "Where'd you get the flashlight?" I asked, as she aimed the dim spotlight into the small, dark entrance.
        "I poked around downstairs. There's a lot of stuff in the basement," she replied, the beam of light coming to rest on a wall just a few feet away.
There were rows of shelves, starting about 3 ft off the floor and extending up over our heads. The highest shelf was about 6 ft up and wider than the rest. Perched precariously near its edge was an old tin can: Maxwell House- good to the last drop. The rest of the shelves were bare, except for years of accumulated dust and cobwebs. She panned the light around the periphery of the small closet-like space and found two more sets of shelves -same height and width- running down the length of the sidewalls.
"Whaddaya think? Should I?" she asked, motioning to the coffee tin.
        I nodded, wondering what we might find. She bent down and went inside. She picked up the coffee tin, bringing down dust and cobwebs with it. "Here, hold the flashlight," she said, handing it back to me, then brushing a cobweb out of her face. She slowly looked inside the tin, as if afraid of what she might find. A smile twitched at the corners of her lips. "We found ourselves a bloomin' fortune," she announced, glancing around at me.
        "What?" I asked, getting excited now.
        She reached in the tin can and brought out something in her hand. Slowly extending it in my direction, she opened her hand. In the palm lay two Indian head pennies, an old Liberty half-dollar, three mercury dimes and a broken pendant with a red rose bud on it.
        "Like I said, a bloomin' fortune," she reiterated with a big smile.
        "Oh, you."
        She giggled like a little girl, while putting the coffee tin and pendant back.
        "What'cha gonna do with the money?" I queried.
        "Save it for our future."
        "Oh, so you do think we have one?"
        A smile graced her face once again, as she exchanged the money for the flashlight. Illuminating the walls again and even looking behind the panel door, she asked, "Whaddaya think, some type of storage closet?"
        "I don't know. Closet doors usually open up to the outside, not the inside. Don't they?"
        She nodded agreement. "I hadn't thought of that. So, what was this, ya think?"
        "Maybe some secret storage room?” I was still standing in the bedroom, itching to go inside. “ I do know whoever made it didn't want it seen from the outside."
        "Yeah. And it hasn't been used in a while. I went through two, maybe three layers of paint to get... Hold the phone," she announced, running her finger down the side of one of the shelves.
        "What is it?"
        "There's a separation here and...." She paused, grunting as she pushed on the shelf. "Cum'mere and hold the light."
        I pushed the small door open wider, its old hinges squealing a mild protest. Then I ducked down and maneuvered into the small space. It was a tight fit: the two of us, and my walker that is.
She handed me the flashlight. “I felt this thing move a while ago. Lemme try again.” She pushed on the shelf with both hands. The coffee tin above her head rattled with the force of her shove and the wall -from about head height down- opened like the other small door. We both glanced up at the tin can. If she hadn't moved that, I thought, it might've hit her in the head. "Shine the light in there," she said, sounding a bit excited herself now.
        "Guess that shoots down our little mystery, hmm?" I said, peeking over her shoulder.
        She took the flashlight from me. "Closet in the sitting room?" she queried, motioning up towards the steel rod overhead, running the length of the space.
        "That'd be my guess," I answered, noting the doorframe, a few feet away, highlighted by the beam of light.
        "Only one way to find out," she asserted, ducking down and moving over to the door. She opened it slowly and the hinges squeaked. Light edged into the closet from the window across the way. "Whaddaya think… an adjoining closet?"
        "I don't know,” I murmured. My first thought had been a hiding place for slaves. Yet, that didn't make much sense. Slaves hiding in the house? Don't think so. My second thought was “Sherman's March to the Sea.” It was said that in the final days of the Civil War, after General Sherman fought his way into Georgia, he and his troops burned, plundered and pillaged their way from Atlanta to the coast of Savannah. It made more sense that this may have been a hiding place for the plantation owner's valuables, or perhaps even his wife and children. I suggested as much to Sara.
        “Could be. Got two entrances, so somebody wanted to be sure they weren't trapped,” she commented, while searching the other walls of the sitting room closet for more niches or hidden doors. “Nothing there.” She pulled the small door shut in the same way she'd closed the other one the night before: another piece of leather. The hinges protested again and the tin can rattled. “Wanted to be sure these doors stayed hidden and could be closed from this side,” she remarked.
