Off with the Old; On with the New
Romance, Hetero sex, Oral


Looking at the National Enquirer's doomsday
prediction for the new millennium, I thought "The
New Year can't bring any more chaos into my life,
because this year done brought me plenty." I stood
in line at the grocery store, trying not to drop
my bundle of goodies. "I come in for milk and end
up with an arm load. Good thing I have short
arms." I thought this as I idly watched the man in
front of me counting pennies. "You are three cents
short, sir." The cashier said, chewing gum. She
looked young enough to be in grade school. "Does
her mom know that she's here?" I thought, feeling
old. The man continued digging into his pants
pockets. I had the feeling that he would still
come up short, again.

I dropped my armload onto the conveyor belt,
hoping that my feminine products wouldn't fly off
the belt and cause a scene, because I hate that
when it happens. "Here you go," I said, giving the
girl a nickel. I wanted to get home before the
clock struck midnight and everyone turned into Y2K
pumpkins. "Thanks," he said. I nodded, watching
the register to make sure she didn't double beep
something. He grabbed his bag and left. I noticed
that he had on a thin blue oxford shirt, khaki
pants, no winter coat, gloves or warm shoes. My
mind would have called him homeless, because of
his ruffled unkempt appearance, but his shirt and
pants were sporting an expensive fashion designer
logo. Grabbing my bags, I dismissed him, thinking
of my other stops.

As I walked out the exit, passing some benches, I
saw him sitting on one, eating an apple. The
manager, an asshole I dated once, was giving him a
hard time, probably about loitering outside the
store. I felt sorry for the man. He looked
harmless and cold. It was already close to
freezing at 5:05 pm. No one should be out tonight.
I overheard the stranger tell Bob, the king of
anal retention, that he had no place to go. But
Bob shooed him off anyway. I drove off feeling
pity and guilty. I should help but what to do was
the question. I stopped for gas, filling my tank
and grabbing a newspaper. I saw a policeman drive
by. I briefly thought that maybe the man would
have a warm place to sleep tonight after all. I
hear that the jailhouse is warm and the food not
as bad as TV makes it out to be.

At home, quietness greeted me. "Another year
gone," I thought, "and soon to be forgotten." I
put some soup on to simmer, while I made a cup of
coffee for now to warm my bones. The answering
machine's light blinked brightly at me. I choose
to ignore it. I wasn't in the mood for parties
tonight. I wanted a quiet end to a tough year and
an even quieter beginning to the new one. Tonight
was pamper the old puss night. I had a bubble
bath, manicure, pedicure, body exfoliation, and
other delicate top-secret feminine things planned.
It is off with the old and on to the new, this
being my new philosophy for Y2K. I drank my coffee
as I read the newspaper. The soup smelled great. I
was looking at the clock, which read 6:57 pm,
thinking that at 8 pm would be a great time to
start exfoliating when a commotion outside got my
attention. I went to the window, nosy as any
neighbor around, wanting to see if this
disturbance was going to affect my shrubs. They
were delicate and needed quiet security.

It was the stranger from the grocery store,
surrounded by Mr. Meeks' ugly dogs of the Heinz 57
variety. Mr. Meeks was in Florida for the holidays
and everyone in the neighborhood wished that he
had taken those mangy mutts with him. They always
managed to get out of his fence and terrorize the
neighborhood. I grabbed a rolling pen out of my
kitchen utensil drawer, glad for a chance to kick
mutt ass. With a banshee screech, I ran towards
the chaos unfolding in my backyard. The dogs
scattered in all directions, while the strange man
cowered with his arms protectively over his head,
waiting for the blows to fall. I chased the dogs
out of my yard, calling them names. Satisfied that
I had terrified them, hoping that they were in the
next town by now, I returned to the trespasser.
"Lose something, buddy?" I asked. He stood up to
his full six-foot frame. " I was trying to find a
warm place to huddle for the night, when these
filthy animals attacked me. Your local police
department seems to think that I am a vagrant,
telling me I can't stay in one place for more than
10 minutes. I am very cold so I asked to be locked
up but they say I need to break the law. Believe
it or not but, I am not a homeless person. I was
robbed and my car was stolen this morning at a
rest stop off the interstate. I cannot find any
one to vouch for me. It's the holidays and not one
of my family, colleges or friends is reachable. My
money is depleted and my credit cards stolen. I
have no ID and I am cold, tired and want a hot
shower. I would kill for a shot of scotch." He
said this while shivering. At 7 pm it was now in
the lower thirties. I felt that streak of pity and
guilt, again. I knew I shouldn't but I said, "Come
inside. I can't let a man freeze underneath my
azaleas."

