Atypical Vacation

[spoonmaster]

Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve posted something of substance here, and thought it was high time to get back in the saddle, well a little bit in the saddle.

I’m working on editing a new project, but who knows when I’ll actually get around to finishing it.  So instead, in an effort to build up some karma, I’m gonna start by posting a completely written, fully edited piece of work that I wrote a good while back.  This ones a doozie, 141 pages long, but I’ll dole it out in bite sized chunks every couple of days to prolong the experience. 

This is not a new story.  I posted it years ago on a different amazon website that has since crashed, loosing all my stuff.  Fortunately, I had this one saved on my computer.  There’s a good chance a lot of you have already read this, but hopefully it will be new to some of you.

For those of you not familiar with my work, I tend to write stories about incredibly powerful women.  My women tend to be sweet, and of a realistic build, though most are quite firmly planted in the Mary Sue category, as is the heroine of this story.  If that’s not your cup of tee, then this is most certainly not the story for you.

One last thing before I begin, I was given a lot of help editing this story by Pac and Michael-Leonard, who were both major contributors over at the aforementioned website, so I have them to thank for the thing not sounding like it was written by a 5 year old boy. 

And so, without any further ado, I give you what someone once generously referred to as my magnum opus.




Atypical Vacation



SUNDAY (part 1)


I woke up with a slight hangover. It could have been worse. It should have been worse.
I just graduated yesterday with my MBA. I really can’t believe I was finally done with
school. After preschool, kindergarten, 12 years of grade school, 4 years of undergrad,
and 2 years at the Wharton School of Business, I was finally finished! I should’ve gotten
plastered enough to erase all memory of what happened.

Instead I was up at 6am on the Sunday after I graduated, starting a pot of coffee before
jumping in the shower, hoping to drown whatever remnants of my hangover my shower
couldn’t wash off.

I dressed in khakis and a button down shirt, and then threw on a tie. Suits and ties
weren’t required for weekend work unless you were seeing clients (and interns never sat
with clients), but I wanted to leave a strong impression, which was also the reason I was
going in two days after what was supposed to be my last day.

It wasn’t for nothing. Last week, Illumina announced it was buying Riverbed
Technology. Normally I could care less, but Illumina was going public in a month and
we were bringing it public. Nobody at Citigroup knew anything about Riverbed
Technology, so I spent the past week preparing a briefing memo on Riverbed that Jack
was supposed to share with the associates. It was a basic overview of the company
history, its current infrastructure and its long-term earnings potential. There was little
doubt the same info was being prepared by research assistants that worked for far more
powerful men than Jack Mitchell, but none of those powerful men would be writing the
recommendation that someone long on education yet short on experience would need to
get his foot in the door for his first paying job.

I got to the office an hour before the meeting, my headache reduced to a dull throb, and
went over the presentation one more time. The call from Jack came five minutes late,
which came as no surprise, and I got right to it. I gave him a fifty page-briefing memo to
go along with my 45-minute presentation. I patiently answered all of his questions,
jotting down a few notes of my own. Knowing what things a guy like Jack Mitchell
found important about Riverbed Technology would help me later when I was trying to
dissect companies on my own.

My hard work and dedication had finally paid off. Jack thanked me on my way out the
door, shoving a letter of recommendation into my hands as he was going through the
address book in his cell phone. I didn’t dare look at it until I was well out of his sight
and breathed a sigh of relief after I saw that it was exactly what I was hoping for. I made
twenty-five copies before I left the office.

The first thing I did when I got home was to stuff a copy of the recommendation into the
application envelopes I already had prepared. I had applications going out to Goldman
Sachs, Morgan Stanley, Deutsche Bank, JP Morgan, Merrill Lynch, and Citigroup, as
well as half-dozen local banks in Providence and Philadelphia. I was counting on getting
a job at Citigroup -- I felt I made a very good impression there -- but I wasn’t hanging my
hat on anything. I had another dozen applications ready to go in case my first batch was
met by a bunch of ding letters.

I breathed a sigh of relief as the envelopes went into the mailbox. Finally I was done.
Now it was time for the fun to begin. My friends had planned a great graduation
celebration: a week in Hawaii! At first I was opposed to the idea. Money was tight, and
I was trying to save up for the down payment on a condo or townhouse, but my friends
surprised me by offering to cover my share. I was stunned at the tremendous display of
generosity and instantly refused. We were talking thousands of dollars here, and there
was no way I was letting anyone front me that kind of money. But my friends would not
be denied and, after enduring months of pestering, I finally relented. Besides, I always
wanted to go to Hawaii. It was going to be the vacation of a lifetime.

I spent most of the last couple months doing whatever favor I could think of for my
friends: mowing grass, doing laundry and driving the carless wherever they wanted to go.
They seemed to think it was all very funny, but I needed to assuage my guilt somehow.
We got a Saturday-to-Saturday rental. I originally intended to fly out there with everyone
else the day before, but then this thing happened at work and I had to change my flight to
Sunday. That was one of the reasons my graduation day was pretty lame. All of my best
friends flew out right after the ceremony, so I was stuck hanging out with acquaintances
that I graduated with and my family.

But now all of that was about to change. School was over, my internship was over, and I
was unemployed. It was time to party. I popped open a Corona to get me into the mood
as I changed my clothes. A tee shirt, shorts and flip-flops wasn’t quite heavy enough for
mid-May in Pennsylvania, but it would be perfect for Oahu.

My bags were all packed and I had all my documentation. All that was left was to call a
cab to take me to the airport. There was a knock on the door as I whipped out my cell. I
opened the door as I was dialing and nearly dropped the phone when I saw who was
there. The tallest woman I had ever seen was standing there, and I mean tall! She was a
head taller than I was and I was 6’3”! I had never even heard of a woman that tall! She
was dressed in a very formal looking chauffeur’s outfit. A dark gray skirt went down to
her knees with black nylons that ended in high-heeled shoes. Her bright, white shirt and
matching jacket fit tightly around her trim form, bulging around her impressive chest.
Her short cropped brown hair stuck out under an official looking hat and was pulled back
from a very pretty face and twinkling hazel eyes.

“Are you Mr. Paul Fisher?” Her deep voice was surprisingly gentle for someone so big.

“I am indeed.” I gasped as I peered around her to check out the car she came in. The trip
was bad enough, but the size of the limo waiting in front of my house was ridiculous.
What did I do to deserve such amazing friends?

The tall woman gave me a warm smile. “My name is Mariana. I’ll be taking you to the
airport today.”

“Sweet, just give me a second.” I went back inside, grabbed my bags, dropped them on
the porch and turned to lock the door. By the time I had turned back around, Mariana had
plucked my two bags off the ground and carried them easily to the limo. The carry-on
bag was nothing, but my suitcase was right up against the 50lb weight limit. Mariana
handled it with an ease that I found a bit arousing. Even more arousing was the sight of
her walking down toward the limo. Most of her body was covered up in her conservative
uniform, but her lower legs were bare, and impressive sized calf muscles bulged with
every step. Not huge, but nice and defined, like a runners legs. Jesus, with legs that long
she could probably run like a gazelle, if those large melons on her chest didn’t get in the
way.

I had a very secret admiration, hell an outright lust, for strong, powerful women, though I
took great pains to hide it. I found that most guys were either turned off or intimidated
by powerful women, so I kept my own desires on the down low. Only Mike knew of my
little fetish, and that’s only because I found out that he shared a similar fetish that I
stumbled onto quite by accident. Still it made me wonder if it was just chance that my
driver was a fit, strong, busty woman. I felt a little self-conscious that all my friends
might be on to my secret, but quickly dismissed the thought. Mike was every bit as
secretive of his desires as I was; there was no way he’d share our secret with my friends.

The inside of the limo was amazing: completely decked out with flat screen TVs, Sirius
radio, plush comfy seats, and a well-stocked minibar. I nursed another beer on the way to
the airport (I wasn’t sure if the drinks came with the car, and my friends had already
shelled out enough) as I daydreamed about Mariana lifting me out of the limo and
carrying me into the airport like a little child, or better yet, pressing me over her head like
I was a pillow. It was a completely ludicrous fantasy, considering I weighed more than
240lbs, but a guy could dream.

We cut the arrival at the airport close, and my heart sank when I saw the line at the
United desk. I’d miss my plane by hours if I had to wait in that line, but Mariana had
different plans. She had followed me into the airport, carrying my luggage. It made me
feel a bit like a douche, a big guy like me having a woman carrying his luggage, but she
grabbed them before I could and made no move to hand them over to me. Besides, she
was wearing a uniform, which I guess made it okay.

Mariana strode past the crowd without even looking at it and walked right up to the first
class line, which didn’t have anyone in it at all. Before I could even tell her that my
ticket was coach, Marianna pulled some kind of card out of her jacket pocket. The teller
took one look at the card and then broke into a warm smile.

“Ah, one of our preferred customers. Well let me see your ticket and we’ll get you all
set up.”

I handed my ticket over, impressed. Maybe that was part of the limo service. I was
going to have to thank my friends profusely; they seemed to have thought of everything.
Things just kept getting better as the ticket agent told me, “Well, it looks like you’ve been
upgraded to first class.”

My jaw dropped. A coach ticket to Hawaii was a nice present, but a first class ticket had
to cost a fortune, I was going to have to mow a lot more lawns. I certainly wasn’t
complaining though. It was a ten-hour flight, and cramming my big body in coach for
even half that time would be uncomfortable to say the least.

Mariana handed over my suitcase to the ticket agent and then escorted me right up to
security. The same card got me into some exclusive VIP line and in moments I was
ready to go through the scanner. Marianna finally handed me my carry on, politely
refusing the tip I tried to slip into her hand. “Enjoy your trip, Mr. Fisher.” She said with
a pleasant smile. And then she was gone.

