A fictional story based on an idea I got from a friend of mine whose name in this story I put down as “Mar Varka”. It being in first person that I have chosen to write this story. As it is my wish to express the manner in which I perceive she experienced her dream involving the two of us.

There is something almost mystical about squares or “plazas” as they are called in my native Spanish tongue that brings out so many emotions in people, ranging from the joy of music to the night life to be found in them; as well as so many other aspects that do not exclude the sexuality in those seeking to hide their lust in the shadows of the night. This perhaps taking place in hours when the excitement of a nocturnal festivity may draw the attention of others away from their passionate carnality or when the hour of day may be one to provide solitude for those who seek it. This being my case, as it was the other day in my vision of fantasy which transformed in to dream that I found myself in a plaza which in all honesty I knew I had never been in yet it all seemed so familiar. It being a sensation in me that I had already been there or perhaps I only felt such due to how in a way all plazas, regardless of what city or town they may be located in share many things in common.

These similarities taking the colors of activities such as concerts to inspire not only imaginations but dances to expose bodies in the ecstasy of motion yet also in the way plazas are designed that make them in a sense, all look the same yet there was something familiar about this particular plaza. It seeming like one which I had seen in a photograph on the internet in which I saw a most distinguished man sitting on a bench in time of summer. The image being one of this man looking in the distance. As if lost in thoughts and completely unaware that his image was being recorded for many more to see yet it was as if this man was so involved in his contemplations that the last thing he cared about was how he had been photographed.

As for myself, it was on a night engulfed by summer’s heat that I took my place in the bed, I occupy with my husband that my imagination and fantasy took flight in my dreams. It being with the distant hope that my husband might engage my rose with the vitality his root used to display upon not only this precious flower of mine but the rest of my body that I wore a black silk night gown with nothing that might prevent it from directly stroking my body. This creating in me, a sensation of need for the caresses upon my body which had been so abundant at one point in our relationship yet had become but a memory; as time passed along with my husband’s expired years which numbered a score and a half higher than my own.

It was on that night after a kiss had been mine upon my husband’s mouth with no more return from his part than the same that I laid myself to sleep yet slumber did not arrive in its solid state giving not only the heat of the evening but the anxiety in my rose. It being one of craving to be rewarded with the elation of he whose desires made his root increase to the volume that might occupy all of my femininity, to the point of providing me with the sensation that my body had taken flight along with my soul. It being this anxiety in me which made me rise undetected by my husband’s sleep to my private bathroom many times through out the night yet not with desires to relieve my body of its wastes but myself of longing for the touch which I could not supply myself in the modest form of my own caresses. The heat of the night was intense and as I felt my fingers glide upon my breasts and garden in which my rose lay in, I observed myself with the sensation that I was still a woman who despite having past the double score by four years had the beauty to draw more than merely the gaze of many a gentleman. I being a beauty in the eyes of many a beholder with dark hair to equal the black of the night in its ability to capture the mystery of the stars while displaying them in their shine along with eyes of the same tone, so typical of my native South American country of Argentina.

As for the rest of me, as I looked down upon my body reflected in the mirror to permit me to evaluate my sensuality now unprotected by threads of either cotton or lace; I saw valleys which composed my gender to include all that which created desire in those of the opposite sex. It being my feminine mounds which I held in their size which though not overly large were shapely as those of one who is female true and true along with other attributes of mine to declare me as a woman of splendor. It being these and other emotions which guided my hands to all those corners of my being that required the agitation which my strokes could provoke yet in all it was slumber which came to me as I lay on the tiles to be found on the floor of my bathroom.

It being at that moment that I saw myself though I am not fully conscious if it was real or dream that witnessed me wonder about my house till I was drawn to leave it; as if I were being summoned by a force or perhaps my very own instinct to the plaza. All as if I were dreaming or perhaps sleep walking yet in all I ventured out of my house in but my light wears of the night to the place whose seductive ways seemed to be calling me as if through hypnosis. I, for part did not hesitate to follow this voice yet I was not really aware if that which beckoned me did not come from my yearnings or perhaps it was from one who desired me to the point that I could deny him even if such had been my intentions.

It was still not clear to me if mine were real or merely fantasies being lived or vivid visions of my sleep yet at this point it did not matter as I made my way to the plaza on a night on which all appeared to be taken from the paintings of Vincent Van Gogh. It feeling as if I were walking in one of the images created by the Dutch Master himself. This being my sense of reality, as the church in the plaza bore such a striking resemblance to the one at Auvers while the café which was still open brought to mind the one portrayed at night in another one of the maestro’s canvases. All of which giving the impression of danger along with the thrills which my body was experiencing as I walked about in search of that which had made me leave my house at this hour of the night in attires of intimacy usually reserved for the one who was attached to me in holly matrimony.

The night was hot and sultry with fragrances all about to further declare that the time of year which was upon me was the one to arrive with ardent temperatures and as I walked about a deserted plaza, my mind told me there was one whom I would find waiting for me. As it was his calling which had brought me to where I was yet I was unacquainted with who he was or what he looked like though somehow I was certain I would know who he was once he came across my vision. The plaza was quit and with not a sole in sight yet I felt his presence like the heat which I could not see with my eyes yet could not escape its impression on my skin. It was as I strolled about that I spotted him in the form of a shadow sitting on a bench in the middle of all the emptiness that was the plaza.

This prompting me to walk over to where he was and though he did not look in my direction, I was all too aware that he had taken notice of my presence and the fact that I was approaching him with more than the curiosity of wanting to know who he was or what it was that like myself had brought him out to the plaza at such an hour of the night. I walked and as I did, I could feel his gaze upon me though his face was turned in another direction yet despite this factor, my sensations detected his gape upon all that concerned my body.

I got to where he was and as I did, I saw for myself that this man was the one whom I had seen in the photo of that very plaza. All providing the impression that I had stepped in to the photo yet at a time of day when the sun had already made its descend from the sky above while excluding any about who might observe what ever our desires had brought on us. It was at this moment when faced with him that I did not know what to say as he looked at me with such passion that bordered on almost rage that it scared me as well as excited me to the point that I felt like running away yet was held in place by the weight of desire. As if our lust for the other was holding me in such a compromising position that I could not run away despite my initial instinct to do so.

How intense our gazes came to be that my trepidation banished whilst my eyes searched in to his as well as his body which was covered in wears as light as mine. It was at this point that I felt he would reach out for me yet he but insinuated in his eyes that he would which made me take the initiative, almost as if neither my words nor his had any need of coming out; for our messages were being transmitted by a more basic method which was desire expressed by our fragrances. Mine coming from my rose which like one in the rain was drenched with my own moisture while his came from all over his body which I could see in the form of drops upon his chest.

My eyes having gone about all of him and seeing him as if a silhouette in the dark yet it was without doubt that I knew this to be the man from the photo and as I looked at him, there was something about him that invited my rose, so deprived in the last months; to simply indulge in he who was but to fulfill my hunger. The situation was mine to do as I willed, this was clear as I could but walk away from this moment of lust with but my own regrets to accompany me or I could literally ride it out as one might do with a storm. It was after a few seconds which seemed longer that my gawk fell upon all of his body with the knowledge that what was about to occur was unavoidable for either of us, as if we had been sentenced to it by the night of mystery which had fallen over this plaza.

The time was at hand as desire impressed action upon me. It being this which propelled me as his eyes looked upon me with all the anxiety I had ever known, to do as I did. I, lifting my night gown slightly, much in the fashion I might have had I been wearing a dress in order to get on top of a horse. This as I took a seat on his lap with my back toward him while trusting my behind on to his root which my rose absorbed like one might a breath of fresh air on hot day. It being his root which found its way in to my paradise, as if my rose and garden had been created for solely the purpose of taking advantage of the occasion which was being presented on to me. As I sat upon him, he had became my steed, for me to ride as I chose and as I did so with more pace, I could feel his root entering deeper; to take me to the heavens above which I gazed upon. It being the walls of my paradise which caved in heavily on his root while the lips on my rose tightly squeezed it with all their might as they grasped all sensations from it.

The plaza was empty yet in all I could not help but sense that intruding eyes might be upon our activities yet this did not disturb either of us as his hands made their presence felt (with my permission) all over my body while I continued my gallop through skies above. I, feeling as if all had been created for my exclusive desire or perhaps by my deepest fantasies which up till that night had never taken form as I had truly wished them to. What sensations was this that I could sense every vein in this root so stiff to enter in to my very being, as my femininity simply could not get enough of it; almost as if it were trying to devour it while my behind pressed all of my weight in to it yet in all he was as if waiting for my moment to arrive.

For he was there on my behalf or so had I painted him in the work of art I had created in my dream; for he served me as I had been the one to take the initiative while he had waited and as I approached the instant of my triumph; I held on to him with nails that dug as I my tremor came as my body shook as if with fever. This also being the moment in which his moment arrived as if planed by my even further subconscious to coincide with my own. As our ending was of the most climatic nature in not only timing as we for the first time yet not last time that evening forced our lips in to each other’s, guided by tongues performing the most tender of kisses.

A story inspired by a dream told to me by my friend, the Argentine writer; Marcela Vanmak.

It was a day of the sun, one on which it shone like an immense ball of fire. So close that it appeared not as if somewhere in the vast regions of the cosmos yet towering above; as it often does in the masterpieces of great artists. All of which making the heat intense, as Giantuvis took his stroll down the sandy beaches, not far from the primitive yet strong hut; he dwelled in. Giantuvis, for his part made it a habit of hiking through the beaches every morning or at least on those days which did not require his services in his chosen field of labor; in his case being that of carpenter. This profession in fact that which he had inherited from his father and the one who had been likewise on to his own father.