        I merely nodded in agreement.
        She panned the light around the hidden closet some more. I now realized the interior walls were paneled with unpainted, rough-hewn wood, unlike the sitting room closet. My second impression still held water, for me. It stood to reason this space would have been built on short notice, if the owner had feared being pillaged and plundered by Sherman's troops; ergo, the rough unpainted wood.
“You're probably right,” she noted. “The sitting room closet was probably down-sized. It'd probably take up enough room to fool the eye, so no one would suspect this was even here.”
“Wonder why those shelves up there are wider?” I queried aloud.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” she responded, as she reached around me and pushed on the far left hand set of shelves. She sighed heavily when it didn't move. "Damn, I thought we'd found something. I was all ready to find more hidden doors, an old staircase and.... maybe even a tunnel out to the road for quick escapes." She glanced over at me, disappointment written all over her face. "Pretty silly, huh?"
        "No. I had expectations, too, ya know. I couldn't wait to get in here." I was more disappointed than I was letting on. I'd had high hopes of finding something old and valuable in this hidden space. As a child, I'd dreamed of being an archaeologist, or at least finding something important that had been hidden away for years and years. Guess that's why I liked the story of the old Hermit and Windell's Point.
        This thought reminded me of Jason and then Brandon. I wondered if either one knew about this. “Wonder if this is what Brandon meant about maintaining the integrity of the house?” I vocalized.
        “Oh… you mean the renovations? Hmph,” she grunted. “Stands to reason he should know about it. But then again…”
        “Then again, what?”
        “Like I said before, I went through a few layers of paint… at least two, maybe more. So, it's possible, he doesn't know. He doesn't live on this end, after all.” She glanced over at me and shrugged. “Speaking of paint… that reminds me, I need to go back to the basement and try and find this color paint, so I can patch those nicks out there.”
        “Why bother?”
        “Well… just in case he doesn't know, then… we'll have ourselves a secret hideaway.” She arched her eyebrows suggestively.
“It's hardly big enough for that,” I countered.
She shrugged again. “Just a thought. Can't blame a girl for trying.”
“I hear ya. I just don't believe it. What's come over you?”
“I don't know, maybe it's the mystery… the intrigue… Or it could be having you trapped in such a small dark space.” The latter was said in a sinister voice, as she wrapped one arm around my waist. “Didn't I tell you I was a vampire?” She leaned over swiftly and attacked my neck.
        "No-o... I believe you neglected to... share that little bit of... information. But..." I turned my head to one side, allowing her better access and hissed like a vampire in the movies. "…who's really trapped with whom, hmm, my dear?"
        "I love you, Faith," she whispered in my ear. "Believe me this is as hard on me as it is on you. Maybe more." She nibbled on my neck, as her hands went around my waist, flashlight and all. "God, how I want you right this minute." Her right hand began moving towards my breast.
        I didn't want her to stop. But I felt she should. She was only teasing both of us. "Ah-ah-ah," I said, grabbing her hand. "Remember, you don't wanna take advantage of me."
        She groaned and relented. “Oh well, guess our little mystery… and adventure is… a wash, huh? Well, I should get outta here first so you can turn around easier.”
        “That might help.”
Maneuvering the walker around was hard enough, but even more so in such a tight space. I finally managed it, however.
"Now to find that paint,” she said, after shutting the hidden door behind me.
        “It's not that bad. Besides, what does it matter if he knows we found it?”
        “How you gonna explain what I was doing by the bathroom door?”
        “Hmph. Well, I'll… I'll say I hit it with my walker.”
        She glanced down at the molding. “Won't wash,” she objected. “You'd hit the molding first.” She flashed a half smirk as if to say, You know I'm right.
        “So, what happens if you can't find the paint?” I queried. I didn't want her leaving right now. I had designs on finishing what she'd started in the hidden closet.
"Well, then I know a..." She bit her lip and didn't finish.
        "Know a what?" I prodded.
        "I know a woman who has her own painting company."
        I sighed heavily. "One of your ex's, I assume?"
        "I don't have ex's. They're just friends. It's not like... I went around promising these women anything and then... not delivering. What they may have assumed is… something different."
        "You mean as long as you didn't say I promise to love you and live with you, you don't owe them anything, is that it?"
        She frowned. "I seldom said I love you, come to think of it. That should've told them something, right?"