First class was awesome. Not only were the seats roomy, but the drinks were free and the
flight attendants were around far more often to keep them refreshed. I got through the
long flight with my iPod, a new book, the in-flight movie and a lot of sleep. By the time
we landed, I was ready to party!

[rodman]

  I remember you from the other website. Glad to see you posting one of your stories. I look forward to reading the rest of it. I hope you get lots of Karma! 

[Jeremy Lightning]

This is one of my favorite stories of yours, I don't want to spoil it for everyone else who hasn't had a chance to read it, but this is definitely going to be a feast for the eyes for a lot of readers here. I wonder, are you writing anything new spoonmaster?

[nickolai]

I remember this story well.  Easy to say you are one of my favorite authors so it’s great to hear you are working on something.  Almost impossible to say which of your stories is my favorite as they all are so freaking good, but this would def be a contender.

[spoonmaster]

Well thank you for the warm wishes.  This is a really long story with a lot of character development, and takes a bit to get started, but I promise you the payout is pretty good once we get there.

I’ve become too busy to write too much new stuff, which is why I’m posting this old completed story.  There are a couple projects I’m working on.  I just finished the second, and hopefully last, draft of a short story I wrote that Michelle Le Rainbow is doing some pics for.  I’m not sure when it’s going to be done, but when it is I’ll let you know where you can purchase it.

I also recently had a commission story done for me that inspired me so much that I started tweaking it.  tweaking turned into radical changes, and the story now is twice as long as it was when I started working on it.  To my knowledge, it has not been posted anywhere, so when I do finally finish editing it, it should be new.  Even if the original writer, to whom I will give ample credit when I start to post it, does wind up posting his version, mine will be different enough, kind of like a directors cut.  I will start posting that after I get this one out.  Posting this one in smaller chunks will hopefully give me the time I need to finish editing the newer story.

And so, without anymore babbling here is the next part of my tale.  It’s a pretty big info dump... you have been forewarned!



Sunday (part 2)


I was a little surprised that none of my friends were there to pick me up at the airport, and
even more surprised that they sent a driver, which seemed like an unnecessary expense.

No tall, leggy chauffeur this time, just a middle aged Hawaiian guy with a friendly smile and
a Volvo station wagon. We threw my luggage in the back, and I played the part of the
tourist as my driver headed out into Honolulu.

It was a pretty, if small, city that could have been anywhere if it weren’t for all the palm
trees and the ocean bordering one side, but I gawked nonetheless. My parents were never
all that big on traveling. The most exotic place I’d ever been was New Jersey.
As we moved away from downtown, a sweeping mountain range covered with lush,
tropical trees dominated the scenery to the left. To my right, the road traveled along the
ocean, showing miles of sandy white shores that were constantly assailed by moderately
sized waves.

As we wrapped around the bottom of the mountains, the houses started to thin out and get
progressively bigger and bigger. There were some truly gigantic places along the road
here. Some butted right up against the street, while others nestled back a bit to offer
some privacy. I was more than a little surprised when my driver pulled into one.
A large gate opened before us, leading to a winding driveway that meandered through a
vast array of vividly colored wild flowers. The driveway crept down a hill that hid the
house from road and neighbors.

The house itself was spectacular: a sprawling tropical villa that was beautifully
landscaped with plants and trees. A babbling brook wandered lazily across the property,
with tiny footbridges crossing it in several areas. A stone path connected a three-car
garage to the three separate buildings that made up the estate. The folds of the land hid
the main road with the mountain looming behind me. I could see the ocean around the
other side of the house, the twilight sky twinkling across its rippling surface. It looked
like the kind of place rich people would stay in; much, much nicer than my friends could
possibly afford. As nice as it was, it seemed kind of small for all eight of us. Not that it
mattered all that much. We were young and in our prime. I'd happily sleep on the floor
for the whole week to stay in an awesome oceanfront place like this.

I only saw one car in the driveway, a brand-new-looking, open-aired Jeep Wrangler.
That was cool. I’d always wanted to own one of those, but they got such terrible write
ups for quality in every car magazine that I steered clear. Still, it would be pretty
awesome to get to drive one around all week; especially with the perfect, 85-degree
weather we were expecting. It did seem like an impractical car for our needs. The jeep
had four seats, but the two people sitting in the back would be crammed in there pretty
good, and we were all pretty big guys. I guess the other car was much bigger, but it was
not out where I could see it. Everyone must have already gone out partying. I wondered
who drew the short straw and had to sit around waiting for me.

I fished out some money to tip the driver, but was again refused. The guy said the tip
was already covered and bade me to enjoy my stay before driving off. I took another
moment to admire the beautiful place before picking up my luggage and heading toward
the biggest of the three buildings.

The inside was as amazing as the outside. Plush, comfortable furniture filled the living
area. The walls and tables were decorated with a smattering of tasteful and very nice art.
I was a little stunned my friends would pick a place like this. We partied pretty hard and
had caused our fair share of incidental property damage over the years. We'd have to be
careful around here -- some of this stuff looked like it would be really expensive to
replace.

The foyer lead into a very open floor plan with a large kitchen that looked like something
out of the Food Network next to an awesome living room. A doorway on either side of
the room led further through the house with only one closed door visible. The room only
had only three walls. Where the fourth wall would have been was open to the outside,
offering an amazing view of the pool, and the rolling waves of the ocean beyond.

The room was set up like someone was expecting a romantic evening, which was weird,
because none of the guys were dating either of the girls that were coming. Nonetheless
the place was immaculate, the lights were dimmed, a soft fire was crackling in the
fireplace, and some quiet, tropical music floated through the air. Fresh cut flowers filled
the empty spaces, providing a fresh, pleasant aroma. There wasn't luggage strewn all
over the place like I'd expect, or loud rock music, or the sound of half drunk college kids
partying like rock stars.

In fact, where the hell was everybody? There was still a car in the driveway, which
meant someone had to be here. Yet I didn't hear anyone. I whipped out my phone,
getting ready to call Will and see where everyone was, when a voice stopped me.

"Hi, Paul."

The sound was so soft I almost didn't hear it over the music, yet so unexpected that it
made me jump a little bit. I turned around, and there was Jamie.

Now, I had done several things I was quite proud of. I graduated college Magna Cum
Laude from the University of Rhode Island and gotten accepted to the Wharton School of
Business, where I graduated with a 3.24 GPA. I didn’t think that was too shabby for all
the partying I did. I had landed a well-sought-after internship that I beat a lot of people
out for, and performed at a high level if I do say so myself.

I had built up a powerful physique through years of training in the gym and was one of
the strongest guys I knew. I could bench 365lbs for my max at a body weight of 245lbs.
My body was lean and muscular, giving me a striking presence. I had learned to play the
guitar pretty well, and had a decent singing voice. And to top it all off, I had managed to
save up enough money for a decent down payment on my eventual house. But the one
thing I was most proud of was Jamie Collins.

Jamie had been my neighbor for years before I we had ever met, but I can still remember
that first meeting like it was yesterday. I was 11 and walking home during my first
month of middle school when I saw her for the first time. She was sitting on her front
step, all alone, crying. She was so tiny and thin, she looked so frail, I couldn’t help but to
feel sorry for her. I felt compelled to ask her what was wrong. It turned out that her
parents had separated several months ago. Her mom, in an effort to maintain her
daughter’s standard of living (and perhaps keep herself so busy that she could forget her
own problems), picked up a second job to make more money. The money was fine but it
left Jamie, an only child and only seven years old at the time, home by herself far too
often. She was also battling her own depression from being abandoned by her father.
She was in no state of mind to be left alone.

My heart broke as she recounted her tale. I was an only child myself with two working
parents, though I had a nanny to watch me when I came home. Right then and there, I
promised myself that I would never let her be alone again. A strong conviction for a 6th
grader, but one I made good on through the years.

I practically raised Jamie: helping her with her homework, getting her involved in after
school activities, going to watch her plays and games and spending as much time with her
as possible. I gave her my ear whenever she needed it, and even confided in her from
time to time to help build trust between us. It didn’t take long before we became best
friends.

It took awhile, but eventually we worked through her depression, and the shy little girl
grew in confidence. Jamie was an amazing kid. She was crazy smart, and seemed to
soak up knowledge like a sponge. I never had to tell her anything more than once before
she had it committed to memory. Besides that first quarter, when I met her and she was
going through her depression, she got straight A’s throughout the rest of middle school
and high school. She was so damn smart she started helping me with my homework!
Not only was she smart, but she was an incredibly gifted athlete. She enjoyed playing
softball, basketball and soccer and excelled in all three. She was an all-star all through
little league and made varsity her freshman year in all three sports. By her senior year,
all three teams she was on were state champions, thanks in no small part to her amazing
abilities.

And on top of all that, she was an incredibly sweet girl. She was very humble despite all
of her talents. She was kind and considerate to all around her, helpful to those who
needed help, and gave freely of her time to several charities. She was funny and
personable, and was one of the most popular kids at school.

I was there to support her every step of the way and care for every one of her needs. At
first I wasn’t ready for the time commitment. I tried to juggle school, my own extra
curricular activities, a social life, and Jamie. I was completely unsuccessful. My grades
tanked through middle school. It got to the point where I had to give something up to get
into a good college.

Sports were the first thing to go. I had always been big, and a pretty good athlete, but I
had no delusions that I would be making a living as a professional athlete. So I stopped
all sports except for on an occasional basis. It helped, but it wasn’t enough, so once I
started high school, I cut my social life almost completely out. Jamie wound up being not
only my best friend, but one of my only friends.