Giantuvis, wondered about the beach and as he did, he felt the contentment of a hot day on his back as he walked about with his well developed upper torso to the rays of the bright ball of fire which he could see, all to imposingly in the sky. It being as if Apollo had blessed the day with an abundance of his bounty which he could feel all to well on his skin, giving him the sensation of going inside him; creating a lovely awareness. It being one which he ravished to its full delight on those days to combine for him both time to his leisure along with the beauty he witnessed on this day. It seeming as if he in fact was in the favor of the gods or as if they were pleased with humanity yet he being a man of simplicity; did not seek to question that which apparently had been decided upon by forces above his own.

Giantru continued his stroll on this day which had truly been blessed by all deities whose power it was to control such elements. As even the mighty Poseidon had calmed the waters of his oceans to create a portrait so serene that it made Giantuvis’s spirit elevate in the magnificence about him. As he continued his walk accompanied by none other than his most private intimate thoughts which his modesty would never allow him to share with any other than himself. It being fantasy to be included in his ideas that held sexuality and all the loveliness about the world about him to include the sensuality of many a lady.

All of which inspired by the landscape his eyes captured in to his emotions much like a painter does on to his canvas. This as he made his way along the shores of the sea. It being trees, generous in their rich green and abundant fruit along with sands of many colors that included white, gold and even pink to adorn his path. All as if having been created or passed on as a gift from the deities themselves to not exclude a sky, composed of crimson whilst the sea below was as green as the emerald, he had heard speak of but had yet to see. Giantuvis feeling mesmerized as he continued his walk, as if he were entering in to a world beyond his own which his adventures had never taken him to.

All as if he in fact had taken a different way than he had intended to, as it was truly as if he had passed some barrier which he was not intended to and found himself in a world within another world. Giantuvis gazing up at the sky and sensing it had changed from its usual to colors of scarlet, which made him take slight trepidation that perhaps his presence was an intrusion on to one of the deities, his creed had taught him should not only be cherished but equally feared; for their wrath at times could even surpass their generous nature.

Giantuvis, had been distracted by the glory about, so much so that he had not even contemplated if it was that of his world or that of another to belong to the deities. As such had been his astonishment yet it was at this point that he realized; this was not of the ordinary but of the divine. Fear perhaps was his, as it should have been yet there was something about everything that contrary to make him want to take flight; made him wish to continue.

Almost as if some interior voice within, perhaps it being passed to him by one of the deities willed him to continue forward, for this was an invitation where his presence was being required by those whom he would serve and by virtue of which render honor on to himself. Giantuvis continued yet it was not so much forward that his gaze went but all about, as this was a world like he had never witnessed with animals of all kinds to be found in tales exotic in nature along with what appeared to be compositions in a sky of many colors.

Giantuvis knew his way, as how could he not since this was a road through the beaches he had ventured on, so many times as to be able to draw every centimeter of it in his imagination, if such had been his will to include all its surroundings yet on this occasion; he did not recognize any of the landscape which he was used to. This however not adding to his fright, for in sensations which went beyond his own comprehension, he did not feel as if he had lost his way but quite to the contrary that he his path was secure as was the purpose even if he in all reality was most unaware of either though with certainty he was where his senses indicated to him that there he should be.

Chapter Two

A sense of adventure had taken over Giantuvis, where on another occasion fear might have impeded his advance in what was clearly a world beyond his own or perhaps it was a trap by the deities and it was his proud arrogance which did not allow him to see that wisdom would be that which beckoned him to escape a place in which he might be an intruder. It being these concepts which his mind digested as he continued his walk through the place which held so much beauty, as to make him doubt if this was the reality of the day or perhaps the visions of the night which he had still not been awaken from.

Giantuvis, continued his walk yet as he did there came a sensation about him as if he were being summoned to a place and though his ear detected neither sound of voice or music of instruments from it, there was a strong sensation in him; as if an impulse to guide his vision toward a spot which in reality was closer than his perception of distance had perceived. It being as if something had just appeared where before there was but a space of emptiness. As it was with wonder which went beyond curiosity’s ways that Giantuvis turned to a tree which seemed as if placed on the edge of a waterfall.

For a tree had appeared which seemed to be painted on the ends of the earth, as water cascaded all about yet this spot which was the ground of this tree was protected. As if one of the deities were casting a spell to keep this place for all those who would be permitted to enter. Giantruvis had envisioned so much on this morning that it was as if he had become accustomed to such sights that this came as another part of the world he seemed to have created in the canvas of his fantasies. It being as if he had stepped in to place which was being created by his own imagination as he walked through it.

It was a scene of beauty within a world of splendor yet his eyes had still to come in contact with that which his senses perceived of as bearing a gorgeousness beyond any to be compared in all his previous sightings. His eyes searched yet it was not exclusively with their assistance but that of his creed that he saw a bogina, who went beyond any woman of mortality he had seen in all that which had been his life before Hades. She being the female deity his instincts immediately instructed him was the one deemed controller of that which was lust and desire, as she was referred to with many a name yet most common to all was; Mar Vaglia, Bogina of lust.

Giantuvis, had come across much on that morning perhaps more than in what had been his life up till that moment yet very little if anything had prepared him for the vision of a bogina in his presence. As he was now in her presence to the extent that she was in his. Giantuvis being at that moment impacted by Mar Vaglia, who had presented herself to him in her form of nature. As opposed to the one she saved for the heavens, her appearance comprised of black hair to rival the sky at night when stars adorn it while her eyes seemed as jewels in their colors that made it almost impossible to distinguish one single shade let alone color. Mar Vaglia’s face was one like Giantuvis had never known or thought he ever would, as how can one explain in detail that which transcends so many emotions. It would be the equivalent of putting detail of word in to nature’s perfumes of delight or the sounds of symphony to make the spirit increase; such would it be to have to put one’s thoughts on to phrases with regards to the face of the bogina, Mar Vaglia.

The rest of her coming festooned with attires of the bogina she was, as she came with wears of green silk with a tone to be like the emerald which was about the oceans on that day. It being one which seemed to be transforming constantly yet held its tone to one of light mixture between that which could be hailed as green and blue while a belt of gold, like the sun’s rays captured the shape of her breasts which seemed to be formed to the delicacy of divinity itself while sandals of gold served to but adorn feet of beauty which did not need of such protections from the ground they but stroked; for a bogina did not touch the surface of mortals.

Giatuvis’s eyes could not but stare in admiration as the brunt of Mar Vaglia was one which was of such magnitude to cause sensations in him of wonder. As his sight went from sandals of gold to legs which ascended to behind, barely covered by emerald of dress which seemed not of such boldness to swathe this area of such sensuality and beauty that it seemed to Giantuvis that his eyes were feasting upon that which should be but reserved for those whose birth made them deities.

Mar Vaglia’s body was one which in all certainty was lovely to gaze upon. As if painted by those whose brushes of color described on canvas, all the beauty there was to be seen though at times; they created more with the eye of imagination than the one of reality. These being how Giantuvis had always perceived the deities that ruled his world as being in their unlimited power along with beauty to be eternal as well as unchallenged yet in all it was not only contours or colors or even the prettiness he could see with his eye that impressed him but there seemed to be an almost shine about Mar Vaglia. It being as if a glowing light about her which seemed to create her exquisiteness, to elevate it from that of a mortal woman with equal attributes. This light, like one which did not limit itself to increasing beauty but seemed to be protecting it from elements of a much more crude nature. As the wind or the touch of any not desired, as the flesh of humans or perhaps worse yet the element of time which above all was the one to send those of his kind to Hades while those like Mar Vaglia were but enhanced by it.

Chapter Three

Giantuvis was captivated as any mortal of his gender would be by Mar Vaglia’s appearance yet as he stood in front of her, she too gazed upon him, to find that which she had never seen in any of the deities upon mount Olympus. This being the lust, she had installed in men with all her might, which she could see in his eyes which once past their initial shock, gazed upon here with a stare which did not manage to hide what their owner felt. Lust being that which the deities themselves could not feel, for it was the one force which would signify their end as it required flesh of the kind possessed by humans. The kind which could feel not only its power but other forces such as the passing of time and the aging which deities did not suffer from yet in being resistant to that which eventually caused death in mortals; were also immune to many of the delights experienced by those whom they ruled over.

For Mar Vaglia, it was not a case of never having encountered one of her fellow deities in sexuality yet lust was not what they experienced or at least not in the form mortals did; who were consumed by it. For humans, it being to the point of making them, at times become insane with its effects while on diverse occasions; allowing them to experience delirium when consumed along its true ways. This in contrast to deities whose acts of sexuality were performed as most of their rituals which were done with the intent to demonstrate either the strength they possessed or merely to defy the boredom which at times could creep over mount Olympus when wars were not to be fought. Of course, there was Zeus yet his was like the rest of the deities, merely that of procreating with as many as struck his fancy while being able to proof to himself that he was one to outwit, his powerful wife; Hera.

Mar Vaglia, was the mistress of lust and though this was a power she controlled at will and could cast upon any she chose; she was unable to feel it herself, much in the way Zeus remained unaffected by the lighting bolts he hurled at his enemies which Zeus himself, never experienced. This being most fortunate for Zeus yet Mar Vaglia in contrast to Zeus, who did not have the least of desires to experience his own force, she wanted more then anything to receive a taste of that which she could muster toward others in such abundance yet always eluded her own sensations. This being that which she saw in the eyes of Giantuvis, whose gaze despite being laced with trepidation, did not exclude the want he felt for her which she had never known any of the deities whom she had engaged in acts of desire to bear. As theirs had been that of appreciating her beauty as something pleasant to stroke and to perhaps utilize in a manner of more intensity but little else; for the deities were elevated beyond that of wanting above all else.