He hesitated momentarily, looking at my chosen
weapon. Waving the rolling pen, I motioned him to
follow. I pulled out a chair for him to sit down
in at the kitchen table. I got a soup bowl, spoon
and some fresh bread from the counter. I placed
the soup bowl, with hot potato chowder almost over
flowing, on the place mat in front of him. I
sliced some bread, along with jam and honey,
placed it on the table. Pouring a big glass of
skim milk, I said, "This isn't scotch but it's
what you need for now. Eat up, partner." I watched
him devour the meal. To him at this moment, it was
the Breakfast of Champions. I left him alone to
eat. I rummaged through my closet looking for some
discarded clothes that my last boyfriend had left.
I found some gray sweat pants with a hole in the
knee. I had a sweatshirt that said, "Your village
called. Their idiot is missing." It was two sizes
too large. I had gotten it for Christmas from my
brother who cannot grasp the concept of shopping
for women. I looked for some socks that would
stretch. His feet looked large. The only thing I
lacked for him was underwear. I don't think mine
would fit or that he was that type of male, so I
would have to wash the ones that he was wearing.

I returned to the kitchen, where he was lapping up
the last of his soup. He had a contented look on
his dirty face. I noticed some scratches on his
hand. "Are you finished? Want some more?" I asked.
He shook his head, "No thank you. That was the
best soup I have ever eaten in my entire life." I
smiled. "Send Campbell Soup a thank you card. All
I did was spice it up a bit. Want a hot shower?"
He looked incredulous for a moment, "Ah, yes, I
would love one. I hate to put these dirty clothes
back on but at least I will look clean." "Don't
worry about that. I have something for you to
wear." His look of disbelief made me laugh. "Need
not worry, big guy. You can't wear my clothes they
would rip. I have some things that my last
boyfriend left behind. They are in the bathroom
with some soap, a razor, and a clean towel.
Shampoo is on the shower shelf. I placed an extra
toothbrush and some toothpaste out for you, also.
A brush should be on the vanity. What ever you
can't find...just holler and I will get it. It's
the second door on the right."

I cleaned the kitchen while he showered. I wasn't
sure what to do next. My mind said, "Girl friend,
are you crazy? He could be a deranged killer or
rapist, lusting for your body and wanting to eat
your eyes. Ask him to leave." My heart said, "It's
New Year's Eve. Where is he going to go? It's so
cold out. Just keep the rolling pen handy and
you'll be all right." I remembered a story Grandpa
Cox used to tell me. It was right after the Second
World War; he was trying to get home after being
released from his tour in Germany. He got mixed up
at a train station in some Louisiana backwoods
town. He didn't know a soul, couldn't call home
due to the fact that his parents didn't have a
phone, and the next train out was for 5 pm the
next day. He went to the local church, hoping to
get out of the weather. There he ran into an
elderly couple that was praying for their lost
son. He had died while a prisoner of the German
Army. My Grandpa talked with them awhile, trying
to lessen the horrors that their imagination made
about their son's treatment while incarcerated.
Knowing my Grand, he probably made it sound like
the poor soul was held at a health spa. The old
couple invited him to their house where they fed
him and gave him a place to sleep. He always told
me never to turn your back on your fellow man nor
to judge him by his looks, and to always give the
benefit of doubt that every soul was due to
receive.

I heard him whistling as he came back into the
kitchen. "I feel like a new man. Thank you,
Miss...you know I don't know your name. Mine is
Roger." He extended his hand to me. "Call me
Sherrie. Not miss." I shook his hand. Thinking to
myself, "My goodness. This man is gorgeous!" He
had dark hair with the greenest eyes I have ever
seen. He did look rather cuddly in that sweatshirt
and torn sweatpants. His face looked smooth and
kissable with a devilish dimple in his chin. "Make
yourself at home, Roger. The remote control is on
the coffee table. If you need to use the phone you
may. I'm going to wash your clothes." The sudden
sound of a newscaster's voice interrupted the
silence of the house, while masking the sound of
numbers being punched into the phone. I vanished
into the cellar to wash his clothes. As I was
putting them in the washer, I noticed that the
sleeve of his shirt had blood on it, thus
reminding me of his injuries that I had seen
earlier.