        I sighed heavily once again and started towards the bed. "Whatever."
        She followed behind me. "I'm a terrible person, hmm?"
        "I didn't say that. But, how come you never stayed with any of them?"
        "I don't know. It just... never felt right, somehow. Maybe… I just wasn't right, up here," she offered, tapping her head.
        "You've been making excuses and running for too long, Sara." I sat down on the bed and made eye contact with her.
        She glanced from me to the unmade bed. “Yeah, well… I better go look for that paint.” She abruptly wheeled around and left the room.
        Two disappointments in one day! I fell back crossways of the bed and made a sound with my lips like a tired horse.

        September breezed into October and the trees started putting on their autumn coats of many colors. From my window, I could see a small patchwork quilt starting on the sloping hills surrounding the estate. Shady Grove was a beautiful place. But, it was not a place where I had been happy for very long.
        Sara was slowly regaining tiny bits and pieces of her memory, here and there. I could tell it was frustrating for her. It was almost like being handed puzzle pieces, a few at a time, which you tried to fit together and make sense out of, without knowing what the finished product should look like. And there was no box readily available where you could just reach in and draw out more pieces to consider, if these weren't to your liking.
        For several weeks, right after her initial breakthrough and our shared disappointment about the hidden closet, she became withdrawn and spent a lot of time in her room. Slowly, day-by-day, as the weather grew a little cooler, she started acting more like her old self. She stopped trying to force the memories, which seemed to have their own agenda about how and when to surface, as well as how much to reveal. The Swiss cheese was filling it, but it seemed to be a selective filling, which might well take years or may never be completely whole again.

        Halloween came and Brandon threw an elaborate party. He even hired some carnival people to set up a haunted house out on the grounds. I dressed up as an elderly gentleman. I figured this was the only thing that went with a walker, besides an elderly woman and I didn't want to wear the wig. I merely donned a hat, a coat Sara came up with somewhere and a pair of women's pants, which were too long in the stride. I pulled the pants nearly up to my breasts and put on a thin belt, then blacked out a few teeth, for good measure.
        Of course, Brandon frowned on my choice, as he escorted me down the stairway, but I wasn't about to wear the fairy princess outfit he'd chosen for me. My excuse to him was: I've never seen a crippled fairy. And I wasn't about to walk around with wings on my back that I couldn't use. At least not amongst his so-called friends, that would be asking for trouble in my opinion. Someone would inevitably remark, 'I thought fairies could fly' and I'd get pissed. And besides, at this of all parties, where everyone was free to dress anyway they chose, I wanted to be me. Not someone Brandon had managed to gussy up to like my mother.
        As I entered the living room, where buffet and drink tables had been set up, I looked around for Sara. She wouldn't tell me what she would be wearing, which irritated me a little. Then again, I'd always enjoyed a good mystery.
Everyone was dressed a bit unusual at this little bash or so I thought, taking in all the masks and expensive looking costumes. At first, I didn't like the masks because I couldn't tell who was who. But, after I walked around a while, I started to enjoy guessing whose face was hidden under what mask. Cleopatra was Lynn Darbon, Brandon's secretary. The old hag was none other than Celia. Julius Caesar was Brandon's vice president and Zorro was Kevin, the man I had met at a previous party and couldn't seem to lose. I was relieved to see him accompanied by Cinderella, whom I didn't know. But, that was nothing new, I actually knew less than a third of the people milling around.
        I finally gave up on the living room and made my way out to the haunted house. Surely I would find Sara here. As I maneuvered my way through the small hallways, dummies covered with fake blood popped out of walls and coffins; spiders, bats and other assorted things scuttled, flew or moved in some fashion, in order to frighten the passerby. And despite telling myself I wouldn't do it again, I jumped and yipped every time. As I neared the end, I noticed a very real looking dummy over in a dark corner. I was prepared for this one to jump out at me or do something else quite scary, as a finale, when the figure spoke. I nearly leapt out of my shoes right then and there!
        "Meet me upstairs," a sultry voice whispered.
        "Wh-What?" I asked, trying to calm my racing heart.
        The figure stepped out of the darkness. I was face-to-face with Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. It took me a few moments to recognize Sara underneath all the makeup and long dark hair. I glanced down at the costume and was not surprised to find she filled the dress out better than Elvira, herself.