Mar Vaglia looked at Giantuvis, suddenly as if made aware of his presence which made him feel more attentive, his eyes demonstrating emotions of disbelief as well as the wish to serve the one he considered to be above himself. Mar Vaglia was looking at a mortal man for the first time in a way that might allow her to see for herself what thoughts were held inside as well as the emotions. Mar Vaglia, seeing beyond the fear humans held for those whose power went immeasurably beyond their own. Giantuvis was a normal man in everyway, who was not even a demigod, as many she had heard tales of in Mount Olympus but a mere mortal without power of any kind which might have come from deities. All of which seeming apparent in his body which though pleasantly shaped to the eye of even those beholding of a superior force held no strength that might ever match any of the deities known to her.

Giantuvis, for his part looked at Mar Vaglia with something more than curiosity, for in all truth his fear had been replaced with the need to know why a deity had crossed his path. Was it in search of him or one who might suit a purpose yet did she mean to take his life? Was this her purpose? This he knew not though his mind was prepared shall this be what awaited him. It after all being the house of Hades which eventually would be awaiting for him which made this as fine a day as any for the purpose of encountering this inevitable end.

Giantuvis however held a boldness about him after the passing of a few seconds. As his fear had subsided totally in the acceptance that should this be his end, he would be made aware of this factor all too soon yet if it shall be glory in the form of a task than this would be beyond his expectations. Giantuvis waited for Mar Vaglia to speak yet she held her words slightly longer as she might gather with eyes that which she needed to know about the one whom she had summand on to her presence. Mar Vaglia, being a deity herself did not fear in the slightest the one she had brought in front of her in any way. As she was above any danger he might cast upon her yet she did not wish to harm him nor make him frightful that he might attempt to escape her. It not being a case that he might accomplish the act of fleeing yet she did not wish him to feel threatened in any way which might cause him freight but the delight she had chosen for herself.

Mar Vaglia looked on Giantuvis and as she demonstrated eyes of tenderness that he might associate with such an emotion, she spoke her first words to the one who seemed like he was indeed most attentive. “Do you possess a name which I might call you and if so might I become acquitted with it?” was what Mar Vaglia spoke in a voice which though not being demanding nor cold like that of the deities, was also not the kind of a mortal woman but like one who despite her words was in fact giving delicate commands. Giantuvis at that moment knew his task would be to give a reply or face the wrath of a deity yet his faith was one which gave much credit to his ears that they were not in error thinking they were hearing the voice of the lovely goddess; Mar Vaglia.

Giantuvis, was not one to take chances and at this point, it mattered not if this was but a trick of the mind or reality for in the case this was not the second then he would be made but to look the fool in front of any who might be about yet shall this be the first then peril; would be placed upon his life should he not render a worthy answer. “Giantuvis” is my name that I may be called by and will reply to yet Mar Vaglia, may dub me as she wishes and it will be my command to reply” was his answer which though not unassuming was within keeping to the respect and fear; he had always shown those whose task it was to rule the universe.

Mar Vaglia, in her gestures showed no changes that were visible as such was her interior. It too going unaltered as she was a deity and emotions were not those possessed by her kind save they be in taking vengeance upon those who had not known their place with those their wisdom should have instructed them to honor. Mar Vaglia, had made contact with the one whom she had been observing for sometime in which he had detected that she was a strong presence in his life. As he was one of the those who held her in the highest of esteems or at least such did he demonstrate by his prayers to her along with the statue of her which decorated his home to the point that he took great pride in showing it to those entering the place he called his own. Giantuvis, even getting the sensation that the figure in his home of the beauty of Mar Vaglia not only decorated his household but even held a power which through her would provide some sort of shelter for his home against all elements by they from nature or from the deities themselves.

Chapter Four

Mar Vaglia, now had the one she had sought after for so long yet had hesitated till certainty took over that he might be the one who would adore her beyond the worship which led most to merely dread deities, who with their power literally held the course of not only their lives but all which they were. Giantuvis awaited her biding, as one who was confident that he could serve a goddess yet not with the arrogance that he was above others because he had been chosen to do so but blessed that his humble being had been detected by a superior force.

Mar Vaglia, at this point focused all her attention on getting out the message she wished above all else would be interpreted not as a threat or a command but a request which Giantuvis would accept with the will of his desires and not the trepidation which many a mortal felt was owed a deity. How Mar Vaglia longed to feel that which she saw others ravish in which she could but hand out yet not take for herself. She feeling like the tree which though plentiful in the sweetness of the fruit it delivered was incapable of tasting it for itself.

“Giantuvis” she commenced with voice unchanged, to not take on emotions apart from the tone she presented on to Giantuvis which he did so ever hopeful that she might not be misunderstood. “I have summoned you here because for a long time, have I observed your devotion on to me and what I stand for and it is with intensions that you might deliver in return in flesh that which you have received from me but in force that I call upon you”. Giantuvis at this point was bewildered as he had failed to comprehend that which had been told to him, for it might be in arrogance that he might have understand that which his fantasies might have desired while ignoring another message. It being clear to Mar Vaglia, who held it among her talents to read in to the desires of men while feeling that which prompted them to act that the meaning of her request might have gone past this man of simplicity yet she awaited for a second longer that he might reply.

“I do not understand, what it is that thou commands of me, as I am still left with little understanding of that which I am to perform” were Giantuvis’s words which now more than ever showed fear as well as a longing to become aware of that which was being required of him. Mar Vaglia for her own had never dealt with mortals on such a level of closeness that they might actually hear her voice and that theirs might be audible to her with the secure knowledge that her ears were those which took note to that which they claimed; it being this factor which caused certain frustration in her which she did not fail to state. “Be thou of such daring to question a deity, specially the one thou claims to worship?” were Mar Vaglia’s words which though not stern in tone did make it clear that she was declaring who she was.

Giantuvis in all reality did not wish to anger, the deity of his worship yet it was with genuine disbelieve apart from lack of certainty at what he had heard that he replied “It is clear that I not only do not posses the daring to question a deity yet it is also such that even if my worshiping did not forbid me from doing so, it would be my mortal simplicity which would always prevent me from understand the reality which would be presented on to me in an answer if such would come towards me yet I ask not to question save that my understanding might me up to the task of at least knowing that which my goddess is requesting of me that I with what humble means are available to me might perform it to her satisfaction”. Mar Vaglia, sensed a certain wisdom in the one she had chosen for this task which normally would require one of her fellow deities yet felt it would be but a repetition of what had been without that which she was truly after.

“Your wisdom, is one of grandness as it is all too aware of thine limitations while not underestimating thine value and it is with the purpose of finding such a one as I see in thee that I have presented not only myself but my bidding” Marcela spoke with equal tranquility as before thou her inside raged for that which she sought after and as she paused she gazed upon Giantuvis; who had taken to the ways of he who was at ease or at least as much as might be a mere mortal with a power so much beyond his own. Giantuvis for his part awaited, as his mind had absorbed with understanding that which had been said. Mar Vaglia, continuing with voice unaltered in the hope of not giving away despair that hers was a need that went beyond endurance while at the same not sliding in to one which commanded. “I above all bid ye to pass on to my being with all thine flesh and desire the very lust I provide on to ye as well as others whose lot is that of mortality” were Mar Vaglia’s words which she could see apart from the emotions she detected had been understood as her intensions had willed yet insecurity was always to be had. This presenting a case of what to a deity might be merely that which should be, to a mortal it might be that which false hearing was tricking him in to.

“I hear and understand but I am not sure, if I am capable of such an act as to provide a deity with humble flesh of mortal that which she seeks and though I dare not question why she seeks this out in one such as I, for with certainty I say that such answers would be above my compression, I merely state that I be guided in to that which I am to perform yet if some license be granted on to me; I do wish to know if this which though seeks is not to be found in other deities?” were the words Giantuvis used to issue his reply and at the same time present a question which in no way did it assume yet presented logic which could be hailed as modest and further testimony to what had been stated; concerning his wisdom of being aware of his limitations.

“ I see thou has reservations and in doing so thou demonstrates prudence which is a good part in thine valor and it is to merit this in thee that I will reply with sincerity that we deities above do not experience lust and desire or at least not like mortals do, true ours do include acts of the same yet ours are not expressed in fashion like yours but to accomplish the formalities of reproducing in the light of broadening our powers yet never to make use of the lust which I deliver upon mortals of both genders” were Mar Vaglia’s words which in fact had taken a softer tone that did not go unnoticed by Giantuvis. Mar Vaglia, continued with the sensation that her words had been comprehended in a fashion to include all their subtleties, some of which had been but implied and in setting her eyes upon Giantuvis, she sensed some of the courage which had led him in his past to do battle in the name of the glory of the deities.

Chapter Five

Giantuvis, at this point was aware of what was his task which did not exclude sentiments of joy for himself yet in the uncertainty of fear, he was insecure as to how one should proceed to accomplish a task which no male mortal in the grandest of his knowledge had ever been asked to perform for a female deity. Giantuvis, for his part however was troubled at the thought that Mar Vaglia might perceive him as being daft should his queries concern that which should be all too clear yet if there was another hand, it was that she might see him as being arrogant if he were to assume beyond what was permissible.

Mar Vaglia however had other intensions in her which she wished to have satisfied for in all there was more than a curiosity to take from the source of her own bounty. As it would be her own lust which would be delivered on to her through this mere mortal, who would but serve as beast of burden yet in Mar Vaglia; there was a need to discover what her very being almost forbade her. This being the hunger for the knowledge of what it felt like to loose something.

It being this sense which in Mar Vaglia’s mind had come to symbolize true appreciation of the moments available to one and that which they provided. For was it not mortals who fiercely clung to every moment of their lives with extreme care and joy when ever it was allowed them; for theirs was not certainty of the future except that it would not last but a short while. Did this not make them much more joyous in their time of triumphs than the deities who had so many that they had come to regard them as that which should be while humans rejoiced all the more; given so few was granted on to them due to not only their limited powers but time of strength which nature had delivered on to them? How mortals adored those close to them was what she wished to experience, for in all sincerity; this was what she wanted above all else specially more than her own immortality. For deities were respected and feared yet hardly if ever were they held in the adoration of the kind, some mortals held for one another, even by each other who did not see a need for such sensations though she had come to see them as the essence of happiness. For did mortals not hold the advantage in loving one another over deities, as they in contrast to herself could loose those they had while deities could not.