Back upstairs; I invaded my medicine cabinet,
finding antibacterial wash and ointment. My
Band-Aids had Snoopy on them, because my nephew
refuses to wear any other kind. Roger was dozing
on the couch. I stood debating if I should try to
administer my doctoring techniques or let him
sleep. I could see the scratches on his left hand,
no doubt made in his effort to get away from those
hounds of hell. I knew that a tetanus shot was in
order but I wasn't going to cart him off to the
hospital on a holiday eve. He turned on the couch,
curling into an almost fetal position. The
sweatpants were a tad smug on his tall frame. He
probably wore a large size and those were medium.
I silently admired his cute rear end, forgetting
all my Florence Nightingale duties. I made a small
noise with my throat, causing him to stir. He
stretched and when he did, I noticed the front of
his tightly packed sweatpants. I could see every
square inch of his huge manhood. It looked to be
sculptured out of fleece material and for a
fleeting moment I wanted to be those sweats.

Noticing my stare, he quickly sat up right. I
tried to cover my embarrassment. "I want to take
care of your crotch, um...I mean your scratch. You
know, those on your hand." I stammered this,
getting even redder in the face. He looked at his
hand. "They're fine. Must have done that when I
jumped that fence next door, while trying to lose
those mutts. It's nothing." I wouldn't take no for
an answer, "Look, if you don't clean those
properly you'll get lock jaw or your hand will
fall off. I used to be a nursing assistant when I
was younger. I know what I'm doing." "No," he
said, "it will hurt." He hid his hand behind his
back. "It won't hurt. Don't be such a baby." I
laughed at him. My nephew was just as bad. I tried
the tactics that I use to get him to cooperate on
this 6- foot baby. "I will give you some ice
cream, if you be a big boy and let me make your
hand all better." "No!" He said. "I will make some
homemade chocolate chip cookies..." I let the
sentence hang in the air. "No box mix? Real
homemade cookies? Man, I haven't had homemade
cookies in years. Well..."He was contemplating my
offer, "all right!"

He offered his wounds to my attentive care. I
tried to be gentle but he still flinched once.
"Sorry," I said. He watched me put the Snoopy
Band-Aids on his scratch. "Hey now, I wasn't that
big of a baby." "Those are all I have, dear sir."
I mockingly curtsied. He laughed. "When do I get
my cookies? Or are you like all adults who lie to
little boys?" I smiled, "I will make up a batch in
a little while. I am going to get a shower first.
Just in case we lose power tonight." "Don't
worry," he said," the Y2K bug theory is over
hyped. Things should go smoothly tonight." I
shrugged my shoulders, "Maybe." Then I left the
room.

Once in my bedroom, I looked for something cozy
but not too sexy. Can't have that inappropriate
lust sneaking in. Finally, I decided on a leopard
skin pajama lounge set which has a pseudo velvet
feel to it. It had a v-neck and did my breasts
justice. The shower felt great. I was rinsing the
shampoo from my hair, when I heard his voice.
"Miss Sherrie, you have a call." "I am in the
shower. What are you doing? Take a frigging
message!" I was irritated. He had some nerve. I
thought I had locked the door. "This dude is very
adamant about speaking to you." He was holding the
cordless phone. "Just a second." I said, turning
the water off and sticking a hand out. "Hand me
that big blue towel there on the sink. You can put
the phone down. I will get to it in a second."
"Here you go. Sorry to disturb you." He made a
hasty retreat. I peeked out from behind the
curtain. The coast was clear. I could hear a
masculine voice ranting from the phone. I sighed,
knowing whom it was. I wrapped the towel around me
and got one for my hair, before I answered the
phone.

"Hello" I said. My ex-boyfriend replied in a
slightly upset voice. "Sherrie, are you all right?
Who was that? There's a man running loose in your
neighborhood. I thought that I would come over and
stay." Chuck and I had not been an item in 4
months, but in his feeble mind we still were. His
lack of keeping a job and poor quality sexual
service was the damning factor that broke us up.
"No, Chuck, I am okay. I don't need you here. I
have company for the night." Well I did, just not
like I was insinuating. He was silent for a
moment. "You have a man over there. When did you
decide to see some one else?" I took a deep
breath. "Chuck, you know that we aren't seeing
each other any more. I think you need to move on."
"Who is he? Your brother's little friend." He was
referring to a man half my age. "It isn't any of
your business. I have to go, Chuck. I was in the
shower, and I am dripping wet. Good bye, Chuck.
Happy New Year." I waited for a response. I heard
his slow exhale before he hung the phone up. I was
gleeful for a moment. That problem finally put to
rest. It was wrong of me to use the situation of
my houseguest as a means to an end. I did it
anyway.