I graduated high school with pretty good grades, good enough to get accepted to the
University of Pennsylvania, my dream school, but I wound up not going. Jamie had hit
puberty, and the petite scrawny girl had blossomed into a very attractive teenager. I had
seen enough leering looks from her peers to fear moving too far away. Jamie needed
someone to protect her, and I was the only one there was. So I turned down Penn, and
instead accepted a spot at the University of Rhode Island, which was just down the street
from our neighborhood in Kingston.

Those leering looks were also what drove me to start hitting the gym. The lack of
physical activity over the last several years had turned my once athletic body lanky and
gangly. I decided if I was going to be protecting Jamie from lecherous men, I should
make sure I was capable of doing so. I bulked up pretty easily, and in a couple of years
wound up with an imposing muscular build that made guys think twice before messing
with my ward. Looking imposing wasn’t always enough. More than once I had to
“convince” some high school kids that their attitudes toward Jamie needed to be
readjusted. Luckily, I could be quite persuasive.

Jamie graduated high school top of her class and had her pick of colleges. When I heard
she was picking Stanford, I instantly applied for Stanford Business School, but Jamie was
having none of it. I had graduated Magna Cum Laude from URI, which was good
enough to get me into Wharton. Jamie knew it was my dream school, and would have no
part of me turning my back on my dreams. And so, for the first time in eleven years,
Jamie and I were separated.

It was a blessing and a curse. At first, I was filled with worry for Jamie. I called every
day to check on her, making sure she was okay. She apparently had adjusted quite well
to college life. She had lots of friends, and was getting straight A's. Finally I relented,
and gave more thought to enjoying my last couple years at school. It was a blast. I had
spent so much time over the last eleven years taking care of Jamie; I hardly had a life of
my own. It was refreshing to hang out and be a college kid, to just let go and have fun.

Not only that, but I could finally pursue romantic relationships. I had found over the
years that potential girlfriends were unwilling to accept that they would always be the
second most important woman in my life. After a string of messy breakups, I had
decided to just give up on women all together. Now with Jamie on the left coast I was
able to give other women more of my attention. Unfortunately, years of not dating had
left me woefully unprepared for how to treat a woman once I got her. Consequently, my
romantic relationships didn’t wind up being much better than they were before.
Between both of us being at school, my internship, and a plethora of extra curricular
activities that Jamie had found for herself, I had actually not seen her for two whole
years. She had been such a big part of my life, and I missed her tremendously. Now,
looking at her standing in the doorway, I could hardly recall ever being so happy.

[spoonmaster]

Bare with me people.  We’ll be getting to the good stuff eventually.  This section is extra long, as it’s all one conversation, and I couldn’t find a place that it would make sense to split it.  So now it’s time to introduce our heroine, and the main plot.



Sunday (part 3)


She seemed pretty happy too. She leaped down the three steps with a single stride and an
exultant look on her face. She plowed into me so hard it nearly knocked me off my feet,
before enveloping me in one of her warm, tight hugs. She had always been an amazing
hugger. She latched onto me tightly, unwilling to let go.

I happily returned the embrace. Neither of us spoke for a long time, each of us caught up
in the moment. My voice still broke up a little when I finally said, "Jamie, I missed you
so much."

She hugged me even harder, so hard it actually hurt a little. "I missed you too, Paul. I'm
so happy to see you."

We held the embrace forever, neither of us wanting to let go. Finally, I pushed away, or
at least tried to. She held me so tightly I actually couldn't pry myself loose from her
grasp. "Easy there. I'm not going anywhere, at least for the next week."

She looked up at me, a strange, dreamy look in her eyes. That was weird. I hope she
wasn’t doing drugs… not that I'd think she’d do drugs in a million years. She was
probably just tired. She gave me another quick squeeze before finally letting go and
taking a step back. "I'm just so happy to see you! It feels like it's been an eternity!”

"It sure has. And wow, have the years been good to you. You look amazing!" Jamie
blushed at the compliment, but it was the God’s honest truth. She had filled out even
more since I last saw her, looking every bit a woman grown, and buffed up quite a bit as
well. She had always been fit, but now she actually had visible muscle on her limbs. She
was built like an Olympic gymnast, though a lot more top heavy than you’d expect
someone who was otherwise so lean to be.

I reached out and squeezed her arm gently. “Damn girl, you’ve been hitting the gym!”
She blushed at the compliment. “It’s nothing compared to you.” She replied, squeezing
my own muscular arm, the dreamy look still on her face.

“Hey don’t sell yourself short. You’re such an amazing athlete; I bet you’ll be giving me
a run for my money at the gym in no time.” I offered in my most reassuring, big brother
voice. She gave me an odd smile at the comment.

I finally noticed what she was wearing. She wore a slinky black cocktail dress that clung
to the curves of her hourglass body. It showed a bit more cleavage than I would have
thought proper, but she was 20 and I had no right to tell her how to dress anymore. Her
hair and face were all done up, enhancing her natural beauty. She certainly was dressed
to impress tonight. I felt a certain amount of pride in the job I did raising her. "Look, I
could stay up all night and catch up with you, but you look like you're set to spend the
evening with someone special. So let me get my stuff out of the way, and I’ll make
myself scarce before your date gets here."

She bit her lip, and almost looked disappointed. "No, um, I actually don’t have a date. I
was just lounging around, waiting for you to get here."

I took another look at her "lounging" outfit. She really had turned into a gorgeous
woman, and that dress was certainly selected to highlight her every curve. I had to admit,
she was going to make someone a very lucky man one day. "If that's your lounging
outfit, I can't wait to see what you wear to get all dolled up."

I made my way over to the kitchen to get a beer. I was expecting to see a mess of food
littering the counter, but it was empty except for a bottle of wine, chilling in a bucket of
ice, with two white wine glasses sitting next to it. I looked around the place again, taking
in the scene. It sure did look like someone was trying to get lucky tonight. Maybe that's
why no one was around. "So where is everyone? It’s kind of rude that they left you here
all alone to wait for me."

Jamie was giving me a strange look again. "No that’s all right; I wanted to be here alone
when you showed up." She was expecting something from me, I could tell, though I had
no idea what.

Then it dawned on me… she was just being polite! I had just gotten in after a long trip,
and she didn’t want to rush me out the door. She really was sweet. "Well, I’m glad you
were. It was really nice to see you. Now let me throw my luggage in a room, and I’ll go
out and meet everyone else wherever they are." I'm not sure, but I thought I heard her
sigh.

"Paul, why don't you come over here and sit down." If the tone of her voice didn't worry
me, the look on her face did. She was sweating, and clearly nervous about something. I
felt a lump in my throat. This was something bad.

"Paul," she began, clearly unsure how to continue. "Will, Mikey and the other guys aren't
coming."

My jaw must have dropped. I was stunned! "What happened? I just talked to Will this
morning and he seemed fine to me." I reached for my phone, ready to call to make sure
my friends were okay. "Is it just Will and Mike, or did something happen to all of
them?"

Jamie grabbed my hand, stopping me from dialing, and made me look up. "No, Paul.
Everyone is just fine. It's just... they were never coming. It was always going to be just
the two of us."

I'm certain my confusion was showing plainly on my face. I was completely at a loss.
"I... I don't understand."

"Here's the thing: Will and the guys were helping me to get you out here, because I didn't
think you'd come if you thought it would just be the two of us." Her eyes were searching,
expecting something. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what.

I was still filled with a foreboding feeling, though. Jamie was acting weird, and my
"parent" senses were going off. It had to be something big if she went to all this trouble
to get us alone. My mind was going through a list of all the things that could possibly be
wrong. "Why wouldn't I want to spend time with just you? We've spent tons of time
together just the two of us.” I grabbed her hands and scooted closer to her, then put on
my most reassuring face. “Hey, Jame, listen, this is me. Why don’t you just tell me
what's going on."

She was getting really nervous. I could see her sweating. Her body trembled. She was
trying to find the words, but her mouth didn't seem to be working. I gave her hands a
gentle, reassuring squeeze. That dreamy look was back -- maybe she was sick. "Hey, it’s
okay, you can tell me anything. I don't know what's wrong, but I’m here now. Whatever
it is, I'm going to do whatever it takes to help you. You don't have to be afraid anymore.
I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Jamie let out a big sigh and leaned her head against my chest. I reached behind her and
gently stroked her back, waiting until she was ready to talk. She finally pulled back and
looked me straight in the eye. She took a deep breath. "Oh Paul, you are the sweetest,
most gentle guy I ever met. You're funny and insightful, charming and honest, and wise
beyond your years. And you are without a doubt the most oblivious person I have ever
met."

There was something I was supposed to be getting here, but I couldn’t for the life of me
figure out what. "I'm sorry, what are you talking about."

"Paul, I love you." She said with an exasperated sigh.

"I know, Jamie. I love you too."

"No, you idiot. I love you! I see your face every time I close my eyes. Everytime I
breath deeply I catch a hint of your scent. Every song I hear on the radio reminds me of
you, and every day we're apart, a piece of me dies. My whole life, you've been the
standard against which I've measured every guy I've ever dated, and they've all come up
woefully short, because they're not you. They can never have my heart, because it's
yours. It's always been yours. I love you, with every piece of my heart." Tears were
streaming unabated down her face.

My whole body dulled as I started to realize what was going on here. "Oh," I mumbled,
jumping up from the couch. My mind was racing. No one else was coming, just the two
of us in this romantic vila on a private beach on Oahu. The soft music, the muted light,
the wine with two glasses, the fire in the fireplace. "Oh." Suddenly it was all so
obvious. She had tricked me into coming to Hawaii for a whole week, so she could
seduce me! “Oh!”