Mortals, Mar Vaglia even pondered to herself as she lent thought to what she might say to instruct her devoted worshiper, were even capable in some cases of making the sacrifice of their very lives for those they held in high esteem. A characteristic most admirable as on some occasions they even did it willingly unlike the ones they performed for the deities which more often than it was not the case were forced. How it would be if a mortal were to deliver upon her with this sacrifice or in a greater sense, if she herself could do likewise for one; whom she felt merited something of the sort? Giantuvis, awaited his instructions and as he did, Mar Vaglia considered her words with the utmost care as she with body to tempt and eyes to inspire; softly uttered “I want you to feel the lust I pass on to thee as though has done so in the past on many an occasion when ye did seek a maiden in sexuality whom thou did take with all the might of thine desires. It is this which I seek thee to do on to me as thine imagination does not see me as deity but as woman of flesh, who ye has in thine intensions of delivering thine pleasure while she likewise provides thee her returns as would a harlot delivered with currency that she might perform a task of carnality.

Giantuvis had heard and with complete assurance that he had not misunderstood wanted and desired as he never had in what had been his life up till that point, for in all he was sure that this was the reality in front of him yet there was always doubt in his mind; as was bound to be the case with any mortal presented such an opportunity. This of course was natural in beings like himself, as they too as the deities held place in their thoughts for insecurity and though this was the goddess of his adoration and faith, it might turn out that she was but utilizing him for her mirth. For Mar Vaglia, might not speak in earnest yet in this which he dubbed caution he did not wish to waste what in fact might be a legitimate offering. As Orpheus had done when his doubt had cast his cherished Eurydice, back in the pit of darkness form which Hades had promised to realize her if he only held it in his faith not to look back to see if in all truth she was following him out of the domains of the house of death.

How absurd it would be if his would be to loose all the lust and desire of the one, who could make him a king in both matters of the flesh and what was material, merely due to a lack of faith and in all consideration what did he have to loose by putting his trust in the one who he prayed to while great would be the rewards should he simply trust. It was upon the strength of this logic that he gazed upon Mar Vaglia, with eyes that searched her as he would any other woman that he longed for though she held a place of affection, as none before and yet much to his surprise it held no connection to her being a deity but one who had but that which was of treasure to him.

Mar Vaglia, in seeing that which his eyes communicated passed on more of her forces to include desire to the lust and the longing which were her norm to deliver on to men yet it was with the knowledge that it would be used upon herself that she increased to surrender all her powers on to Giantuvis that he might entrust his root through her rose; as if driven by a bolt of Zeus himself.

Giantuvis, at this point was no longer master of his own will as the amount of lust inside him was to such an extent that it not only increased his strengths beyond what he would have ever considered possible but it reached an extreme that he could not have controlled it even if such had been his intensions. In fact such was it that it was of pain to devastate all in him if he did not release it upon or within one who could withstand with delight; all of the trusts of sexuality in him which at that point made him rival the god Volcano. It being with erupting energy that he attacked not only Mar Vaglia’s rose but all of her body with hands, tongue, mouth and above all his root which would not be held back by any force known to man or even deity.

Chapter Six

This was not a dream turned in to reality but a fantasy of carnality being lived by Giantuvis, as he made use of the goddess of lust and desire, Mar Vaglia to fulfill his every smutty illusion that spared no act regardless of weather it bore decency or not; for this was not of the topic. For Mar Vaglia and Giantuvis were of a mind to carry out all that had been in their inner being while their minds created other possibilities for their bodies to realize as his tongue and root did not spare Mar Vaglia’s rose or any other place where sensual arousal might be obtained; as he and she were implicated in what could be hailed as a war of sensuality. All as if in a struggle in which both would constantly emerge victorious in its numerous climatic points, where actions mimicked those of typhoons for intensity and the devastation they were taking upon their emotions.

Mar Vaglia, for her part had become as any mortal woman would in her sighs of ecstasy as this was the lust she had always longed to feel aimed at her as opposed to simply coming from her. She feeling penetrations in to her very being that went beyond the body she had presented herself on to Giantuvis and in to the foundations of the deity, she in fact was. A sensation it was of being ripped apart by the lighting bolts of Zeus yet the emotional drainage went beyond as she experienced even what the deities in Mount Olympus had not been able to deliver on her in their powerful yet calculating ways of copulating. She had given all her lust to Giantuvis who had taken it and was returning it in full, for his desire was inspired purely out of the need to return it to whom required it the most.

Mar Vaglia, in fact experiencing her own power to the point that slight hesitation went about her that she perhaps had yielded too much of what was hers yet it was with crazed ambition that her sexuality was being assaulted to her delight which would not be quenched regardless of how much she was made to groan. This as all the while she held on to the branch of a tree as if her very immortality were dangling from it. It being such a sensation that elevated all of her senses to points unknown as she lost contact of her own actions or words she uttered, in what at times seemed a dread that she might actually loose her existence and be cast in to oblivion yet this held little regard as she was involved in a war in which their would be only conquerors.

Giantuvis, had lost conscious of who he was as he took the goddess he had grown to adore as well as fear yet neither held him captive, as he delivered back the lust he had obtained, on to she who in his eyes was now his harlot. Her rose being but a portal to her paradise which his root entered at will as he gazed in to her eyes, to see despair as he unleashed all the fury of the forces, she herself had given him while he simply was her master; though the fact that she was a deity did increase his lust even beyond that which had been granted him. She was a bogina, to be feared and respected yet this did not matter; for she was his to do with as his sexual appetite dictated and nothing could be done nor did Mar Vaglia herself which it to end or be altered from what which had developed in to a titanic struggle.

The act had left Mar Vaglia, with all the fatigue she had ever known, as her mind had been set on a storm to rival any created by the deities while her body had lived through moments of intensity to be compared to the war raged so many years before, when Zeus and the rest of the deities had won their struggle to rid themselves of the Titans and thus rule the world. It also bearing similarity that she like on that day had triumphed and obtained that which she so much had been in need of. For she had been exposed to the all the lust of one man which she herself had filled him with and unlike in the past she got to enjoy and not merely watch as others did so.

Mar Vaglia stopped to gaze at Giantuvis, who did not utter a sound as he looked at her without the lust which had been so imposing before their act. It being this gaze in him which had been replaced by that which she had never seen before; to the point that it frightened her as nothing ever had. Giantuvis looked at her as she placed a hand on his face while still covered in their nudity. It being with eyes which stared at her as if inspired by the strongest light from Apollo’s sun. Giantuvis, touched her hand which covered his face and as their eyes locked, his in gestures louder than any words he might have uttered with tongue; claimed that he loved her. This in all truth that which was alien to her yet only at that moment did she sense what it was for the first and last time as Giantuvis slowly died from the effort of their lust. As his heart had failed the endurance placed upon it though if it were about emotions, his had been strongest while his hand articulated a farewell with love that might not die.

Mar Vaglia, for the first time was aware of loss and why humans adore that which is bound to be lost to them. She seeing that it was not that which could be explained but experienced for one to be fully aware of what it was. Mar Vaglia, had known not only lust but the adoration which mortals feel when they give as well as receive. Sadness weighed heavy as she looked upon Giantuvis’s dead body and though she was certain such emotions were never to return, she took certain joy that at least; once had she experience them. Giantuvis was dead, this there was no doubt yet her love for the one who had been so much to her would not leave and though deities would perform the same task; none would ever sacrifice as much for her even if it had been in their possibilities to do so.

This will be Gianni Truvianni’s last sexually motivated story, it dealing with the characters; H.R.H. Princess Karen Sue Cantrell of the Republic of Aquitaine and her fictional daughter Kasiutrella. Naturally, all of which also making this but a tale of fantasy, never to be taken for anything but that which has never seen the light of reality.

Chapter One

My name is Kasiutrella, daughter of an American aristocrat, if such one can be labeled; for my mother, Karen Sue Cantrell bears the title of H.R.H. of the Republic of Aquitaine. Regarding my mother, she in many ways is my best friend; as we get along almost to perfection, to the point of making many believe she is my much older sister or perhaps at times some might even get the impression we might be “lesbian lovers”. This however I say but in jest yet it is unknown to me what those observers make in their minds when they survey how close we are; specially on our outings to those places of so much interest to us; such as the opera or the golf club.

My mother for the most part is a woman; who in my opinion at least goes from one extreme to another, as she can at times appear to be very conservative, though when saying this I refer not necessarily toward politics but her views on life, overall as she at times seems not to want to accept what ours has become. It being two women, in love and still sharing intimate relationships with the same man; who at present is my husband and father to my only child, though it was my mother with whom he first took to the ways of sexuality.

It being the case that it was my mother who even arranged Pierre’s and mine first encounter, of the sort that explores the acts of carnality yet it is not ours to talk about how she in her almost secretive fashion still keeps up her relationship of the physical kind with my husband. It despite the fact that this which I have come to label a three party affair has been going on for sometime. I have even come to believe that it is her Midwestern American attitude toward sex in general that prevents her from being open about what she and my husband engage in, it being as if it were less acceptable to talk about what occurs than actually having it take place.

I, in all this must however declare that contrary to troubling me; Pierre’s and my mother’s romance, brings me a large degree of pleasure. It being the case; as I would not deny my mother, that which I obtain from Pierre, specially since it brings so much to her; who in fact has entered if ever so slightly in to what not so delicately could be classified as “old age”. I in my acceptance of hers and Pierre’s would even go to the extent of finding it immoral to ask my husband to deny her, as if it in a perhaps strange way were the equivalent of refusing him his rights to our child.