Dropping the towel to the floor, I was lavishing
peach scented body lotion on me, when the door
cracked open. "Every thing okay?" Roger said,
sticking his head inside the bathroom. "Oops,
sorry." He ducked out, but not before getting a
glance at my naked body. I grabbed for the towel,
a little too late, as the door shut with a bang. I
stood in mortification. How much had he seen and
how did I look? I wiped the mist off the mirror.
Combing my hair, I reassured myself that he didn't
see much, not in that second. I quickly dressed. I
lingered in the bath, longer than usual, trying to
make sure that I looked my best dressed incase I
frightened him while naked.

He was sitting on the couch with a sheepish grin.
"Sorry," was all that he said. I changed the
subject before it became one. "Why didn't you let
the machine pick up that call?" "I did the first
three times. I didn't know if it was an emergency.
He sounded frantic. Who was that idiot? He didn't
like the fact that I answered the phone. He asked
me what was I doing with his girl? I told him,
showering!" He found this amusing. "That was my ex
boyfriend. We broke up 4 or so months ago. Those
are his sweatpants you're wearing." "Is this his
sweatshirt?" He pointed at the words on it. "I
think he qualifies for the Village Idiot
position." Laughing, I said, "No that's mine. My
silly brother gave that to me for Christmas. I
need to check on your clothes."

He followed me into the basement. Looking around
at my clutter, he asked if I owned the place. From
there we made small talk about the house and some
of the odds and ends I had hanging around the
room. His clothes secure in the dryer, we had our
way back upstairs. He asked to use the phone
again, promising to recompense anything owed for
calls. Giving him privacy, I retired to the
kitchen to bake his cookies. I was placing the
first batch to be baked into the oven, when I
heard his voice rising in anger. I quickly went to
see what the problem could be. He was sitting on
the couch with his free hand clenched in a tight
fist. "Cecile, get your mother now! I don't care
if she is having dinner. I am stranded 600 hundred
miles from home with no money. I need to talk to
her, young lady. Now!" He was talking to someone
on the phone that obviously wasn't cooperating.
"Don't hang up! Damn, stupid girl." He muttered
the insult. Looking at me in the doorway. "That
was the teenage daughter of my lady friend. She
hates my guts. I know if I call back the line will
be busy and will be like that all night. She will
tell her mom of my ordeal in a day or so." He
sighed heavily. "I am sorry for being a burden
tonight. You probably had plans and here I am in
the way." I felt sorry for him. Placing a
comforting hand on his shoulder, I said, "Roger,
it's okay. I had no plans." Squeezing his
shoulder, I said in a very cheery voice, "I smell
delicious cookies. Want a few while they're hot?"
He licked his lips and followed me into the
kitchen.

The cookies were wonderful. We made pigs out of
ourselves. I put the remaining ones on a plate for
him to eat later. Looking at the clock, I noticed
that it was close to 10 pm. I guess my exfoliation
would have to wait. We returned to the living room
to watch TV. He tried a few people and got
answering machines. I listened to him leave a
message with my number on them. I found his voice
to be liquid smooth and hypnotic. I was relieved
to find that he couldn't get through to any one. I
was enjoying his company.

Finally giving up, he placed the phone on the
coffee table. "I guess you're stuck with me,
Sherrie." I smiled, "I could put you outside with
the hounds, if you prefer." The door chime
interrupted his retort. It was almost 11 pm. I
couldn't imagine who would be coming by at this
time of night. Looking out the peephole, I saw
Chuck and his best friend, Steve along with two
blondes that I didn't know. Chuck started pounding
on the door, yelling, and "The party stops here.
Let us in!" I opened the door. Chuck pushed past
me, heading for the living room. As soon as he saw
Roger, he turned to me saying, "Who is this,
Sherrie?" I introduced Roger to Chuck and Steve,
purposefully ignoring the girls. "Chuck," I said,
trying not to sound angry and start an argument,
"We aren't having a party. Just a cozy night
alone. Jenny Brown is having one at her house on
Birch Street. A lot of people you know will be
there." I knew that he had no intention of
leaving. His plans were to see what was going on
here at my house. He had the look of having a few
drinks under his belt already.