        "Meet me upstairs," she said, seductively, as she ran one long red fingernail over my lips. "And make sure you aren't followed."
        "Why?" I called after her.
        She didn't even glance back, as she disappeared into the darkness of the haunted house. I wasn't sure what she was up to, but I definitely wanted to find out. The plunging neckline on that dress was enough to make me want to take the stairs two at a time. Of course, that was out of the question, since I could barely manage one.
        I strolled back to the buffet tables and got something to eat, mingled around, killed a little time, and hit the champagne table, twice for good measure. I found Brandon a bit later and thanked him for the wonderful party. I kissed him on the cheek for emphasis, since I had enjoyed this one more. I especially liked the fact that he hadn't seen fit to drag me around introducing me to everyone.
I could smell the liquor on his breath, as he returned the gesture, narrowly missing my mouth. I told him I was going to bed early, all this excitement had worn me out. He seemed to buy my story. Either that, or he was too far-gone to care. He said he'd give me my goodnight kiss now. I made sure I turned my cheek and he placed a lingering wet kiss on the side. "Love you, Princess," he whispered. I merely nodded.
        I knew he loved to play host and sometimes drank too much. I'd never seen him sloppy drunk, but I'd seen him pretty happy. And I could tell by his bloodshot eyes tonight, he was bordering on very happy. It wouldn't take long before he'd be talking up the single, intoxicated ladies.
        I moved through the crowd slowly and made my way back to the kitchen. Usually the parties were contained in the living room and patio area, but tonight there were people everywhere. I passed one couple necking by the double-door refrigerator. It appeared neither one was in any shape to care who was watching. To me, it was like catching a glimpse of an x-rated movie, because you could tell by the way they were going at each other, something was definitely going to happen. Scenes from the movie Fatal Attraction flashed through my mind, as I noticed his hand lifting her skirt. Garter belt, no less, I thought, progressing past them.
I sat down in the lift chair and held onto the walker, as the former ascended the stairway. Nothing like riding backwards up a flight of narrow stairs, holding onto a bulky walker. At the top, I heard noises from the east wing. I looked down the long hallway. The only light I saw was coming from my sitting room. Sara had told me to meet her upstairs, so I proceeded down the hall wondering what she was up to. I heard voices behind me and saw a couple entering one of the bedrooms on her side of the hall. I wondered if Brandon knew they were up here?
        I went through the sitting room, turned the bedside lamp on and glanced around. The room was unoccupied. I was disappointed. I reasoned she might not have anticipated me coming up this soon, so I went to the bathroom and removed my costume. Since I knew Brandon wasn't coming up, I donned only the top of my pjs. It was rare having a chance to be reckless.
         I had just climbed into bed when the light in my sitting room went off. I assumed it was Sara and she wanted to scare me, so I dimmed the lamp. "Princess," called Brandon. My heart sank. "Are you alright?"
        "Yes, I'm fine, just a bit tired… as I told you."
        "Well, I thought I'd say goodnight before you went to sleep," he said, as if he didn't remember doing so downstairs. I assumed he was further gone than I thought. Then I noticed he carried a glass of milk in his hand.
        "Thank you," I said, as he put it down on the nightstand.
        "Goodnight, Princess," he said, placing a long, lingering kiss on my cheek.
        After he left, I felt very disappointed. I wondered if Sara had meant for me to meet her in her room. So, I got up, put on my shorts and walked across the hall. She wasn't there, either. She musta meant much later on, I reasoned. As I crossed the hall again, I glimpsed another couple disappearing into the darkness of one of the rooms. I was glad the walls were thick. I walked back into my bedroom and shut the double doors. I thought about locking them, because of the people coming upstairs, but still held out hope Sara would soon be coming through them.
        When I turned around, I immediately noticed that the light I assumed was coming from my lamp was actually coming from a candle on the nightstand. I heard a noise off to my right and a figure stepped out of the shadows of the bathroom. My heart jumped up in my throat. It was Sara, wearing a long, black, revealing negligee. This wasn't the costume she'd been wearing previously, although she appeared to have retained the wig, because her hair was very dark.
        “Holy-moly!” I gasped. “You scared the shit outta me! Where have you been?”
        “I've been waiting for you,” she answered in a deep, sultry voice, as she moved towards me.