As for my mother and I, we have had what to many would seem like a very odd relationship to say the least and not only because we share the same love interest but because at times we have even encouraged it. I having asked my mother to accompany my husband on the many trips he takes when involved with a film, which I am sure has led to intimate situations between the two of them.

Chapter Two

As for my mother, there was a time which I will never forget, for contrary to the first which I only found out about till after she had planed it, this one I actually saw unfold in front of my eyes, which I am sure must have giving away their shock at the time. It occurring when I was deeply in to my first and last pregnancy or at least so far. I had gotten in to an argument with my husband. It being of the kind where one thing leads to another and rather than one of us backing down; as we should have or simply not going on, we continued to say that which we knew, even at the time to be inappropriate yet we followed through.

It leaving me in tears as I sat in the living room, wearing but my nightgown, while I considered what had been said by both of us which in all reality, I knew not to have been meant yet it was just the fact that it had been stated. It was my mother, Karen who then approached me and as she always had managed to sooth me with her words of comfort and the love we both shared for each other, yet it was when I told her I had had a quarrel with Pierre, that she called him over.

I for my part at that moment did not say anything as we waited for him to come, not really sure how she could solve the almost inane argument we had had; which I was sure, would require but an apology from both of us. My mother however held me tight, also wearing her nightgown, after having just taken a shower; as she seemed about ready to go to bed yet as we waited for my husband to come, who had announced he was on his way, I could feel her tender care for me. I, her daughter through the softness of her body. She still an attractive woman to most men, despite her being over the half century mark by more than a couple of years.

Pierre approached us, also dressed in his clothes for bed which in his case included but a pair of shorts. I feel it was the sight of me still in tears and being held but my mother that made him sorry for what he had said as he seemed about to claim his wrong doing, which would be followed by mine, for I truly as had he in this case had been at fault. It however happened just as he was about to say something that my mother, in a delicate yet authoritarian voice said “Pierre (looking at him softly who stood almost above us, who were sitting side by side on the sofa), Kasiutrella (looking at me, likewise) don’t say anything just make up for what you did to each other, and I will help you”.

It was with these words that my mother proceeded; as Pierre and I looked at each other not really knowing what to expect, other than my mother to make everything alright as she always had yet it was then that she was stunning in her actions even for what we already knew her to be. She embraced Pierre, who stood next to her, wrapping her arms around his legs, from her sitting position, and as she did he smiled at both of us; who looked upon his face, yet it was at that moment that my mother without warning started her deviltry.

My mother suddenly pulled down Pierre shorts and took his root in to her mouth, which had probably become slightly aroused by my mother’s warmth, as to a certain extent I had yet it was the site of seeing my mother perform this most intimate of acts upon the man who was my husband that sent mine way beyond moisture; as I came but within very little of having an orgasm of my own, without even being touched, in any way. It was however enough to send shivers down my spine, as I saw her take this part of Pierre in her mouth, letting it glide in and out with her saliva, as I knew it must have already yet the view of it was more than I could have ever imagined. It was incredible or so I perceived this act of beauty when performed by my mother, whom I could see was more than capable of arousing not only my husband but me as well.

I in all truth, along with my husband, who still did not utter a word; did not know how to interpret my mother’s actions, as she simply continued to orally assault this part of my husband, so much to both our likings, yet it was then that she again surprised us. As she now in a full commanding voice said to me, too afraid to refuse anything at that moment “Take of your clothes and get on your hands and knees on the sofa!”. This being exactly what I did as I looked at my husband, who could also see where my mother’s action were leading us to.

For my own it did not take me long to get out of the night gown I was wearing, exposing my advanced pregnant body to his sight, he seemingly taking on a new appreciation for what I considered to be my swollen state. It was once my body was in the position my mother had wanted, that she led Pierre by the hand to where he was in a pose to take me yet it would not be via the traditional route that she would guide his root but by the one which up till that point had remained un tampered by not only man but any form that did not include a suppository.

My mother, me now only catching glimpses of her as I looked behind, took my husband’s root in her mouth one last time, perhaps just to give it more lubrication, placing it in the position that was just right so it might make its way in this most secrete passage of mine. It in fact was pain that made me slightly even scream at first yet it was but the initial thrust. For once, Pierre with the help of my mother had performed it quickly and decisively, ours become but bliss or at least to me, as his own onslaught started of this part of me which he had once claimed to desire but had been held from by my un decidedness yet the matter had been solved by mother. She being the one to leave the room; feeling her presence was no longer required, once we were engaged in what is commonly known as the act of “sodomy”.

I could feel him all about me yet strangely enough despite it feeling near wonderful it did not bring me closer to orgasm. This being the case despite my moaning, in what after the first few strokes could not have been further from pain, as Pierre continued to penetrate me in a way he never had till then. It also being with the confidence that my consent had been given by my mother and my desire, which I let be known through the way my eyes smiled as I looked back at he, who seemed very much concentrated on not letting up on what he could see was much the source to my newly found joy. Pierre and I had made up and all was as should be yet it was bizarre and endearing at the same time; how my mother had arranged it all. Once again as we without saying even as much as one word of sorry had reconciled; as he made love to me, with not only his body but his emotions which I could sense wanted to tell me how much he regretted what his words had been as I did the same with my own.

Another fictional sexually motivated story between Karen Sue Cantrell and her daughter, Kasiutrella.

Chapter One

Karen Sue and Pierre had been near one another in sexuality and friendship for time considered long and joyous yet it was she who had started to worry. It being true that she had been able to arouse the interest of a man two decades her junior, yet it was her doubts which asked for how long? He all things taken in to account was a man known for never being too long with any one woman, as if he kept looking for something else or perhaps just became bored with whom he had. It was not so much that she doubted in her own beauty feminine charm as much as feeling he was one to prefer variety.

It was with trepidation of the kind that led her to a plan which almost horrified her at first that she could even conceive let alone decide on executing. It was all so simple, she had calculated every step; from the emotions of those involved, to how she figured they would react. For her it was but a matter of sufficient nerve to do what her mind dictated was in everybody’s best interest.

Karen’s intensions were to unite her daughter, Kasiutrella and her admirer; to attend what was bound to be her last performance as an opera singer. It would be even before Kasiutrella and Pierre would attend this her last performance that the plan was put in to motion. Karen taking Kasiutrella shopping, for all those attires a lady with sights on the opera was expected to don. All of which Karen; herself had cherished and associated with her womanhood did she pass on to Kasiutrella, in the shape of a long crimson ballroom gown for the occasion yet it would come in what was worn in privacy.

How Karen decorated her daughter that evening was what brought stimulus to her feminine vanity. It being Kasiutrella’s pale legs adorned by dangling white silks from garters; almost matching the sensual ivory flesh they lend fashion to. All to complete the portrait of the alluring lady she wished her daughter to be. Karen had looked over Kasiutrella, as she inspected her for what would be her night to remember even if her suspicion was not yet up to the task of foreseeing what her mother could.

The opera went by magnificently; after which Karen asked of Pierre to escort Kasiutrella out to dinner; which in reality had been planed for herself yet it was Karen who insisted her daughter take her place. Pierre she asked to comfort Kasiutrella, in these days still not far from her father’s demise. Kasiutrella had for her own been given a role in Karen’s scene which required her to simply turn amicable to one whose nature had been helpful to them for a long time.

Karen had gone to a dinner to which she was invited to with both Kasiutrella and Pierre. A feast it was in her honor, she being one who had renounced once and for all from the opera. Naturally, Karen went through all the steps of protocol when she informed her host neither Kasiutrella or Pierre would be present; her pretext one of charm; wishing it to be for those of the opera yet authentic reasons were far from this.

Karen however with her thoughts on Kasiutrella and Pierre did manage to leave the gala event held in her honor early, much to the protests of her friends and hostess; so she might be sure to greet Kasiutrella upon her return home with Pierre. Excited Karen felt as she awaited Kasiutrella’s return from what she had come to consider her first real date with a gentleman to take her out of all childhood fantasy and in to her own female reality.

Kasiutrella and Pierre arrived home late with the excess joy and influence of the night’s beverages that usually accompany those who have taken cloak in a nocturnal outing. Karen for her mother’s care could not but detect the evening’s effects on Kasiutrella, who she felt the need to scold for what she considered her inappropriate hour of arrival. It was rage which guided Karen as she opened the door for Kasiutrella and Pierre, she dressed in the white nightgown so much favored by Pierre.

Karen however despite her mean furry and jealousy of both Kasiutrella and Pierre waited for her moment to strike; for them to take seat on the sofa in the living room in which she had been waiting in attire more suited for a lover than anybody else. Kasiutrella and Pierre sitting down on the sofa as Karen looked at them with a certain amount of hatred in her eyes for what she more than certainly did not approve of.

“Young lady, do you think this is an appropriate time to come home and in this state of having drunk too much, I won’t even ask what you too have been up to but I will not have my daughter while she is living under my roof running around like a tramp till God knows what hours of the night and doing what ever she please with whom ever she pleases” were Karen’s words which she said with almost controlled fury; as her voice had not gone beyond her normal in volume yet held about it a tone which suggested she would use it to cause as much damage as she could to the one who was her daughter. Kasiutrella, in all reality had never expected her mother to react in this way, as she had been encouraged to go out and even have some champagne which she had not even had all that much of but perhaps given the fact that she had mixed it with drinks had produced a stronger effect than she would have hoped for. She was stunned at her mother’s words; as if she could not believe the circumstances that had come about; which even seem to take her out, ever slightly from the drunken state she was in.

Pierre at that moment did not know what to say or how to react as in all sincerity he treated such arguments as not being the kind he should get involved in; given they were between a mother and daughter yet it was on this occasion that he felt he should step in should Karen turn to violence against her own daughter. Of course there was also the factor in this particular case that to a certain extent this issue did perhaps in an indirect way concern him, since it had been he who had taken Kasiutrella out and even to some extent gotten her in trouble.