Jamie was watching me pace up and down the room. I was pacing! I stopped moving,
and crossed my hands over my chest; no, I put them on my hips; no, I held them behind
my back; no, I ran them through my hair. Oh god, I was acting like a freak! I had to say
something, anything. "Uhhhh...wow, I…uh…don't know…um…what to...wow."
Oh god, this was the most uncomfortable moment of my life.

Jamie was clearly ready for this kind of reaction. She sat there patiently on the couch,
her hands folded on her lap. Her eyes followed my every move. "Look, Paul, it's okay
to…"

"No, I'm sorry. It's just... I mean... you just caught me a bit off guard was all. I mean, I
had no idea you...." I stopped, and took a deep breath. I had to try to process what was
happening. "Um... for how long have you... you know..."

She was staring up at me with that dreamy look again, and I finally knew what that look
was: a look of pure love. "For as long as I can remember." Her voice was calm and
steady, and a bit cautious. "Honestly I've had a crush on you almost since we met. You
were always so kind to me. And you were always there, whenever I needed anything,
like my own angel." She smiled at the memory. "But I first realized that I loved you
after my first date with a boy: Daren Saunders. He was so handsome, and polite, and
funny. He was very nice, and we had a great time, but there was something wrong.
Something I couldn't place for a long time. We dated for weeks, and had a lot of fun, but
every time we were together, I always felt that something was off. For the longest time, I
couldn't figure out what, and then it suddenly dawned on me. The problem with Daren, is
that he wasn't you.”

She got up slowly and took a step toward me. Her eyes lost to memory, voice thick with
emotion. "When I was in the seventh grade, I got so upset on my birthday because my
mom got called into work at the last minute -- again -- and my dad sent me this stupid
note. I thought it was going to be the worst birthday ever. But then you were there, like
you always were. You gave me my first iPod, cooked me lasagna and bought me an ice
cream cake. It wound up being my best birthday ever. A few weeks later, Sarah
Chambers told me that you canceled your plans for Junior Prom with Laura Nilan at the
last minute because you didn't want me to be alone on my birthday.”

She kept walking slowly toward me. Her eyes held mine with an intensity that was very
familiar to me. It was the way she looked when she saw something she’d stop at nothing
to get. "That was the first time I realized how much you gave up to take care of me.
Your whole childhood, I mean, you never got to be a kid, because you were always
taking care of me. No one else has ever given up so much for me. I can't imagine that
anyone ever will. But you never complained, never got angry. You always seemed so
happy to see me, so eager to take care of me, so determined to make sure that I had a family."
I didn't realize I had been backing up until I felt my back bump into the wall. Jamie had
followed me across the room, and finally had me cornered. I practically jumped when
she touched me. I realized for the first time how fast my heart was beating. "Jamie, I... I
don't know what to say. I mean, I'm flattered, and a little bit surprised, I mean... you
never gave me any indication you felt this way."

She giggled softly, patting my chest. "Oh Paul, like I said: completely oblivious. When
you were a senior in high school and I was in the eighth grade, I used to flirt with you
constantly. I really didn't know what I was doing, but Mary Connors up the street
showed me how to do it right. I practiced on other boys at school, just to make sure I was
doing it right. I had them all eating out of the palm of my hand, yet you never reacted in
the least. Did you never notice that the only time I wore shirts that showed off any
cleavage was when I was going to be alone with you?"

The mention of her cleavage brought my gaze down to her chest. The front was cut low,
showing several inches of the sloping crevice between her tits. I never really noticed how
big her breasts were, how soft and inviting her cleavage looked. I looked away instantly,
disgusted with myself. This was no way to act. God, she must think I'm a lecher.
"You don't have to look away, Paul. I wore this dress just for you." Her voice was
getting huskier, a mere whisper. "I know you like girls with big breasts, most guys do. I
always wore my best cleavage shirts for you, hoping that you'd find me attractive. Guys
at school can't take their eyes off of them, even though I wear mostly baggy clothing."
She leaned forward, mashing her tits into me. I could feel the warmth of her body
through my shirt, the softness of her chest as she pressed her flesh against mine. "You
can touch them if you'd like. You can feel how big they are, how firm they are, how soft
my skin is." She started gently rubbing her breasts softly around my chest. My heart was
beating wilding in my chest. Was I was starting to get aroused? This couldn't be
happening!

"No, no, no, no!" I tried to slide away from her, but her breasts were somehow pinning
me to the wall! I must have been been weak from the shock of what was happening.
It took a moment before she realized I was trying to get away. For a second, I wasn't sure
she didn't intend to hold me against that wall forever, but finally, with a sigh, she took a
step back, and I was able to slip away. "Jamie, we can't do this. It's wrong."

"Why is it wrong?" Her voice was soft, understanding, patient; like a parent teaching a
child.

"Because, I knew you when you were just a kid. I raised you, you're like my own..."

"NO!" The softness and patience was gone. For a second, she seemed almost angry.
"I'm not your daughter, or your sister, or your cousin, or anything else. I'm your
neighbor. And it is perfectly fine for neighbors to be intimate with each other. We're not
doing anything wrong."

"Maybe not, but it feels like it, to me." My mind was racing, I had to find some way to
get control of this situation. "Look, Jamie, I'm flattered, I really am, but I just don't think
of you that way. I've never thought of you that way. And I'd hate to think something
could mess up the relationship that we have." For the fist time, I realized I was actually
scared. I treasured my relationship with Jamie. Over the years of spending so much time
together, I had gotten to know her far better than I knew anyone else, even my own
family. And she knew me better than anyone else I knew. Now, at this moment, more
than anything, I was afraid of losing that connection.

"I don't want to mess up what we have either -- I want to make it better. Look, for as
long as I can remember, you've been there for me, taken care of me, watched over me,
and I love you for it. Now it’s my turn to take care of you. It’s my turn to be your
angel.”

"I don't know, Jamie. I honestly don't know if I could ever look at you the way you want
me to." I found it quite upsetting. I'd spent most of my life trying to give Jamie whatever
she wanted. Now I couldn't find it in me to give her this most basic of human emotions.
For the fist time, I started to feel as though I was letting her down. That was I feeling I
did not like in the least.

"I know. That's one of the reasons that it took me so long to say something to you. I
knew how you thought of me, and that's fine. It's sweet. I knew it would be almost
impossible for you to look at me as anything more than a little sister. It was clearly the
biggest hurdle to us ever being a couple."

"I'm sorry, I wish it wasn't that way. You're such an amazing... wait a minute!" My mind
was racing, I wasn't always oblivious, well, not completely. "You haven’t told me
before, but you’re telling me now. What changed?"

She smirked up at me.

"What? What's different now that you would bring it up? After so many years, why
would you suddenly tell me now?"

Her smirk melted into a look of seduction. "Because I know you better than anyone else.
I know your favorite movie, and your favorite thing to eat while watching it. I know
what qualities you like in your friends and which qualities you find irritating. I know
where your favorite places to go are, and what things make you most happy in this
world. But most importantly of all, I know what turns you on."

My jaw nearly dropped. Over the years, Jamie and I had many conversations on many
different subjects. We certainly talked about realatinships and I know we shared some
intimate things over the years. But there were some things that I found attractive in
women that weren’t exactly…normal. Things that I had tried to keep secret for as long as
I could remember. I certainly don’t remember sharing those things with her, but now I
was starting to wonder, did I?

Jamie seemed pleased at my apprehension. "The reason it took me so long to tell you
how I felt about you, is that I knew that it would be impossible for me to talk you into
dating me. But I also knew that if I became your fantasy woman, then you wouldn't be
able to resist me. And so, for the last six years, I've been transforming myself into the
woman of your dreams. And now, for the next week, I'm going to seduce you, because
I've become everything you've ever desired in a woman. And I assure you, by the time
this week is over, you'll want me as much as I want you."

I was so stunned I plopped down onto the closest chair, trying to wrap my mind around
what she was saying. Six years! Becoming my fantasy woman! It's like something you'd
read in fiction, more like the screenplay of a porno. I pinched the skin on my arm, certain
this was some kind of dream.

"It's not a dream, Paul." She had opened the bottle of wine and put a glass in my hand.
"Look, I realize this is a lot to assimilate, and I know I sprung a lot on you. But we don't
have to do it all tonight. We have all week. Let’s take it slowly and see where things
lead us."

My mind was racing so quickly I could hardly grab onto a thought. I just sat there, trying
to come to grips with what was happening, well aware that her eyes were constantly on
me. I just didn't know what to say, or how to react. There was really only one thought I
was able to latch onto: this was impossible!

"What if I can't? What if, after whatever you've done, I still can't love you the way you
love me?"

She shrugged. "Well, we have a week, so lets make a deal. If you don't fall madly in
love with me by the end of the week, then we'll forget the whole thing ever happened and
go back to the way things were." She walked over to me and plopped down on my lap.

She held my gaze with the most intense stare I'd ever seen. "But I wouldn't worry about
that, Paul. I know you, and I know you won't be able to resist me. It won't even take a
week. Three days, and I'll be all you can think about." She leaned over, and let her lips
gently brush against my cheek, ending in a soft, gentle kiss. "But for now, you need
some time alone with your thoughts. I'm going to go to my room for the night. Yours is
out the door you came in, first building on the right." She stood up and walked out of my
sight. I couldn’t bring myself to stand, or even turn to watch her go. My mind was
somewhere else, off in its own little world.

I heard her receding footsteps, and then the sound of a door opening. Her soft voice
drifted down to me. "Make sure you get a good night’s sleep. We have a long week
ahead of us." And then the door closed.

A long week? That was an understatement. My eyes found the fire, and I watched the
flames dance through the night sky without really seeing them. I watched it slowly burn
down to embers, and then watched the embers fade away until the fireplace was cold and
dark. And still I stared, hoping that somewhere in the ash I would find the answers that
would somehow make this day make sense.