        “Well, I've been right here, I just stepped out to…”
“Ssh! No, please,” she interjected, placing a finger against her own lips. “Don't say anything, Faith.” My eyes had followed this movement and then slid over to her hair, the dark, silky mane highlighted by the candle's glow. Great wig, I thought absently, my gaze following these flowing tresses down to the plunging neckline of the negligee, cut into a “V” shape and ending just about her navel.
I swallowed audibly as she drew closer, the sheer fabric molded to her breasts. “There's something I wanna say to you," she whispered, stopping in front of me. My gaze lifted to meet hers. Candlelight danced in those soft green depths. "Remember when I said someday we'd be together?” She reached up and took my face in her hands, leaning in closer still. “Well someday… is tonight,” she breathed against my lips.
A barely audible moan issued from my throat as our lips touched. A fire ignited in my loins. My heart skipped a beat and then began to race, as her wet tongue parted my lips and slid inside. My legs trembled when our tongues began that intriguing mating dance.
“Sure you're ready for this?” she inquired, easing back from our passionate lip-lock. Her face was in shadow now. I could only imagine her eyes darting back and forth, searching mine as they often did.
“Y-Yes,” I answered, sounding breathless.
She moved off to one side and I heard the door being locked behind me. Putting one arm around my waist, she took the walker from me with the other, setting it aside. “You won't be needin' this anymore tonight.”
Then she led me to the bed.
My legs were trembling, heart racing ninety miles an hour, body tingling with anticipation when she sat me down on the side of the bed. Her gaze held mine for several heartbeats. Slowly, she reached out and touched my face. I kissed the palm of her hand. She smiled and yet, I sensed reluctance, hesitation on her part.
“What?” I ventured.
“I… I had this all planned in my mind, but…” She nibbled her lower lip.
“Life isn't like the movies?” I finished, when she offered nothing further.
“Ya got that right,” she agreed, her thumb caressing my chin.
“Are you… having second thoughts?” I reached out for her other hand. Our fingers interlaced without a moment's hesitation.
She shook her head. “No. I… I think I'm more nervous than… you are.” Her voice quavered. “I want this to be… memorable for you. I want everything… to be…”
“It doesn't have to be perfect,” I interjected. “Let's just play it be ear, hmm? One kiss… at a time.”
A genuine smile now, as she leaned over and our lips met once again. Warmth surged through my loins. My arms went around her neck. I lay back, crossways of the bed, pulling her down with me.
“Oof!” she hissed against my cheek a moment later. I had felt her lose her balance and then catch herself with her elbows before her weight fell fully upon me. She quickly shifted her weight off to one side now. “Definitely not like the movies,” she said, gazing down at me from her propped up position.
“We don't know what happens between takes. We only see what they show us.” My eyes drifted down to the negligee, where her left breast was barely concealed by the silky black material.
I swallowed hard, feeling fireworks going off in my stomach. I wanted to see her body fully exposed to my view. I wanted to touch and explore. Having obviously noticed where my attention had strayed, she reached over and took my hand, placing it on her shoulder near the negligee's strap. No more prodding was needed. My fingers inched beneath the thin material, my hand caressing her shoulder and arm while moving the strap out of the way.
I could feel her watching me, as the negligee fell away, revealing her breast. My hand trembled as another fireball erupted in my lower abdomen. Beautiful, my mind declared, as I stared at the light brown areole, tightening and shrinking, while the budding nipple, a shade darker, gradually rose higher with each passing moment. The urge to touch this part of her anatomy, feel the changes as they happened, was nearly overwhelming. I licked my lips involuntarily and met her gaze. Candlelight danced in those green depths, as she moved back just enough for my hand to slide off her arm and onto her breast.
A low moan escaped her lips, while a loud gasp slipped past mine. I closed my eyes as an intense explosion erupted in my groin area and sent sparks cascading in all directions. But my hand did not leave her breast. It seemed to have a mind of it's own now. I caressed the firm round globe, my thumb rubbing back and forth across the burgeoning nipple. My analytical mind wanted to make sense of why this felt so good, but other forces silenced and overrode it.
The next thing I knew she had one leg between mine, her hand on my thigh -underneath the leg of my shorts- and was kissing the side of my cheek, headed for my mouth. “We need to… scoot up… in the bed,” she mumbled around the kisses she was showering upon my face and lips.