Roger stood up, offering them a seat. "Sherrie,
they won't intrude upon our plans for the evening.
Let them stay awhile." He winked at me, "We have
all night, lover." My mouth fell open. Had he
overheard my conversation to Chuck earlier? I
believe I have an eavesdropper under my roof. I
took his hand, "If you're sure that it's okay,
Darling!" He pulled me into his arms. "Would you
people like some cookies? Sherrie made them for
me." Steve excitedly said, "Yeah man, Sherrie is
the best cook." Roger kissed my lips lightly
before heading to the kitchen. "I'll be right
back, love." Chuck was watching all this with
barely controlled anger. "Where did you meet him?"
I was mentally stalled, but Roger saved the day,
returning from the kitchen, he said, " I met
Sherrie in her backyard. She helped me find my
relative's lost dogs. Didn't you, Cupcake." He was
playing the role to the tea. I responded with,
"Darling, I am sure that they don't want to hear
our boring tale." Chuck said, rudely, "Don't get
to cozy, dude. Her heart is taken."

I decide then and there that our uninvited guests
had to go. Roger, a step ahead of me, stood above
Chuck, saying, "I think that Sherrie and I have
some things to do that don't require an audience."
"Steve, I think you guys need to go find another
party. There isn't one here." I said, walking to
the door. Steve gathered the girls up and hustled
Chuck out the door. I locked it behind them,
relieved. I turned to Roger who was standing a few
feet away. "Thanks. You did a fine acting job."
"Who was acting?" He leaned down and kissed my
lips, softly. I responded by closing my eyes. He
gathered me within the shelter of his arms, as our
passion ignited. We kissed for ages by the door,
our tongues bantering back and forth. I broke our
sealed mouths by whispering, "Let's go sit on the
couch." He held my hand, tightly as we went back
into the living room.

Once situated, he made no effort to kiss me. I sat
waiting. He seemed to be in retrospect, rubbing
his chin. "What's wrong, Roger?" I asked, rather
unusually timid. I was more than a little
confused. Moments ago this man was giving me on
fire kisses and now, he had drifted into shell.
Turning to me, he looked with a tender expression,
before lightly kissing my trembling lips.
"Sherrie, sweet kind generous lady, please forgive
me of my rudeness. I was about to take advantage
of your kindness and hospitality. My little head
was thinking for my big head. Sherrie, where you
are concerned, I refuse to let that happen. For
over eight hours today, I roamed these streets,
looking for someone to help me. I always thought
that in the south one would find hospitality no
matter what the situation. But I was wrong. Then
you come along. Not once but twice you showed
compassion and bailed me out of a fine mess. You
were the woman at the grocery store, who spared a
nickel. Then you saved me from those ugly dogs.
You have given me shelter; food, clean clothes and
have even let me make phone calls. Let's not
forget your medical administrations with cookies
as the bonus award. You are an angel, a rare find
in this age of non-involvement, anger, and evil
lukewarmness. No, Sherrie, you are kind,
passionate, fiery as a wild huntress and so
beautiful. To do what I want would be a disrespect
that you do not deserve in return for your
kindness."

I sat in stunned silence, thinking to myself that
he had to be joking. After those kisses by the
door, he was telling me he was sorry for giving
them. "What do you want to do, Roger?" I asked.
The rapidness he made with his retort surprised
me. Speaking with barely concealed passion, he
said, "I want to slowly undress you. I want to
look and admire that pale luscious body that I saw
briefly while you were in the bathroom. Kissing
you to take away all the kisses other men have
given you. Then kiss you once again to replace
them with my own. I want to worship your body,
inhale that peach fragrant that has made me
hungry, and longing to taste you. I want to kiss
and lick you in places that have yet to be
discovered. I want to give you such pleasure. I
want to..." The ringing phone interrupted him. I
answered, breathlessly, "Hello." A bubbling female
voice said, "Hello, is Roger Stokes there?" I
handed him the phone. "Hello? Janet, Darling.
Thank God! So Celeste did give you my message. You
won't believe what happened...." The relief on his
face and the happiness in his voice deflated any
desire and hopes that I was secretly harboring for
this man of the world. Delusions can create
pitfalls. I was about to fall into one. I left the
room to give him privacy to talk to his lady.