[sgsg69]

Wow, what a great story and intro......and the fact she's been planning this for so long!! Can't wait to see how you describe that transformation of hers............wonderful writing style, Karma to you, K+++++

[spoonmaster]

Paul’s odd vacation continues with day 2.




MONDAY (part 1)


I woke up in a plush, king-sized bed with a thick pillow-top mattress and silky
smooth sheets. I didn’t recognize anything, and for a moment, I wasn’t even sure
where I was. At least not until I sat up and noticed that the room had an open
wall, displaying a commanding view of the Pacific Ocean. Suddenly, sounds of
the surf brought the events of last night crashing back.

I took a moment to look around. The room was decorated much like the rest of
the house, with solid comfortable furniture and sparse yet elegant decorations.
There was an end table on either side of the bed, and a comfortable sitting area
with a pair of thick, high backed chairs flanking a small table. A large, mahogany
bureau rested against one wall, and a chest, shaped to look like a piece of
driftwood sat at the foot of the bed. Everything was well made and looked brand-
new. A wood paneled ceiling fan hummed quietly, keeping the room
comfortable.

I got to my feet to look around. I didn’t remember walking to the room, I didn’t
even remember falling asleep, but I found my things were all here and placed
neatly in the closet and dresser, with my luggage stowed away. I must have been
pretty lucid to accomplish all of that.

I was still a little sleepy, but a quick glance at a clock told me that it was already
getting into late morning, so I didn’t bother trying to go back to sleep. What I
needed was a cup of coffee, but I wasn’t quite ready to find my way to the kitchen
just yet.

My iPad was sitting on an end table next to the bed, so I fired it up and was
pleased to find the place had wifi installed. I launched my web browser and
checked out how the market was doing. Not only was it late in the morning, but I
was six hours behind East Coast time, meaning the markets had been open for
quite some time. It was my vacation, and I didn’t actually have a job, but it was a
good practice to keep up to date.

I checked CNN for any important headlines that would have an effect on the
market, and then I checked out how the European markets began the week. I had
been surfing for almost half an hour before I realized what I was really doing:
stalling.

Despite her protests to the contrary, Jamie was more of a daughter to me than
anything else. It was insane, since she was only 4 years younger, but the nature of
our relationship led us to those roles no matter what she wanted to believe.

We’ve been that way for so long, I simply couldn't see how I could ever look at
her romantically.

Of course I was hardly the world’s foremost authority on romance. I’ve never
had a girlfriend for more than a couple months. I simply didn’t have the
experience to know how to properly treat a girl. That, plus the fact that years of
being alone had left me with unrealistic expectations of what to hope for in a
woman.

Of course I could never tell Jamie why I had no luck with women. She would be
crushed if she knew she was the reason I was mostly alone. Not that we never
talked about relationships. I often asked her about her boyfriends, inquiring what
she was looking for in a guy, and she in turn inquired into my tastes. I kept my
list of what I found attractive in the fairer sex to things that I felt she could
identify with; like intelligence, kindness, honesty and confidence. You’d think
my ideal girl friend would be a boy scout.

I couldn’t remember ever talking to her about my real fantasies. I was actually
embarrassed by the things that really turned me on in a woman, and would have
felt like a dirty old man sharing them with Jamie. Of course if she really knew
my deepest fantasy, being with a woman who possessed incredible strength, she
would realize that she could never be my fantasy woman; it simply wasn’t
possible. It left me a little curious as to what she thought my fantasy woman was
and how exactly she thought she embodied that woman. No doubt she spent the
last few years memorizing the Kama Sutra and mastering the art of the blowjob.
The mere image of Jamie sucking my dick sent shivers up and down my spine.
This whole thing was crazy. It was going to be the longest week of my life.

The smell of bacon woke me from my reverie. My stomach rumbled, reminding
me that I hadn’t eaten anything since a late lunch on the plane. Still, I dreaded
going out there. How the hell am I supposed to act? Does it matter? I'm stuck
here for the week, and I certainly can’t spend the whole time hiding in my
bedroom. Besides, she clearly put a lot of time and effort into planning this week.
It wouldn’t be right to spend the week ignoring her.

Determined to make the best of an awkward situation, I changed out of the clothes
I'd been wearing since yesterday and followed my nose.

Daylight gave me a better view of the place we had. I walked out of one of two
doors of the northern most of three buildings. The building to my left, closest to
the ocean, was the largest of the three and housed the kitchen, living room, dining
room and god only knows what else. There was another building on the far side
of the main building of similar size and design of the one I just left.

The courtyard was covered with a meticulously manicured lawn and beautifully
landscaped gardens filled with brightly colored, tropical flowers and lush green
ground cover. A winding stone path connected the three buildings with a garage
at the foot of the driveway. Palm trees were planted strategically throughout the
property, providing shade from the midday sun. The buildings were made mostly
of white stone and wood with a lot of wall-less rooms. The architecture had a
subtle Asian influence.

Jamie was in the kitchen tending to a few eggs on the griddle as toast popped out
of the toaster. A plate of thick, bacon sat next to the stove, whose aroma
competed against that of freshly-brewed coffee finishing up in the coffee maker.
My eyes fell on Jamie as she moved gracefully around the kitchen like she knew
exactly where everything was. There was certainly no denying her beauty. She
was very pretty…hell, who was I kidding, she was a knock out. If she were any
other woman, I’d probably be salivating over her. But she wasn’t any other
woman, she was Jamie, and I felt incapable of looking at her that way.

Surprisingly enough, considering her declared motives, she was wearing a rather
conservative outfit. The brightly colored outfit she chose set off nicely against
her deeply tanned skin, yet it was hardly the form fitting ensemble I expected her
to be in. She had on a loose fitting pair of gleaming white Capri’s, leaving only
the very bottoms of her toned calves bare. Her bright purple tee shirt hung
loosely around her body, except for across her chest. The fabric there was
stretched tightly across her ample bosom.

Another shiver went up my spine as I realized I was checking out her breasts.
Jamie was not the kind of girl I ogled. I had comforted her after her first period
and helped her clean up the mess! I showed her how to use a damn tampon for
crying out loud! How the hell was I supposed to look at her like she was any
other woman?

Her head whipped around at my sigh as she was taking the eggs off the griddle.
Her bright green eyes sparkled as she saw me. She flashed me a grin, showing off
a perfect set of gleaming white teeth. The warm smile was almost enough to
settle my unease. She really was stunning.

"Hey Paul. I made your favorite breakfast. Eggs over easy with some nice, chewy
bacon. There are home fries in that pot on the stove and some Verona in the coffee pot.
Just let me butter this bread and we can eat."

The table was already set with water and a small glass of orange juice at my seat. I
wondered at the near perfect timing of our meal, but chalked it up to coincidence. It had
to be didn’t it? I plopped down in a chair and took a sip of juice to fill the uncomfortable
silence. I couldn’t bring myself to meet her stare. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so
uncomfortable in my entire life!

I mumbled a word of thanks as she set a piping hot plate of food down in front of me, but
couldn’t bring myself to touch any of it. Jamie retrieved her own plate and sat down
across from me. She placed her hands gently on her lap and regarded me with a pleasant,
patient look, saying not a word. For a long time, the sound of the ocean was the only
noise in the room.

Finally I forced myself to meet her gaze. I wish I could conjure half the confidence she
was exuding. “So, how is this going to work?” I asked. “Are you going to throw me on
the couch and have sex with me until I fall madly in love with you?” I couldn’t believe I
just said that! I tried to shove the words back into my mouth the second they were out of
my lips, but it was too late.

I thought she’d be pissed off, or at least snap at me. Instead she said. “Is that what you
want to do?” She didn’t sound seductive or flirty, merely inquisitive.

I said “No!” so fast that Jamie jumped. My face colored in embarrassment. I was
treating her like she was a leper.

She took the whole thing in stride. “Look Paul, I’m not going to force you to do anything
you’re uncomfortable with. If you want to make out on the couch, I’d be more than
happy to do that. Believe me, I can make you feel things you never dreamed you could
feel.”

I shivered as a chill ran up my spine. That last line was delivered with more than a hint
of seduction.

“But I don’t want to do that unless it’s what you want to do.” The seductive tone was
gone so suddenly I wasn’t sure I didn’t imagine it. She got up and moved around the
table to sit right next to me. She gently placed her hands on mine and adopted a
completely non-threatening posture. “Look, I want to make this 100% clear: my object
here isn’t to force myself on you, or force you into anything. My only goal, is to get you
to be as attracted to me as I am to you.

“Now, I’m certainly going to try to seduce you, and at times you might find that I’ll be a
little more forward than what you might be used to. But if at anytime, you’re not
comfortable with the way things are going, just tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

It was all a lot to take in. I mean, no one has ever said anything even remotely like that to
me before. It was like the opening scene to a porno. “Okay then. The question stands.
What do we do now?”

“We have a good time. Look if this week turns into nothing else, it’s still a week on a
tropical island that neither of us have ever been to. I want to have some fun, I want to
catch up, I want to sightsee, I want to relax, and I want to eat good food. If our
relationship is going to turn into something more than just friends, that would be
wonderful; but I want it to happen organically, not forced.

“So let’s just start by eating our breakfast before the food gets cold. Then we can just
take things as they go. How does that sound?”

I gave her a nod of approval, though I thought it sounded weird; but she certainly had a
good point. Just have fun, and if something else happened, it would happen. I couldn’t
imagine it would, but who knew. A sudden thought came to me. I nodded toward the
meal, my favorite meal. “So, the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,
huh?”