“Um-hmm,” I agreed, but made to effort to do so. The hand in my shorts was inching beneath the backside of my underwear, the thigh between my legs pressing against the very center of my desire. I could hardly think, much less move.
“Get out… of these… clothes,” she said, as if continuing her previous thought.
This somehow filtered through on a different level. No clothes! I thought. “You first,” I said. She moaned in response, but didn't stop what she was doing: kissing my neck and caressing my backside.
“Sweet Jesus,” she hissed and finally broke contact. She sat up on the side of the bed, one breast exposed, the shoulder strap completely off her arm, dangling by her side. Her face bore a slight flush; her lips a rosy red hue; her hair framed all this in a dark oval shape. I thought she'd never looked more beautiful.
But I was wrong. For, in the next few moments she was on her feet, removing the other shoulder strap and allowing the negligee to slide off her body, forming a puddle at her feet. Lovely… Magnificent… were the words that came to mind as my eyes traversed the plains of her body. A trail of light brown fuzz down the center of her torso drew me eyes to the dark brown triangular patch of curls at the apex of her thighs.
In the next few minutes I realized just how right she had been about waiting until I could maneuver around better on my own. Removing my clothes and properly positioning myself in the bed was not nearly as awkward, nor as hard, as it could have been. I didn't feel as much like a cripple when she eased into bed beside me. Matter of fact, as she hovered over me, her long hair falling around my face, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. And yet, in the next moment, I was once again proven wrong. When her naked body touched mine –skin so warm, soft and smooth- my breath completely left me. I was certain I was going to die right then and there. Moist lips caressed mine, an eager tongue probed the interior and much needed air was somehow drawn into my lungs. As with any fire, oxygen fed the flames of the inferno burning inside my loins. Every touch, every kiss, ever sensation thereafter sent shockwaves throughout my system. The very center of my being was bombarded with one explosion after another, as she slowly positioned herself between my thighs. We both moaned, though not quite in unison: hers sounding more like an echo of my own. My loins were aflame and pulsing with wanton lust.
“Oh God!” I breathed. “Sweet Jes-sus!” she hissed, when she pressed her lower body against mine. My hands were soon in her hair, her lips sucking on my neck, our bodies moving in time to an intrinsic rhythm.
In some distant part of my mind, it registered that the mass of hair, in which my hands were intertwined, was not a wig. I didn't dwell on it, however. Nor could I, if I'd wanted to. There were far more pressing issues at hand.
“I never dreamed… it would feel… this good,” I murmured breathlessly.
“Oh yes, baby,” she responded, her right hand trailing down my side, lips inching towards my mouth.
As she kissed me, I felt her raise up slightly, her hand slipping between our bodies. The first touch from her fingertips sent a shudder through me that rocked me all the way down to my toes. A small squeak, emanating from my throat, escaped our joined lips. A low moan was her response, fingertips inching further downward, stroking my desire.
I was now lost in an entirely new world composed solely of immensely pleasurable sensations. I could hear my moans and sighs as if they were coming from somewhere in the distance. It wasn't until a warm mouth closed around my left breast and a questing appendage eased into my inner sanctuary that this world exploded and I was propelled into yet another one. I was floating, soaring, flying and finally blasting off into the outer reaches of some inner landscape, oblivious to everything else. I felt detached from my body for an all too brief and awe-inspiring moment. My body shuddered in response. Gibberish streamed past my lips in a torrent. Colors burst before my closed lids resembling a fireworks display. Tears stung my eyes as the scattered embers showered down around me like a fine mist of rain. “Uh-h-uh-uh-h,” my mouth spewed forth over and over, as my lower body convulsed in spasms.
“Yes, baby,” she softly whispered near my ear.
My body shuddered once more and then went limp as a dishrag. Tears sprang from my eyes, as a surge of emotion overwhelmed me. I cried like a baby, while she held me, raining kisses upon my face and neck.
“I'm… I'm sor-ry,” I blubbered, once I regained some semblance of control.
“Ssh-h… there's no need to be sorry, sweetheart,” she soothed.
“But… I'm cryin'… I… I shouldn't cry… I should be… hap-py.”
She chuckled deep in her throat and nuzzled her face against mine. “Remember when we discussed how crying and laughing sometimes… cause the same reactions… tears?”
“Umph,” and a slight nod was the extinct of my response.