In the kitchen, I nibbled on a cookie, while
mentally kicking myself. Going down to the
basement, I got his clothes from the dryer. I was
shaking the wrinkles from his pants, thinking that
I should iron them, while hoping that I hadn't
ruined them. Roger came bouncing down the stairs,
calling for me. "Sherrie, I called a cab for a
ride to some place called 'The Ali Baba Convenient
Store.' Janet is wiring me some money. Then I am
off to the airport. She has placed me on standby
for a flight home. I can't believe that I am
finally somebody again." His glee was that of a
child, and it would have been a delight to enjoy
his happiness but I couldn't because I felt this
sadness come over me. I didn't want him to leave.
I liked this man, but I would never breathe a word
to him about it. "Here are your clothes."
"Thanks." He said as he went to the bathroom to
change. Once again he was dressed to kill. "I hope
that I didn't ruin them by washing them instead of
dry cleaning them." "Sherrie, you did fine. Thank
you for all that you have done for me. I think
that I should be home in four hours. I am leaving
my phone number. When you get your bill, please
call me and tell me what I owe you." "Don't worry
about it." I said. The cab blew its horn
announcing its arrival. "Thanks, Sherrie." He
kissed my lips ever so softly. For a moment my
blue eyes locked with his green ones. I tried to
memorize them, seared their imprint into my
memory. He turned at the door, "Sherrie," He said,
"I really meant all that I said earlier. You are
one special angel. Thank you for being mine." Then
he was gone.

I locked the door, shutting off the light. I
glanced at the clock, noticing that midnight and a
New Year were only 20 minutes away. I decided that
a bubble bathe would be nice place to be at
midnight. I ran the water, pouring more bath foam
than I needed into the hot water. I pinned my hair
up, with a few ringlets escaping. Wrapping myself
into my robe, I ventured to the fridge to retrieve
the bottle of merlot that I had chilling. Pouring
myself a glass, I toasted Dick Clark. Trying to
get Roger out of my mind, I slipped into the hot
sudsy water. Relaxing, and sipping my wine, I
wondered if this was the beginning of a rather
bizarre year or the ending of a weird one, either
way I needed to forget that Mr. Roger Stokes ever
came into my life. Closing my eyes, I started to
hum "Splish Splash, I was taking a bath..." when I
heard the doorbell ringing rather erratically.
"Chuck, it had better not be you." I thought to
myself. I rapped a towel around me, thinking to
myself that just because I might be horny didn't
mean that I should let Chuck into my bedroom.

Spying through the peephole in my door, I was
stunned to see, not Chuck but Roger. I opened the
door, trying to keep a neutral look upon my face.
"Did you forget something?" I asked, noticing that
the cab driver was driving away. "My God, Sherrie,
Get back inside before you freeze." He stepped
back into my life, while pushing me into the
foyer. "Did I interrupt you in the shower? You
have bubbles on your shoulder." I stood there
looking at him, wondering what was going on.
"Roger, why are you here? Did something go wrong?"
I asked, as my heart raced. I dared not dream that
he was back to be with me. "Go back to your
shower, dear. I'll put on some coffee. Then we
will talk." "Bubble bath not shower," I said, "and
I have some Merlot chilling in the bathroom sink."
"Get back to your bath." He said, kissing me
lightly. I did as I was told. I had just slipped
back underneath the abundant bubbles, when he came
into the bath, carrying a wine glass. He was
dressed once again in those garage sale sweats and
my silly sweatshirt. He poured himself a glass of
wine. Pausing by the tub, he took a sip, "Just
what I needed, Sherrie." He sat on the floor
beside me. I modestly covered myself with bubbles,
not sure where this was going to lead.

Placing his glass on the tub's edge, he reached
for the bath sponge that was floating in the
water. As he took my right arm and started to
softly sponge it, he spoke, "When I got the call
from Janet that I was saved, I couldn't believe
that my nightmare was over. Sherrie, my hell
started this morning at 6:30. You wouldn't believe
some of the things that happened to me. I am not
used to having to rely on strangers for anything.
I am a pillar of strength in my professional life
and personal affairs. This feeling of helplessness
and abuse was new to me. Then you came along. I
will never forget what you did for me, an unknown
dirty stranger. After I got my wired cash, the
cabbie drove me to the airport. I sat there for
about 3 minutes, thinking of you and the warmth of
your mouth." Laughing, he said, "My clothes
smelled like you. How could I leave? I told him to
wait, went inside to the check-in counter and
arranged to leave tomorrow evening. I made a quick
call to Janet and told her all flights were jammed
and to expect me tomorrow." I said nothing as he
talked about his plans changing. My heart was
racing. "My Dear, I won't lie to you and tell you
that there isn't anything between Janet and I. You
know better than that. You are bright and very
intuitive. Plus we are adults, so why play games?
I am here because I think that if I walk away from
you now that I will spend the rest of my life
wondering how those red lips of yours would have
felt on my body."