Karen was in full rage as she looked at her daughter with a touch of ever visible disdain and at her appearance which she felt portrayed a woman who had been involved in sexual activities in public places, given the way her dress had become almost wrinkled. “Mother what is wrong? Have I done something I should not have? You did say to go out with Pierre and have a good time or did you not?” Kasiutrella finally spoke; almost afraid that she had misunderstood what she had been asked or as if she for the first time in her whole life did not know the sort of person her mother in truth was.

Karen at that moment looked on with a triumphant gaze upon her, this being the last thing she wished to let on at that moment; for she could see the fear starting to mount in her daughter’s eye, as she did her utmost to hid what might not give the show of rage. “I told you to go out and have a good time; not be a slut and a drunken one at that and as for you, you pathetic gigolo I told you to show my daughter a good time and not try to seduce her or have you done it already perhaps in the car or did you have the class to take her in to the restroom at the restaurant or perhaps the disco; I can see you both went to?” Karen asked in a way all could see had been rhetorical yet Kasiutrella at this point felt worse than she ever had when talking to her mother. Her mother had never referred to her as such and all of a sudden she did feel like what she had been called, not because she in fact had but she started to despise the close she had been made to wear and even could see that theirs had been slightly flirtatious though in all truth it had been limited to dancing and a peck or two on each other’s mouth which she had even noticed her mother to do with some of her male and sometimes even girlfriends though perhaps it was not acceptable for her.

Kasiutrella, at that moment gave the appearance of one who would not be long in starting to cry; her eyes turning red as if tears would not be long in following. Karen even sadistically waiting for it while she also did not remove her stare of Pierre whom she could see was uncomfortable under the tense atmosphere she had created; her detecting he had not figured out how and when he should step in perhaps in the defense of the one who had been his escort for the evening.

It was then that Kasiutrella could no longer hold back the tears as they began to scream from her eyes, that Pierre intended to say something only to stopped by Karen who had been waiting for this precise instant to continue her onslaught of not only her daughter but Pierre, “She cries and you say nothing, I asked you two if you had slept together and this is the reply I get, well now it is all too clear to me” Karen spoke in a tone of almost malice yet always remembering not to go up to what could be a scream, as Karen had learnt through out the years that the best way to scold someone was to use a stern tone which did not have to be loud but cold in the way it accentuated each word.

Kasiutrella continued to cry as if not knowing what to say or do, as if she even expected her mother to throw her out of the house, given she already knew about the affair her mother and Pierre were having even before the death of her father yet had she wanted him too. It was for certain nothing but a few kisses had come from theirs however had her mother cause to believe she had made love to her boyfriend, for it was the appearance portrayed even if falsely. These thoughts were going on in Kasiutrella’s mind as she listened to her mother and Pierre argue about how nothing of the sort had happened between him and herself with Karen repeating she did not believe a word of it; while Pierre claimed she could ask the mutual friends they had to confirm what he was saying.

Kasiutrella however had come to develop a wisdom from her father which told her that at times like this it was wisest not to argue specially when alcohol had had its way and to wait till the morning when the logic of those involved would not be so hampered by the heat of the moment. Kasiutrella, would explain everything to her mother, knowing she would not expect her to do any less yet however it was seeing the condition she know found herself in with her dress in fact wrinkled beyond what looked acceptable and her stockings slightly torn that made her see that her appearance would not aide her cause that led Kasiutrella to realize that it be best she make herself scarce.

Tears had not yet subsided yet she figured their was more chance for her to get back her calm if she simply went of to her room and to bed; for all would seem clearer once she removed her dress and got in her bed where she had always managed to find some solace. “Good night” Kasiutrella said in a teary voice as she stood up in front of her mother who had not yet ceased to verbally assault Pierre; who seemed to be almost mocking her as if she were a woman who had been attacked by a lunacy of the most absurd kind which added to paranoid sensations.

Karen upon hearing her daughter say good night looked at Kasiutrella with even more rage which even she was not sure how she had been able to muster it and said “Yes, I want you to go to bed and get the fuck out of my sight, you make me sick to look at some drunken floozy” while standing up herself just in front of Kasiutrella, who seemed freighted. This in spite of her already being taller than her mother by several inches. Kasiutrella, at that moment felt insulted, more than anything that stretched even beyond being hurt. This being what Karen saw in her daughter’s eyes, who finally found it in her to look her mother directly. As if doubting her mother even meant what she had said yet Karen had made up her mind to impose fear on her daughter; which she would do at all cost. This leading to the ever quick and sudden slap she caught her daughter with in the face, who had never really been struck by either of her parents till that moment.

Karen had wanted to say something to her daughter but felt words had lost their edge which prompted her to take to a physical attack which even surprised her; who though did not show in her reaction even feared she would be hit back. Kasiutrella, already being in an age where her body was not of less strength than her own. Kasiutrella, however cried bitterly more from humiliation than pain as she ran off to her room.

Karen then looked at Pierre; after Kasiutrella had ran out of the room and much to his even greater shock with a completely different expression on her face; almost as if none of the bitterness which had transpired had taken place and it all had been but an illusion or figment of his imagination. Karen, truly at that moment seemed like a woman who was completely out of her mind as she almost smiled while walking over to Pierre, who was more confused than ever as he waited for Karen to let out some sort of explanation for what now seemed to have been but a pantomime.

Karen took a seat, next to him on the sofa seeming more like the lady he had known all through out what had been their relationship and started in a friendly tone “I’m sorry, I am not really angry at you or her but I just don’t want her to go out like that and get drunk, it does not look dignified for a young lady to come home like that and as for you; I know you did not try to seduce her and nothing went on between you two but I just want her too see what men will be like someday. I trust you to take care of her and I want you to be her friend, she needs one after the death of her father (it was at this point that Pierre was lost yet he did get the message that Karen had wanted to make a point about something which even she did not seem to sure of) specially a man”.

Karen at that moment took Pierre’s hand as she had done so many times before and started kissing him in the mouth; who went along more from not knowing what to really say or do, given he felt this had already been discussed. “Please also understand that I was jealous, perhaps it is stupid for a mother to be such about her daughter but you have to admit she is lovely and I can see the way you stare at her at times but I know you two will respect me enough to stay away from making love like we do” Karen spoke now as if attempting to seduce Pierre who still was not sure what to do though his attention toward sexuality was being aroused by not only her words but the way she was now almost lying on top of him who remained seated. Karen pressing her breast against his chest as if tempting his stroke upon those pink areas so familiar to his tongue.

Karen seeing Pierre was becoming more excited as her hand’s touch sensed from his root continued “Pierre can you do something for me?”, as if she already knew what she needed to; simply from what little theirs had been. Pierre feeling relieved after being convinced hers had been but an effect of humor and perhaps hormones of the age began to caress the one who many considered to be his lady of passions as he replied “Sure what do you want me to do?” almost with some guilt; as perhaps he had taken too many liberties with Kasiutrella.

Karen and Pierre continued their activities of sexual arousal, her having guided his hands to go inside her gown; to touch those areas of her which he could sense had taken on the moisture required for theirs to be; as they were near a lying position on the sofa for two. “I want you to go to Kasiutrella’s room and explain to her that you were not trying to seduce her but that you just want to be her friend like you want to be close to our family, explain to her the kind of relationship we have and that it is wrong for you and her to even think about anything of the sort. Tell her and make her feel that you will always be there for her, like her father was and that she can rely on you for anything she should ever hope for” Karen said while Pierre listened carefully as they held each other tight and looking in to each other’s eye.

“I will if you want me to but don’t you think you should talk to her too?” Pierre asked with some shyness; as if feeling he were taking on too much freedom by even suggesting. Karen then smiled in a way which even baffled Pierre, who could see a certain joy about her which he did not really see the cause of as she continued in the way of “I will talk to her tomorrow but I think it is important for you to go in to her bedroom (there was something almost sensual in the way she said this word) and explain to her tonight so she will not go to sleep believing you were looking to make love to her and she will know it was but a misunderstanding on her part; after all the death of her father was very hard on her”. Pierre could not see anything wrong with the argument he had been presented with other than the one he stated with some concern in his words “But don’t you think it is best if I speak to her tomorrow, considering how she feels now and that she is tired?”.

Karen in all truth had expected Pierre to respond as he did which made her reply “It will only be but a few minutes and tell her with all sincerity that she will always be special to you as I am; because you once said you would take care of me and Kasiutrella if my husband were no longer around”. Pierre at that moment did not really know what to say other than “ok” as he separated from Karen and walked off in the direction of Kasiutrella’s room. Pierre figuring that it would be but a few moments and some words of tenderness like he had once used upon a cousin of his who had gotten the wrong idea regarding the same.

Chapter Two

Pierre knocked on Kasiutrella’s bedroom door; hoping simply to explain what should be effortless, in the form of declaring that though he did like her very much and even think her a beautiful young lady he was involved with her mother; apart from not wanting to take advantage of her youth. Pierre even preparing the words he would say; which included explaining how it would not be long before she found another one who would make her even laugh at how she had at one point even considered him as a man for herself.

“Go, away mother, I don’t want to talk to you tonight; this can wait till tomorrow!” were the words he heard as he waited outside her door. Pierre at any other moment would have announced his presence and explained the reason for his wanting to see her yet there was something about the night and the way Karen had spoken to him along with her touch that made him simply open the room and enter to see Kasiutrella sitting at her desk sobbing. It was odd to him how women, even young ones like Kasiutrella had never failed to turn him on when ever he saw them with their eyes almost cried out and in a desperate state as she was; still in her dress with make up running down her check; as she turned around to where he now stood probably expecting to find her mother.