She raised up and looked down at me. “Well, this is one of those times when… it's hard to tell the difference.” A sweet smile graced her face, as she reached up and wiped a tear from my cheek with her thumb.
“I… I love you, Sara,” I blubbered.
“I love you too, Faith. So very much.” She kissed my tears away.

It took a while for the tears to subside and my emotions to return to normal, but once they did, I was ready, willing and eager to, at least attempt, giving back to her the same pleasure she'd seen fit to shower upon me. I felt awkward and clumsy at first, merely exploring the surface of her body. I found her nipples quite fascinating. The feel of those erect protrusions between my fingers quite a stimulating experience. I had no idea how much more intoxicating these could be, until I bravely lowered my mouth onto one. She moaned with pleasure, her hand pressing against the back of my head. I sucked lightly on the engorged membrane. She moaned louder and my tongue was suddenly tantalized by a flavor I wouldn't soon forget. My taste buds seemed to erupt, sending lancing bolts of lightning down my torso, where they exploded inside my loins. I sucked harder and was once again rewarded with the unique taste sensations that had set the center of my desire pulsing.
“My… god!” I murmured, going back for more.
She whimpered and shifted her left leg, which lay between mine, pushing it against my throbbing hub. My mind went blank, as my body sought to satisfy it's own urges by slowly rubbing against her leg. Vaguely do I remember her hand leading mine down to the dark brown thatch of curls at the juncture of her thighs. When my fingertips encountered the incredible warmth and moisture they found there, however, my own urges were suddenly shoved into the background. My hand once again had a mind of its own, my fingertips already inching their way into the silky, slick warmth.
“Oh yes,” I mumbled against her breast. I couldn't ever remember these appendages encountering anything more inviting and exciting. “Show me how to please you,” I whispered, leaving her breast for her lips.
She pressed my fingers against her and then propelled them back and forth over the slick folds and protruding nub. She moaned in unison with each slow stroke. In a burst of utter clarity, I now remembered what she had done to me. I took over from there.
        I moaned along with her when my middle finger slid effortlessly into her slick well of desire. Soft hot tissue surrounded and engulfed it, squeezing and relaxing in rhythm with each stroke.
        “Uh-huh!” she breathed, her hand pressing against my back, her hips now arching and pulling me deeper. After a few moments, she urged, “M-More.”
        I wasn't sure what she wanted, but I pressed against her harder and raised up to gauge her reaction. Languid green eyes opened slowly and gazed up at me. “More of you… inside me,” she murmured.
        The mere words alone sent a shiver up my spine, heat rushing to my cheeks and set off a series of volcanic eruptions in my loins. We moaned in unison as I sought to oblige her request. She buried her face in the crook of my neck and her fingernails in my back, her hips arching to meet each successive thrust.
        “Oh yes, oh yes… Sweet Jesus, don't stop…Oh yeah, baby… Ung-h-h!” She shuddered several times and then fell still. “Oh-ho-ho, Oh-ho-ho,” she sighed and then began showering my neck with kisses. She sucked on my earlobe and growled in my ear, while the inner walls of her desire contracted against my fingers. “Don't ever leave me,” she whispered, wrapping both arms around me and then squeezing my buttocks.
        “Never,” I responded, feeling the dampness against my cheek, which had obviously originated from her eyes.

        Being with her that night, was the most wonderful experience I'd ever had in my entire life. Our lovemaking far exceeded my expectations and fantasies. As we lay back, I expected this to be the end of our initial consummation, because in the movies the lovers usually smoked a cigarette afterwards. Perhaps that's what they did in the movies, but resting was not what Sara had in mind. She didn't even let the flames of passion die down to embers, before she was fanning them again and creating one hell of a raging inferno inside me.
        "I could make love to you all night," she whispered.
        "Please do," I responded and meant it. I wanted to blend with her, become a part of her, as we explored the realms of the most intimate of paths two people could traverse together.
        It was also the shortest night of my entire life. Time slipped through our fingers like miniscule grains of sand on a windy day. There was no stopping it, no holding it back. Time waits for no man…or woman. The candle burned out before we drifted off to sleep in the wee hours of the morning.