I sat in the bath as he gingerly stroked the
sponge over my breasts, pondering his wanderings.
I knew that he would step out of my life after
tomorrow. This was a fact. I had spent the last
year letting my needs and my desires fall by the
wayside, as I tried to please all but me. I wanted
him, with furious yearnings that I had forgotten
that I possessed. My pert dark nipples were
betraying me. My body was all ready responding to
his sponge touch. I looked into his eyes and
became lost in the desire there. His lips met mine
for a soft gentle kiss, while his hand dropped the
sponge to cradle my breasts. His thumb rubbed
across the surface of my nipple, causing me to
shiver. "Cold?" He asked. I couldn't answer as his
mouth firmly took possession of mine. "Is there
room in here for me?" He whispered this in my ear,
as his teeth nibbled on its lobe.

He stood up, quickly undressing. My eyes were
glued to his body, loving what they saw; firm
rippling muscles, modest hair and soft ermine fur
at the base of his semi erect manhood. He splashed
water everywhere as he climbed into the warmth of
the tub. I didn't mind. I was sure that more water
would soon follow. He pulled my legs over his,
wrapping his arms around my waist. Water surged
over the tub's rim, as we kissed with my breasts
and their hard bullet nipple's drilling into his
hairy chest. His cock was pressing into my lower
stomach. I reached between us to touch its velvet
head. It moved under my finger, so alive and warm.
With my need overwhelming me, I pushed it against
my inner pussy lip, trying to get it inside me. He
captured my wrist, stopping my hand. "Oh no," he
said, "Not so fast, Miss Sassafras!"

He held my hands in the strength of his own, as he
rubbed his purple cock head against my lips and
clit. "Stop!" I whispered brokenly, "You're going
to make me come!" Increasing his speed, as the
water splashed over board in a rhythm known only
by lovers, he commanded, "Good! Now come!" I did.
The wave that swept my body was as violent as the
waves our bodies' were making with the bath water,
all bubbles now deleted. I shook and shuddered. He
held me tight, kissing me as I came, still not
stopping his thrusts against my labia. I arched
back a mere fraction, causing his cock to slide
inside. "You, sly kitten," he said, thrusting
harder as my nails dug into the flesh of his
shoulders. "Sherrie, I never imagined what wetter
than wet could be until my cock entered your juicy
pussy,"

I came again, this time on his rock hard cock. I
couldn't control the jerking and twitching of my
stomach, legs and arms. My nipples ached because
of their hardness. "Damn it, I am going to come."
He did. I could feel his cock stiffen, prior to
his hot release. The pressure of its growth
pushing against my cervix, hit my g-spot. I felt
the presence of an even greater orgasm. He thrust
faster inside me as he came with the first squirt
bursting against my inside walls, splattering my
pink cervix. He pumped and pumped his come within
me, as my pussy erupted its g-spot induced orgasm
all over his cock. Slowly, the splashes subsided,
as our movement of one slowed its frantic pace.

He kissed me softly in rapid-fire precession. "I
am getting a cramp, Sherrie. Not as young as I
should be to be in this position. I think that the
type of exploration your body deserves should be
done in the comfort of a soft warm bed." He helped
me out of the tub and towel dried me in a very
brisk businesslike fashion. I noticed that his
cock had not lost that torrid state. He saw my
stare. "Damn it, Sherrie, you look like you have
never seen a man with a hard cock before. Quit
staring. You're starting to give me a complex." I
replied defensively, "Well Roger, the ones that I
have seen go down after coming." He threw his head
back, laughing, "Shall we see how many times I can
come before it goes down, Sherrie?" I smiled,
arching an eyebrow in agreement, as he carried me
down the hall towards the bedroom. Leaning over
me, as his fingers teased my clit, he whispered,
"What's a New Year without fire works, Sherrie?"
He watched my body shiver in response to his
touch. Answering his own question he said, "Just
another night. I think we need to explode all over
each other all night." He lowered his mouth over
my clit saying, "Let's have some fireworks, my
beautiful Southern Belle." We did.