“I’ve already got your heart. I was a little more interested with what’s in your pants. If I
can get that through food, I’m certainly ready to spend the week in the kitchen.”

I spit out the forkful of potatoes I just shoved in my mouth. Jamie giggled at me.
The rest of breakfast was quite delightful. Jamie had cooked the meal to perfection. The
eggs yolks were just runny enough, the bacon perfectly chewy and the potatoes
wonderfully spiced. The coffee was nice and strong, no cream and just a hint of sugar.
Even the bread was toasted just the right amount. I didn’t remember her being such a
good cook. Clearly she’d spent a lot of time practicing. The meal was delicious.

We spent the meal catching up. Jamie started us off with what she'd been up to over the
past couple of years. I jumped in, recounting my own tales of grad school. I had
forgotten that we hadn't seen each other over the past two years; there were lots of stories
to be told, by both of us. So, over mouthfuls of delicious breakfast, the uneasiness of the
past twelve hours melted away and we fell back into our comfortable rolls close friends.

It was refreshing. It reminded me of how much I really enjoyed her company. My
friends had always wondered how I didn't get annoyed spending so much time with a
younger kid that I couldn't have had much in common with. Truth was, Jamie was an
amazing kid with an infectious sense of wonder and excitement at the world around her.
Too many people I knew were quick to be cynical about damn near everything. But
Jamie was an optimist. More than that, she took great joy in experiencing all the various
wonders of life. It made me really enjoy spending time with her.

Being the dutiful guardian, I asked after her studies, finding myself amazed at her
intellect. I had always thought I was a pretty smart guy, but Jamie blew me away in the
smarts department. She launched into an excited recitation of molecular genetics and
some dormant, hypo-something hormone, though she used so many three-letter
abbreviations and eight syllable words that I was lost almost instantly. Still, I couldn’t
help but to feel a touch of pride at how remarkable she’d turned out. Though I imagined
I didn’t have as much to do with it as I would have hoped.

We talked well past the end of breakfast, until Jamie got up and began to clear the dishes.
I got up to help but was quickly rebuffed. She insisted in doing all the dishes herself.
When I mentioned that I should clean because she cooked, she told me that I needed to
shower or we’d be late. So I went back to my room, showered and changed into a pair of
khaki shorts and a comfortable tee shirt. By the time I was all ready, the kitchen was
spotless. Jamie was lounging on one of the living room chairs, waiting patiently for me.
She bounded up when I came through the door, grabbed my hand, and practically pulled
me to the garage.

[spoonmaster]

Here’s more.  It’s kind of short, but the next post will be longer.




Monday (part 2)


Much to my delight, Jamie handed me the keys to the Jeep Wrangler, letting me drive
while she navigated. I don’t know what it was about getting behind the wheel of the
open-air vehicle, but I felt like a big old bad ass. The jeep seemed appropriate in a place
like this. I wondered if there was anywhere around here where we could take it off-
roading. I found myself grinning ear to ear as I pulled the jeep out of the driveway. I
must have looked like an idiot, but I didn’t care. It was something I could check off the
old bucket list.

Now, I went to school to learn how to play the stock market, but it wasn’t really
something I was passionate about, just something I thought I could do well and make a
lot of money at. My real passion was American history. Unfortunately, there were no
high paying jobs available to history majors, so I stuck with business, though I did minor
in History at URI.

So naturally, the first thing on our to do list was Pearl Harbor, the site of the most
devastating attack on US soil by a foreign power. I thought World War II was incredibly
fascinating. Most of the nonfiction books I owned were on the subject, including one on
the attack at Pearl Harbor, the battle that brought America into the war.

We got there just in time for the last Battleships of WWII tour. It was a six-hour, guided
tour of the USS Arizona Memorial, the Battleship Missouri, the Punchbowl National
Cemetery, and Historic Honolulu. I balked at the price, $75 per person, but Jamie pulled
out her credit card without a second thought.

Then it suddenly occurred to me: none of my eight friends, who I thought were going to
be here, came to Hawaii! None of the eight people that I was assuming were splitting the
cost of my trip were here! I suddenly realized that Jamie must be footing the bill for all
of this herself! Jamie had to have paid for the limo that came to pick me up, my first-
class flight from one side of the country to the other and the amazing villa that we were
staying in; which had to have cost more for one night than the dive I thought we were
going to stay in would cost for the entire week.

Suddenly I was feeling very ashamed. Jamie's family was far from rich, and in all the
stories Jamie had of college, she never once mentioned working. Now here she was,
destroying her credit just to impress me. We still had a couple minutes until the tour
started, so I pulled Jamie off to the side.

"Look Jame, I'm just starting to realize how much money you must have already shelled
out for this trip. I can’t let you ruin yourself financially because you think it could buy
my love."

She smiled up at me and gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it.
I have plenty of money; more than enough to cover whatever we want to do for the whole
week. So don’t you worry about a thing. This week’s on me."

I was a little surprised at the blasé attitude she had toward the fortune she must have been
spending. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how she could possibly be affording any
of it. "It’s just…I don't remember you having a lot of money. And if you charge
everything, you’re going to destroy your credit. I just spent the past six years learning all
about finances and fiscal responsibility, and you don’t want to have to deal with bad
credit. It affects everything you want to…"

I trailed off as a troubling thought occurred to me. There were certain ways a beautiful
young woman could make a lot of money in a short time. "Hey, you didn't do
anything...uh...illegal to make your money, did you?"

Jamie tsked me. "Don't be silly. If you really must know, I won a prize a couple years
ago. I took my winnings and invested them in the market. I wound up making quite a bit
of money off my investments."

That piqued my interest. Now she was talking about something that was right in my
wheelhouse. "You should have called me. That's what I'm going into. I could have
helped you."

"Well if I asked for your help, you might have wondered what I was up to and it could
have ruined the surprise. Besides, I did pretty well on my own, if I do say so myself."
I was a little skeptical. The market could be vicious if you didn't know what you were
doing. I’d been learning all about the various idiosyncrasies of the stock market for
several years now and still felt like a babe in the woods. "How well? What was your
yield, if you don't mind me asking."

"Why would I mind you asking?" She gave me a sheepish grin. "Well, I’d never really
played the market before, so I tried to stay pretty conservative at first. I wound up
gaining one hundred.”

I was a little bit puzzled. $100 wasn’t much of a yield; unless it was on a prize so small it
wouldn’t have even covered the limo ride to the airport. But she seemed pretty proud of
herself, so I tried to sound encouraging. "$100, huh, not bad."

Her grin deepened. "No silly, not $100. I earned a 100% return on the money I
invested."

I did a double take. "I'm sorry, what?"

She took a step toward me. "I said I earned 100%."

My jaw dropped a bit. That was impossible! "No, you're saying it wrong. That would
mean you doubled your investment over the last two years. That's just not possible."

Jamie giggled. “Don’t be silly. I earned 100% the first year. After that I got a hang of it
and got a little more aggressive with my investments.”

I think my eyes popped out of my skull. 15% was considered a very good return on your
investment for an entire year, and most people barely earn half that; especially in the
economic climate we were in. A 100% yield was incredible. “Uh, what do you mean,
more aggressive?”

Jamie was smiling ear to ear. “Well, last year, I was really aggressive. I’d have to check,
but I’m pretty sure I grew my portfolio by somewhere around 250%.” Her smile turned
seductive and she ran one of her hands gently across my chest. “Why, is that good?"
I was so stunned I could hardly speak! "Good! Are you kidding me? That's amazing!
It's more than amazing, it's impossible!"

She continued stroking my chest, while twirling a finger from her other hand through her
hair. "Hmmm, does that impress you? Do you like a girl who can handle her money?"
I was stunned to realize that my heart was beating faster. Was I actually a little turned
on? God, it made me feel dirty! I tried to casually pull back away from her while
shaking my body, trying to get control of myself. I must have looked like an idiot.
"Anyhow," she went on with a knowing smirk on her face, "I made more than enough in
my investments to cover this weeks expenses and then some, so don't worry about
money. I got it all covered."

It was all a little hard to believe, but I didn’t think for a second that she was lying to me.
We might have both hidden things from each other from time to time, I certainly have,
but we were always honest with each other. It was one of the major tenants of our
relationship. If she said she could cover it, she could cover it.

However, the thought of having Jamie pay for everything was weird on a couple levels.
The first was that I was kind of old fashioned and was used to paying for all my dates. I
shook my head at the thought. “This isn’t a date!” I told myself. “Just two friends
enjoying a vacation together.”

The other level that it bothered me on was one I had to voice out loud. "Well, okay, if
you say so, but you really aren’t trying to buy my love, are you?"

She gave me another sultry look. She was really enjoying herself. "Is it for sale?"

Wait a second; did I just flirt with her? No, it was an honest question. My heart was
pounding in my chest, and it was not from arousal. This was Jamie! She was my friend,
nothing more. I had to get a hold of myself before I did something I would regret.
As if she could sense my unease, she dropped the subject completely. “Uh oh, we’re
running out of time, let’s go.” She led me back to the check in desk and paid for our
tickets while offering a surprisingly astute observation about the attack. “Did you know
that the Japanese specifically chose to attack on a Sunday because they believed
Americans would be more relaxed and thus less alert on a weekend.” And just like that,
we were back to being just a couple of friends hanging out. The change was so sudden, I
almost felt like I just imagined the flirting.

The tour was amazing. Our guide was knowledgeable and personable. The tour was
designed to make you feel as though you were transported back to 1941, with facts from
the attack presented in a way as if they had just happened. They covered the events
leading up to the battle, all the way to the Japanese surrender on the deck of the Missouri.
Jamie also seemed well versed in the events surrounding the attack. She impressed our
tour guide more than once with her knowledge of the events. She even went so far as to
correct him once. The guide was surprised to find that she was right and he was wrong. I
was impressed. I knew she was smart, but I didn’t realize she was interested in history.
Did she do that just to please me?