Kasiutrella having lost conscious of the position of her legs, had placed one foot on top of her chair; leaving her in a position that exposed the inside of her dress to him; who could see clearly that her were stockings. Pierre, as he approached Kasiutrella became excited by her legs, which seemed to add to her sexuality as well as her sadness which she could see so clearly in her red eyes which seemed to be gazing up at him almost like a homeless child. Pierre for a moment forgetting what he would say however his words were not the ones that would be heard as Kasiutrella simply cried out “I am sorry, I got you in trouble” as she placed her arms around the one who had come to consul her. Pierre feeling overwhelmed by the warmth of her body, contrary to feeling unaffordable took an air of wanting to protect her more with his embrace than the almost sermon he had prepared about how they should be only friends.

Kasiutrella, cried on Pierre’s shoulder as he knelt in front of her chair; clinging on to him as if one who simply needed somebody’s shoulder just to release all the emotion she had within. Pierre in all truth had not been too keen on explaining what Karen had asked of him, given he felt it was really something which had already been understand between himself and Kasiutrella. He having accepted to come to Kasiutrella’s room only because of her mother’s insistence, perhaps so Karen might feel better about herself; specially after what she had said and done yet it was as she held Kasiutrella in his arms, with her sobbing and looking in his eyes lovingly that he realized the speech he had prepared on his way to her room would only get in the way of the friendship they were feeling for each other.

Pierre; however for his part was still slightly aroused by what he and Karen had commenced and the sensation of Kasiutrella’s body so close to his own only helped to renew this in him as he held her who seemed so warm and lovable. She even kissing him on the check and slightly on the mouth as they had done that evening. Once with their tongues while dancing a slow number at the disco. Pierre once arrived at that moment would have simply said good night wishing her to sleep well had it been any other day under any other circumstances but it was then that it became perfectly clear what he as a man should do.

Pierre proceeded to pick up Kasiutrella in his arms, much like one does with an infant and carry her to bed; where their relationship would be decided in favor of what they had both wanted from the start. Kasiutrella had dreamed of this moment for a long time; being held by this man like she knew her mother was yet there was fear in her which made her shake as if with fever; for this would be her first time. The way to her bed in Pierre’s arms was not long yet it seemed eternal as her rose moistened from the strength he demonstrated not only in the way he carried her but the lust she could see in his eyes. Kasiutrella, had been aroused by the evening and to a large extent her mother’s action yet she needed to be reassured she would be handled the way she had always wanted to, which was in fact what she meant when she cried out still in her admirer’s arms “Please, don’t hurt me”. Pierre smiling warmly at these words as he responded “I love you Kasiutrella, like your mother; I’ll never hurt you, ever”, just before placing her on the bed with their second kiss; on that evening to involve both their tongues.

Kasiutrella had waited for this moment for so long; almost since childhood. It being then when she first had visual contact with the man, whose intensions were now all too clear that they would make love. Pierre kissed Kasiutrella, who had become perhaps due to what had occurred before; filled with the lust that takes all who experience it. Pierre however being the one of the two with the more experience led his hand down Kasiutrella’s dress to that spot on her breast he knew so well for all the delicate features it possessed.

There was even a slight moan from Kasiutrella; as her breast’s areoles were called to attention yet she was now a very young woman, who desired not to cover familiar ground but have theirs end where none other had ever delivered her. Kasiutrella feeling the need for Pierre’s root simply took matters to herself; knowing he was with her to guide. Kasiutrella lusted and was not about to have her virginity continue; making her almost to Pierre’s surprise spread her legs, allowing his body between them as she raised her dress, exposing to his eyes the white stockings she wore beneath.

Pierre was ready; his root had taken the form required to intrude itself inside Kasiutrella; them both feeling foreplay in further form would be but a disturbance. This given how the events of the evening concerning all the accusations and even violence had served this purpose; to the point of taking them to where theirs was at hand.

Kasiutrella with her legs apart felt Pierre’s presence about to penetrate her yet it was his hand that seemed to search for something between her legs; as she felt his stroke on the most intimate part of her sexuality. This being the part of her which like the fashion of the time was not covered by hair. Pierre looked at her with a smile; realizing she was not wearing this under garment (Karen had suggested she not wear any, given how their line would be visible through the dress’s light fabric) which would have definitely gotten in the way.

Kasiutrella’s smile of approval told Pierre that all was ready; for theirs which had almost been imposed on them by circumstances and it was then that in the most traditional of positions, Pierre thrust his root on to Kasiutrella’s rose, which up till then was unaware of such sensations. Kasiutrella felt a sharp pain as she had so often heard referred to by all her girlfriends; who had already engaged in their first full sexual encounter yet it was her being ready that lessened this unpleasant impact. It however was only this initial moment for once her rose had fully adopted, it did not take but a few strokes for theirs to become the actions of lovers accustomed not only to the act but each other. This being the case since their moves had become coordinated; Pierre holding Kasiutrella by the shoulders as his eyes looked in to hers in the same mode she had so often imagined they did at her mother.

Kasiutrella, now moaning loudly as Pierre made love to her like a full grown woman; who had wrapped her stocking covered legs around his waist; while her nails and teeth in desperate ecstasy carved in to the back of he who in all reality contrary to minding even took glee in how he had caused her to loose contact with her conscious being to act on instinct. Pierre even remembering and echoing Karen’s words “take care of me and Kasiutrella” in his head as he made love to Kasiutrella.

Kasiutrella had in all truth never thought of pleasing either one of her parents with the choice of the one to take her first in sexuality yet making love to her mother’s admirer was also not something she had ever figured on. It being strange to her how at such a time when her first orgasm approached; her mind would sway in such a direction. This was what she wanted; with the one she deeply desired yet had not had the courage to seek out even in her thoughts of awareness, for it had all been but that which she had denied herself.

Kasiutrella, however was now engaged in the ultimate act of sexuality between a man and a woman; as Pierre’s root was making its presence felt all through out her inner self. It sending sensations of flight in her like the ones she had heard about on so many occasions but had doubted that such be in truth. She groaned as her moment approached yet it was the shock that followed which she would never forget.

The moment was just as she would not only experience her first body trembling and spray of lust that Karen came in to her bedroom. Kasiutrella was stunned, having been caught in the act yet she could not bring to a halt that which had already been set to go forward even if she had wanted to.

Karen, seeing what her daughter and admirer were involved in simply looked lovingly at Kasiutrella with a hint of pride and worry. It much like a parent seeing her own child ride a bicycle for the first time; Kasiutrella could not stop yet did not need to for her mother’s eyes told her nothing would have been more inappropriate. Kasiutrella received courage from her mother’s gaze much like when she played tennis and it was what increased her audacity to accelerate her tempo to bring about a climax. Karen for her part making over to Kasiutrella, taking her hand as she and the man who had become their mutual admirer experienced their first orgasm in simultaneous fashion.

Kasiutrella at that moment felt the love of both; the man who would be father to her first child and the woman whose child she was. Pierre (still unaware of Karen’s being in the room) continued, having grown in affection for the young lady he had always seen as a child till then. Karen held her daughter’s hand as if guiding her; knowing what her body was going through and while she herself took spirit in how it was this what she planed all along. Pierre, Kasiutrella and herself would form a loving couple, composed of two women and a man; ever eager to please both his ladies.

Kasiutrella, in all this was also pleased; as her mother still held her hand, providing that ever required moral support like she so often had done through out her life. It was however as Pierre’s passion exploded in her that she appreciated her mother perhaps more than before; for they were friends of the truest nature.

Chapter Six

To Karen however this was not just another date with her devil’s toy as she would be using it for the first time after having made love with her husband, adding to her excitement as she opened the secret compartment. This being after having gone through the same routine which included; first removing what ever night gown she was wearing; her being one to prefer the act in total nudity, where perhaps stockings might be left on. To any who might observe her however in all this, it might seem odd what an elaborate ceremony hers really was as she would remove her night gown with the most delicacy and place it on her toilet. All with the care of even going to the fatigue of folding what ever she took off with as much heed as those which one purchased at a store.

Karen to a certain extent even gave the appearance of one who in fact was not alone almost as if she were with a lover who she wished to impress with her grace, though in fact she secretly dreamed of somebody seeing her in her fantasy world much like when she was a young girl who danced in front of her mirror in the hope of someday being able to do it front of more people in a party and not just in her bedroom.

On this occasion however she was more motivated than usual; as if some new blood had been brought to her by having just made love and this she felt as she removed her little lover from the blanket she kept him wrapped up in. This the blanket she placed on the floor so she might lie on as her lover, performed its battery operated magic on not only those areas within her body with the exception being her mouth but not her breasts. Those areoles she would expose to the swirling head of this instrument which even surpassed the sensation of any tongue, hers or that of another.

It in all truth was not a fantasy world she stepped in to but the past, which was decorated with so many gems executed by her and her husband; who at one point had been such a sexual volcano, that it was not to be believed how often and when it would erupt. How these images would come back so vividly of her and Thomas making love in the opera house, one day in their balcony, on that day when they were left alone. She on all fours in front of his chair; who stood up ever slightly as to perform the maneuver while those around in the next balcony which was but 5 yards away simply did not notice or what if they did? It would not have stopped Thomas from having his wife, who in her doggie like position to him had raised her behind so he might enter her. How motivated this made them, that they could perform such acts in public and leave care to the devil that they might be discovered.

Many were the sexual experiences which Karen relived with her magic toy however it was this one she cherished the most in the file that was her mind. Sometimes it being to the point that she enjoyed them more when reliving them in her mind than she had when they were occurring in real life. This perhaps being the case that it was after many years that she understood with her passion what it was that made them so special in the first place. They were not just individual experiences but a time in her life which was surely never to return as we can never make the past come back exactly as it was which makes it wise not even to attempt to do so; for it will never be precisely the same.

How that time was special, she could appreciate only then for when it was she was too occupied living those days; when it was advisable for her never to wear panties, specially when theirs was to go to a public place while always keeping her diaphragm in place as a second child was not what either wanted. How great it felt as she placed her devil’s toy inside her lustful rose, already moist for its entrance as she lay on her back, right in the center of her bathroom where she had placed the very same blanket she had been using since her encounters of this kind started.