        When I awoke, Sara was lying next to me. I was curled up to her back, my arm around her waist, my body molded to hers, as if we were two parts of a jigsaw puzzle that fit together perfectly. She was still asleep and I felt, as well as heard, each soft sighing exhalation that passed her lips. I ran my hand over her naked body, enjoying the feel of each and every curve within my reach. I tingled all over at the response from her smooth, firm breasts, as I fondled both in turn. Slowly, I worked my way downward.
        I must have aroused her, for she moaned softly. "Umm... sweetheart..." She shifted her legs slightly, allowing me entrance to the area I sought. I kissed her on the shoulder, my fingers intent on exploring that most intimate and sensitive of regions. "Umm... Faith... oh... baby..."
        "Yes-s," I whispered, pressing my lower body against the backside of hers.
        She reached back and ran her hand over my thigh. "Ah, yes... Umm… Are you sure you were a virgin?" she inquired, her tone husky and soft.
        "Um-hmm... why?"
        "Umm... Then you're a... quick study."
        "I had a good teacher."
        "Oh-h?" she said, as she shifted her position and turned over on her back.
        "Uh-huh. A very good one," I remarked.
        She reached up and brushed a strand of curly brown hair out of my eyes, as I repositioned myself beside her. I leaned over and attacked her right breast. I had yet to cease what I'd started previously. "Oh, Faith..." she said, pressing against the back of my head.
        Suddenly, I felt her flinch. "Damn!" She hissed. "What time is it?" She raised up, taking me with her.
        I glanced around at the clock on the VCR. "Ten after nine," I replied.
        "WHEW!” she sighed, sounding like air escaping from a tire. “Thank God, Brandon should be gone to work." She eased back onto the mattress, taking me with her again. "Now where were we, hmm?"
        I hated to tell her, but I didn't think Brandon would be going in to work today, because he probably had one hell of a hangover. Instead of worrying her needlessly, however - the door was locked, after all- I picked up where I'd left off.

        "Awh... baby... oh yes... Awh, Faith... oh... yes... AWHHHHH!" she exclaimed into the back of her arm, muffling the sound. She flinched involuntarily several times and then went limp. "Oh Jee-sus," she breathed, taking her arm away from her face. "Cum'mere you..." I was raising up, when there was a knock on the door. "Holy shit!" she cursed quietly and started to get up.
        I put my hand on her stomach. "Ssh." I admonished. I didn't really care whether Brandon found out or not, because I was ready to leave this place. Blowing his top would only hasten my departure. I hated to witness it, though. I couldn't imagine how hideous a scene it might be.
I waited for the next knock. It didn't sound like Brandon to me. "Y-yes," I called, trying to sound sleepy. It wasn't hard.
        "Miss Faith," Celia called. "Breakfus', 'mum."
        I felt the tension go right out of Sara's body, as she breathed a very heavy sigh of relief.
        "Umm, would you mind just leaving it... on the table out there. I... Well, I locked my doors because of the party and I... I'm ashamed to admit it but, I have a bit of a hangover this morning and I'm afraid if I try..."
        "Yes, 'mum," she called back, interrupting me. "I understand."
        "Thank you, Celia."
        I heard her put the tray down. "Oh by the by, 'mum, if you see Miss Sara tell her... I took her breakfus' back to the kitchen ta warm."
        I ran my hand over Sara's stomach. "Yes, Celia, I'll tell her… soon as I see her."
        "Thank you, 'mum."
        "Oh, Celia?"
        "Yes, 'mum?"
        "On second thought, would you mind taking mine back also? I... I don't believe I feel up to getting out of bed right now." I was looking down at Sara and grinning slyly.
        "Ya want I should come back at a certain time, 'mum?"
        "Umm... I... " I wanted to ask Sara: How long ya think this'll take? But, instead I answered, "No. Don't worry about it. I'll come down for breakfast, when I feel better."
        "Very good, 'mum." I heard Celia's footsteps receding.
        "Are you feeling poorly?" Sara whispered teasingly, as she brushed my hair out of my eyes.
        I shook my head. "Fine as wine. And you?"
        "Well, I was gonna say if you felt bad… I could try and make you feel better." She ran her index finger over my lips.
        "On second thought, I feel real bad. Terrible, in fact. I think I need a nurse right away. Think you could go find one for me?"
        She grinned broadly and rolled me over on my back. "I better be the only nurse you let take care of you... this way," she responded and attacked my lips.

Part 13

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