By the time the tour was over we were both starved. Jamie directed me to a restaurant
called Alan Wong’s, which was on our way home. It was a pretty fancy restaurant, and I
thought we’d be a little underdressed for the place, but Hawaii wasn’t the kind of place
that people dressed up just to go eat. There were several patron’s dressed just like us.
Alan Wong’s specialized in authentic Hawaiian cuisine, which was cooked to perfection.
Jamie spared no expense. She ordered a nice bottle of Shiraz and several appetizers.
Seafood Cakes were followed by Kona Lobster Dumplings, which both left my mouth
watering and went perfectly with the wine. I had something called Whole Tomato Salad,
which was okay, but not great. The entrée made up for it. I got Pan-Steamed
Opakapaka, which was short-tailed pink snapper served with shrimp-pork hash, truffle
nage, gingered vegetables and tapioca pearls. I had never had Hawaiian food before, but
after that entrée, I was becoming quite a fan.

A bottle of port came after, and we shared a desert called Five Spoons of Brulee, which
included exotic flavors like lilikoi, yuzo, coffee, chocolate and macadamia nut. We sat
there after the food was done, letting our stomachs settle while sipping port and sharing
our experiences from the Pearl Harbor tour. It was a wonderful evening.

[wanderersoul]

Always been a fan of your work, so it's good to see more of it

[spoonmaster]

Things are finally starting to heat up!




Monday (part 3)


We were both a little tipsy after dinner. Jamie insisted that we call for a cab, no matter
how much I assured her I was fine. Back at the villa, Jamie went back to her bedroom to
“slip into something a little more comfortable”.

I gulped nervously; worried that she was finally going to try to make a move on me. I
wondered what my reaction would be. I slipped into a pair of gym shorts and a tank top.
It was kind of bumy, hardly the kind of outfit I’d wear to attract a girl, besides the fact
that it showed off my muscular arms.

I shuffled nervously to the main villa, my heart pounding in my chest. As I sat waiting
for Jamie to appear, I was trying to go over whatever excuse I could think of that would
get me out of any kind of awkward physical contact that I might have been about to be
subject to.

I breathed a sigh of relief when Jamie walked through the door. She was wearing a pair
of loose fitting shorts that showed a lot more leg than her Capri’s, but weren’t really all
that short. Her short-sleeve shirt was also loosely fit, except around the bosom. Sure she
looked amazing, but it was hardly the sexy outfit I’d expect from someone trying to
seduce me. She was carrying a DVD in her hand.

She made her way to the kitchen and pulled out a pair of Coronas. Was she going to try
to get me drunk and take advantage of me? I didn’t think so, but didn’t completely
dismiss the possibility.

I took the offered beer, but regarded her suspiciously, especially the unlabeled DVD case
she was carrying. "So, the plan is to get me drunk and show me pornography to get me
going, driving me into your waiting arms?"

She gave me a wry smile, then leaned down into me until her mouth hovered right next to
my ears. "If I wanted to get you going, I wouldn't need pornography."

A chill ran up my spine and my heart skipped a beat. Where'd she learn to talk like that?
With a voice like that, she could make a fortune at phone sex!

Jamie was pleased by my reaction. She walked toward the DVD player, pulling the
movie from its case. "This isn't porn. It's just a little movie I downloaded online that I
thought you might enjoy."

She loaded the movie into the player and then skipped back to me, the seductive look and
husky voice replaced with childish innocence. She took a drink from her beer and then
curled up on the comfy couch beside me, putting her head on my lap. It felt kind of
awkward to me, given the current state of our relationship, but we were both big movie
buffs and had watched countless films over the years in this very position. In fact, having
her cuddle up to me like this brought me back to a time when our relationship was
considerably less complicated. Besides, she looked so comfortable lying there, it would
be a shame to make her move, so I let it go and turned my attention to the film.

The intro certainly seemed like a porno. It was a very low production value, like
someone made it at his home. Some dire, yet cheesy music played as the credits rolled
over a stock image. The Awakening was the name. The title seemed like a not-too-subtle
commentary about our present predicament. I wondered for a moment if Jamie
had made the film. It would have been a shame if I had driven such a bright young
woman to a life of porn. The very thought gave me the chills.

I breathed a muffled sigh of relief when the main character entered the screen and it
wasn't Jamie. It was a pretty, busty, blonde woman named Lara. Lara was entering the
late stages of some terminal illness. Her husband just happened to be a handsome,
brilliant scientist who was working on a cure. "Yeah," I thought, "that's certainly not the
setup for a porno."

The sound wasn't crisp, and it was clear normal actors weren’t portraying the characters,
but the story actually wasn't all that bad and seemed to be bereft of the mind-numbing
dialog I had expected. I silently applauded the makers of the film for doing so much on
what must have been a very modest budget.

It wasn't long at all before Lara was on her deathbed. Of course her brilliant husband had
a potential, yet untested cure. After a heartfelt moment, Lara was injected with the
magical serum. "And becomes a sex crazed bimbo with big boobs and the superhuman
ability to cause orgasms in men," I thought sarcastically.

Lara woke up after a long recovery, seemingly cured from her illness. "Here it comes." I
thought. She was getting a drink of water, when suddenly; she had some kind of strange
episode, almost like a migraine. Lara squeezed her hand around the glass as her body
was wracked with pain. The glass shattered into a million different pieces. Lara looked
at her hand in wonder, her skin was unhurt from the broken glass.

My throat seized as my heart skipped more than a beat. A tingling chill spread
throughout my entire body, leaving the hair on my head feeling like it was standing
straight up. She had crushed the glass with her hands! This wasn't a porno at all!

My body was suddenly trembling. My heart beat furiously. I felt like I’d got caught with
my hand in the cookie jar. How had she found out? It wasn't possible! Nobody knew!
What the hell was I going to do?

Back on the screen, Lara greeted her husband wearing a trench coat. She removed the
trench coat, showing off a stunning body in a provocative workout outfit. She let her
husband look at her for a moment, and then grabbed his hand and led him into a room
with all kinds of gym equipment.

"No, no, no, NO!" My heart was beating so loudly I could feel it in my ears. But that
wasn't the worst of it. I felt my cock lurch as it began to fill up with blood, and Jamie's
head was resting right on top of it! She was just lying there, not moving at all, but there
was no way she wasn't aware of me squirming around beneath her. I tried with all of my
might to get a hold of myself, but my mind and libido were working furiously against
each other.

On the screen, Lara led her husband to a weight bench and had him sit down while she
moved over to a heavy looking barbell. "Nooooooooooooooooo." My mind screamed,
but it was no use. The busty blonde bent down and easily lifted the heavy-looking weight
up over her head with a smile. My cock hardened right into Jamie's ear!

With a muffled grunt, I slid out from beneath her, nearly throwing her to the ground, and
bolted up from the couch. Sweat was pouring down my brow. I twisted and squirmed,
trying to stop my erection from poking out of my loose fitting gym shorts. Out of the
corner of my eye, I could see Lara mangling a weight disc. God, stop watching that!
Jamie was looking at me with a fake, innocent expression. How did she know!

"You okay sweetie?" She could barely keep the conniving grin from her face.

"Um...uh...yeah...I'm good." I squirmed around like a worm, trying to hide my hard on
from her. "I just...uh...I haven't got...um...I gotta pee." I tripped and stumbled away from
the couch, opening up the front closet, the door to outside, and the kitchen pantry, before
finally finding a bathroom. I rushed inside, slamming the door, and then locked it behind
me. I thought I could hear Jamie giggle from the other side.

My heart pounded in my chest. What the hell was I going to do! My cock was stiff as a
board, and I had little doubt the rest of the movie would feature other various feats of
strength. The problem was, I was completely turned on.

Some guys liked legs, other guys liked butts, everyone liked big boobs; but nothing in the
world turned me on more than strong women. And I'm not talking emotionally powerful
women either. I mean women with immense physical strength. And it seemed like the
stronger the woman; the more turned on I got.

I have no idea how I developed this unusual fetish. It's not like I was surrounded by
strong women as a kid. In fact, I had really never met a woman much more than slightly
athletic, but it made no difference. I was hooked, and there was nothing I could do to
make it go away. Believe me I tried. Social awkwardness wasn't the only thing that kept
me alone most nights. The fact of the matter was, the kind of woman that really turned
me on, that really got my blood boiling, simply didn't exist. So I was left chasing this
unattainable fantasy girl that left me perpetually unsatisfied.

I had kept my desires secret, even from Jamie, my closest friend. It had been my
experience that most people thought strong, muscular women were manly; not to be the
object of desire. The various demands of my life had left me too few friends to risk
alienating them with my odd fetish. Of everyone I knew, only Mike knew my secret, and
that’s because we shared the same fetish, well close enough. I could still remember quite
vividly the way I found out Mike shared my interests.

Being turned on by strong women isn’t like being turned on by big breasts. You can see
a big set of tits anywhere. It’s much harder to find a woman who can press an SUV over
her head. I was stuck lusting after cartoon characters and 3D renders. There was a site
that sold magazines filled with art depicting strong, powerful women. So I got a PO Box
so that I could get them delivered to me without my roommate knowing.

It all seemed to be working out fine, until one day I noticed one of the large envelops
from the magazine company showed up in my mailbox. I was relieved I was home first,
something that didn’t happen often, and quickly hid the envelop in my room. Later that
night, when I opened it to check out the new mags, I was surprised to find that I hadn’t
ordered them. I double checked the address on the package, and was mortified to find out
that they were addressed to my roommate, Mike.

My first instinct was to throw the things away and pretend like they never came. But at
the 11th hour I changed my mind. I had spent so long keeping my fantasies bottled up
inside, the thought of actually knowing someone I could freely talk to about it was
appealing to me. And so I gave Mike his magazines, showed him mine, and we had a
long talk about our fetish of choice. It wound up forming the tightest bond I felt to
anyone, outside of Jamie that is.

I had little fear that Mike would spill the beans on my secret, not the least of which is it
would have ousted him as well, and he was just as secretive about his fantasy as I was of
mine. On top of that, Mike was the shyest person I’ve ever met. The only reason I was
even close to him was because we were roommates, and to my knowledge, he didn’t
really have any friends I hadn’t introduced him to. He was terrified around other people,
except his few friends with whom he was merely timid. He was especially nervous
around pretty woman. When he was around Jamie, he was all but comatose. There was
no way he told her.

Be that as it may, she had found out somehow, there was no doubt. Just as disturbing,
she knew my fantasy, and yet still claimed to be my fantasy girl! Sure she was a lot more
buff than she had ever been, but she'd need to be gigantic to have the strength I truly
desired. For the first time, I allowed for the fact that Jamie might not be entirely sane.
What a great vacation this was turning out to be.

Regardless of what just happened, it was a vacation, and I couldn't spend it standing in
the bathroom. Still, I had to do something about my rigid cock. I whipped it out, and
stroked it furiously until I achieved sweet relief. I felt so creepy, masturbating in the
bathroom with Jamie in the other room, but there was nothing else for it.

I flushed the toilet and washed my hands before sheepishly creeping out of the bathroom.
Jamie greeted me with a raised eyebrow, and a devilish grin.

"Sorry." I said as I plopped down on a chair on the far side of the room from her.  "This…uh…
 alcohol is going right through me."

Jamie contented herself with a knowing smile before silently turning her attention back to
the film. The smile never left her face.

The next hour was complete torture. The movie was chocked full of strength feats. Lara
bending a fire poker, Lara crushing a pool ball to dust with her bare hand, Lara busting
through a locked door, Lara lifting and throwing a full sized van, and on and on and on.
And I just couldn't keep my eyes off of it. As awkward as I felt with Jamie sitting just a
few feet away from me, I just couldn’t pull my eyes away from the screen. Lara was my
fantasy come flesh. I was willing to look past the cheesy special effects to enjoy the
object of my desire. I almost forgot Jamie was in the room.

Then the tone of the film started to change; the movie took a dark turn. Lara wasn't
handling her powers well. She became emotionally unstable and more than a little crazy.
She started using her strength to hurt people, even kill people. And she was simply too
powerful to be stopped. A dozen men were powerless against her. Bullets bounced off
her body without causing a bit of harm, and all the while she left a trail of death and
destruction in her wake.

I looked at Jamie, once more wondering at her mental state. She was completely
engrossed with the film, studying it, embracing it. I had a sudden terrible thought. This
isn't what she thought my fantasy was, was it? There was certainly a portion of the
amazon admirers that seemed to love stories of powerful women performing unspeakable
acts of cruelty to helpless men. I didn't understand why anyone would fantasize about
getting tortured and killed, but then there were people who had an equally hard time
understanding my obsession.

Jamie clicked off the TV as the movie ended and rose up from the couch. She turned and
regarded me with a predatory look on her face. "This is what you like, isn't it?" Her
voice was soft, but confident. "A strong, powerful woman, capable of grinding a man’s
bones to dust with the strength of her bare hands."

Oh my god! She was insane! She took a slow step toward me, a predator stalking its
prey. I jumped up from my chair and shook my head vigorously. “No, no, no.” She was
starting to freak me out. She had a fire in her eyes that I’d never seen before. It looked
like she was about to pounce on me. I did not like the way this conversation was going at
all. I put my hands out, trying to get her to stop “Look, I don’t know what Mike told
you, but this is not my thing! I don’t want to get ground to dust by you or anyone.”

But Jamie didn’t even seem to hear me. She kept taking slow, deliberate steps toward
me; her entire body was tensed, making her muscles bulge from her limbs. She looked
like she was ready to pounce on me. “Oh really? You don’t want me to wrap my arms
around you and crush you in a bear hug that will force the breath from your lungs. Or
maybe you’d like me to wrap my legs around your head and squeeze with these powerful
thighs until your head pops like a zit!”

My heart was pounding nervously. I was starting to get worried that she was actually
going to attack me. Not that I was afraid of getting hurt. Despite her buff physique, she
was half my size at the most. I was in no danger of getting crushed or popped by her. On
the other hand, I was a very strong guy, and I was worried that I might inadvertently hurt
her while trying to stop her from attacking me. “Let’s just calm down. This is getting a
little crazy. You’ve been misinformed. This is not what I want.”

In a flash she launched herself at me. I was surprised at how fast she moved, but I was
ready for it. I grabbed her outstretched arms, getting a hand around each of her wrists,
and kept them at bay. I was a bit impressed at how much effort it took me to keep her at
bay; she must have been pretty amped up. “Jamie, stop.” I kept my voice even, trying to
diffuse the situation. “Someone’s going to get hurt.”

She looked up at me with an evil smile. “That’s the idea isn’t it?” With a lightning quick
move, she twisted her wrists, pulling them both free from my grasp. Before I could even
think to react, she leaned forward and pushed her hands into my chest. I was completely
stunned, as the force from her push sent me sprawling back down into the chair. How the
hell did she do that?

She reached forward; curling her arms into a Most Muscular pose. Defined muscles
bulged all over her impressive body. She had the most well defined body I’d ever seen
before in my life! I couldn’t help but to gawk at her in awe.

And then suddenly, she bust out laughing, clutching her stomach and doubling over in a
full on belly laugh. "Oh my god. Hahahaha, you...you should see
yourself...hehehehe...oh god, hahaha, you look like you’re jaw’s going to fall off."

The perplexed look on my face sent Jamie into another laughing fit. By the time she
finally got control over herself she was grinning ear-to-ear, tears rolled down her face and
her body shook with laughter. It did nothing to lessen my confusion. "What the hell?"

"Oh come on," she playfully tapped me on the shoulder. "You didn't really think I was
going to hurt you, did you?"

Of course I didn’t, not really. I was suddenly embarrassed that I would think she’d
consider hurting me. I knew her much better than that. "Uh, no…um, of course not. No,
don't be silly."

"Oh Paul. I was just playing." She plopped down on my lap, took my head in her hands,
and gave me a peck on the lips. "Honey, I love you. I would never even think of hurting
so much as the tiniest little hair on your pretty little head. You know that right?"

The tension eased from my body. "Yeah, kind of funny, huh. You really had me going
for a minute there." She was running her fingers through my hair. "I can't believe I
actually thought you could hurt me." I let myself chuckle.

Jamie cocked an eyebrow at me. "Who said anything about could?"

I looked at her, confused.

She leaned down, her face right in front of mine, her eyes searching my own. "I said I
wouldn't hurt you, Paul. I know you don't want me to beat you up. I do know you better
than that." She leaned closer still, her lips brushed up against my cheek. "But I also
know that you fantasize about strong and powerful women." Her lips traveled along my
cheek to my ear. She began massaging my ear with her lips. When she spoke, it was
barely a whisper. "And I did tell you that I became your fantasy woman."

Before I could think of anything to say, her lips left my ear and found my mouth. Her
soft, supple lips gently caressed my own, giving me feelings I'd never felt from a kiss
before. Then her tongue was in my mouth, gently sliding across mine; so soft, so sensual,
so amazing. I was too stunned by what was happening to even think about pushing her
away, and her lips felt so good I really wouldn't have wanted to anyway. I just sat there
motionless; letting her give me the most amazing kiss I've ever received.

After what seemed like forever, she finally pulled away. She sat on my lap, dreamily
looking into my eyes. "I can't tell you how long I dreamed of doing that."

"Uh huh." Was all I could manage.

Her smile deepened. Right then and there, she looked so happy, so content, so
completely in love. She got up off of my lap, leaned over and gave me a peck on my
cheek. "It's late. I'm going to bed. Good night."

Later it would occur to me that she might have been giving me an invitation to join her,
but at the moment, I was lost in my own thoughts, staring at a fireplace devoid of flame.
I couldn’t believe I let her kiss me! Why didn’t I do something to stop her? And oh god,
she knew of my fantasy, my obsession. How did she know? Forget that; did it bother
her? Apparently not from the way she just kissed me, but who knew with women. More
over, she knew my fantasies and still proclaimed to be my fantasy woman. How could
that be? Didn’t she realize that was impossible?

But the biggest thing on my mind, as Jamie got up off my lap and walked out of the
room, was the fact that I was sitting there, sporting a huge erection! For Jamie! She had
to have felt it. She had to have known, hell, she was probably thrilled that she had that
effect on me. But for me, it just wasn’t that simple.

I mean I raised her; she was part of my family. Sure we weren’t blood, but I was closer
to her than to any blood relative I have. Wasn’t that wrong? Didn’t that make me a dirty
old man? How could I possibly just let myself give in to her? What would that make
me?

I stared into the empty fireplace, looking for answers that weren’t to be found. Trying to
sort out feelings that I never thought I’d experience. Trying to reconcile my head with
my heart. I stared for a long time, late into the night. The answers never came.

[snaggle321]

 

Awesome!

[Salocin27]

delightful !!!!!!

[sgsg69]

fabulous story, your style is so amazing, I love the that conflict within Paul is slowly and expertly being broken down.......can't wait for her to reveal how she has become his fantasy women. K+++

[Oerba-Lightning]

Awesome !

(But where and how can I find me a Jamie, though?)