Once started it was her past that took over her present, stronger than when it had been in impact; as it was with knowledge that it should live that she visualized it in her mind, in what was her act that included her devil’s toy; not being denied not only her rose but her rear entrance. Karen joking to herself that this part of her body would be faithful and only for her devil’s toy.

Chapter Seven

Thomas for his part was overly agitated that night and though entrance in to the black of night came easy given his physical effort it was also with facility that he woke up, not knowing where he was but with the instinct that pushed him to find his beloved Karen. It was with some despair that he turned over to feel with his arm her body; only to find he was the only one in their bed. It however was not the first time, he had known Karen not to be with him but this was an exceptional night in many ways, given he had made love to his wife. It making him more sensitive to all around, specially her absence which on any other night would have made him merely turn back to his sleeping position. It however was his added force and the fact that his ears; for the first time detected loud moaning, of the kind that gave no room for doubt that it must be lust which was causing it. This being like the smoke many believe to be an indication of fire.

Thomas, in a need that approached longing stood up and like a man hypnotized followed the noise to the source which was Karen’s bathroom and the light from under the door. The moaning grew louder as in fact she had forgotten herself, which led to her loosing calculation as to how strongly she released her voice, even in this house where it was hard to hear noises from other rooms. The fact was that she had induced herself to go beyond moaning or groaning of any kind, to what could be called light screams which woke Thomas completely out of his slumber; to fear as to what he might find when he opened the door which he would do so by force if needed. Could it really be that his wife had taken to what he considered the crude act of masturbation?

Thomas, now feeling fully awake stood in front of the door, in anger ready to kick down the door as it was now that he felt that not only had he been raped; as in fact he had not wanted to have sex with his wife in the way they had but that he had been used for inspiration for the crude act she was more than likely performing. Naturally there was a tinkle of excitement in him apart from need for certainty that lend itself to him placing his ear against the door, with the feeling of loss that there was no keyhole on that door that would allow him to see in.

The sounds were sex manufactured, this there was no doubt in his mind yet he was paralyzed in all his actions that so much wanted to put a stop to her activities, in a rage of jealousy; as if he were a husband who were being cheated on. His mind interpreted it as worse; for in a way he could not obtain similar results of ecstasy from his wife or at least not anymore and that night had made it all too clear in a very painful way that gone forever were those days in which he could bring cries of lust to his wife. Recalling him of when she had scratched and bite, almost like a cat wanting to get away from the danger it so much desired. He was no longer that man, in her life like he had once been and all her moans were as if cruelly mocking him or at least to his ear that those days when he could almost make her beg for a break from his pounding in her rose had ended. This was torture to the pride of one who had been hailed as one who at his age could satisfy even one who was so much younger than himself; it being all these illusions still held by him to be terminated at that moment.

This was humiliation, to himself like he had not known for the facts with his interruption where that his wife had forced him to make love to her and then had gone to masturbate; as if he could not bring her to orgasm, which in fact had been the case and she need to complete it on her own. It was with furry like he had never known that he opened the door which Karen had not even bothered to lock, like a man striking back at those who had been beating him.

It was not that he did not know what to expect but the sight of seeing Karen on her stomach with a vibrator in her hand which she was forcing in to her anus; almost caused him to have heart attack. How could it be to have come to this was something he could barely grasp; as if he felt a nightmare had taken over his visions which made him doubt the reports he was getting from his eyes.

Karen, in all truth was not less shocked that hers had been discovered though given how her plastic lover was entering her; it was but a few seconds till she started to confront not only her own shame but the anger of her husband, whom she could tell was infuriated, and though he had never struck her seemed about to.

Chapter Eight

In all truth Karen was frightened of her husband on that occasion much like whenever she was a child and got caught by her father doing something she had been told she should not. In a way it was odd as Karen was in better shape than her husband with fighting abilities that went beyond his, all of which giving her every advantage should it come to confrontation of force. This not excluding the fact that she also possessed greater physical strength, which she had already displayed that evening when she managed to pin her husband down to the bed, despite his efforts to get up which she had countered with superior power from her arms than his whole body.

It was despite these factors that Karen feared her husband, who caught her in this most compromising position which she could not explain as being other than what it was, for in her case it could truly be said had been caught red handed. The realization made her get to her feet and basically wait for her husband to react, to see what she should do and yet as she stood up she managed to stand in front of her husband like a believer standing in front of God for her castigation to a sin. Karen even shrugged her shoulders as she felt more humbled then than her life had allowed her to know till that point, standing there in the nude with all of her lovely body exposed yet her husband could only see the vibrator which she had put on top of the sink as if a burglar who puts down his gun in front of the police.

Thomas, seeing Karen’s fear and still angry took the vibrator without saying a word and smashed it with all his strength in to the bath tab as if it were the cause of all the evil in the world or at least in his marriage, for to him a man who like a child had been wiped this was the cause of his pains. This toy of the devil was evil personified in all its forms which he had just rid the world of and as he had breathed a sigh of relieve; his was the sensation almost like one who had saved his wife from a rapist, for to his mind it had been this instrument which had been forcing his wife and not the way it had been earnest.

This act of destruction in many ways had calmed him but not to the point that he felt his wife did not deserve a good lashing at for her almost acts of treasury to his manhood which had been made to suffer. Karen in a way felt hers, increase as the fear over the shame had slightly subsided and to a certain extent had turn in to anger; as this item was hers and though it was not one which held any emotional value it still had not been for her husband to destroy even if it was the cause of his jealousy.

Thomas, had calmed down to the point where only his strong disapproval remained yet in a way he was not able to control himself since anger was still with his tone, as he said “You fucking bitch! What the fuck you think you’re doing? No, don’t say anything first you practically well force me to have sex with you and then you masturbate, what am I not enough for you that you need those vibrators, well I don’t wanna hear about it anymore, you disgust me”.

Karen upon hearing his words realized in a strange way that she had nothing to be ashamed of as she calmly much to even her own shock took her nightgown off the floor and put it on as she said almost with nerve racking tempo of voice which perhaps even set her husband back to furry as she did not by any means sound as if hers was repent but quite the contrary. “I was masturbating with a vibrator, there I said it I am not ashamed of it and maybe no, I am proud of it, I wanted sexual satisfaction and I used a machine to do it, what have I done that is wrong”? Have I cheated on you with another man, this I have not (taking on an air of defiance), ok I accepted when I married you that you were older and would not be able to satisfy me past a certain age but what have I done for you to come in her and insult me apart from destroying what belongs to me?” Karen spoke with an air of boldness as if one who spoke with ice cold logic for she owned her husband as much of an apology as if he had been caught in the same act, for did this not only mean that she in that case would have been guilty of not being able to be a full wife, to fulfill her husband’s desires.

Thomas was more amazed now with his wife to the point of being afraid of her, she had not only managed to overcome the shame but had turned it in to her advantage, almost implying it was his fault, all of which led to his even further ill temper though this time, it was different. She was not repentant which was how a wife should be or at least such had he been taught, what was left for him? His wife had defied him. She was standing proudly in front of him that she had obtained sexual satisfaction from a source which did not include him and was not sorry, if anything was flaunting it in front of him, almost as if she expected him to do something about it.

Of course in a way there was nothing he could do, since his was not one fight for a woman, for her joy, for everything before him had told him it was a woman’s duty to wait for her male partner to be had and never be the one to take. All with the logic that should it not come she be the one to wait in patience and never ever go it alone or insist as she should wait till her husband felt it was the right time; which if never arrived upon she should accept her lot in life gracefully. This precise manner dictating she never take a lover or use one of plastic; for it was what changed the rules of nature.

Thomas was seeing something he hated but could not argue against since he was one who did not have the mental size that could go beyond what all his life had been told to him; not only by his parents but religion. This was what he had been taught, and had even come to accept blindly; never even thinking that perhaps other possibilities were to be had as how could there be? This was his limitation of being one who could not question what had been taught to him from infancy; limiting from seeing a new light which was that women also wanted sexual fantasy in their lives; which went beyond that of pleasing their male mates to wanting their own satisfaction, which in an unintentional way had been made all to obvious to him that he could no longer supply her with.

Thomas wanted to get at his wife but how could he? She did not feel shame so it was then that his humor got the better part of the control of his body as his wife stood near him, whom he smacked as hard as he could in the face as he walked away with the phrase “I feel sorry for you, and almost wish you could find a lover”. She had gotten what she deserved; this he was sure of and it was this precise slapping coupled with his words which would make her see the right way or at least so he thought as he walked out triumphantly back to his room. It being without saying another word to his wife, who perhaps could have blocked his hand had she had reason to suspect it was coming.

It was not so much the pain of the physical kind but that her husband had struck her for the first time that made her see what her move should be specially given that theirs would more than likely never be sex, as she could see that he was no longer able or even willing to. She saw a look about him that made her see that she was disgusting to him, as if she had been to bed with a group of men, who had not only had her but replied her service in kind with currency.

Chapter Nine

There are moments that make people change or perhaps not so much transform but bring out aspects of their personalities that were always there yet for reasons of circumstance of life were kept buried deep within. It could be believed that these emotions or strengths are in need of that element to make them come out to the surface and take over the personality of the one in question. This had been that precise element which had been inflicted upon Karen, as if this slap and words had brought her out of what ever had been about her that had not let her see what her life was becoming.

Karen had been slapped and as she stood in her bathroom with her gown on looking at the broken pieces of what was now her plastic toy, she came to the conclusion that this display by her husband’s was not her defeat but his. It had been he who had not been able to deal with her wanting what he could no longer provide not her, this was all so clear to her as she felt her cheek which had been battered and gazed at the broken pieces of her vibrator which she started to pick up and place on the sink. Arguments of logic had not come to mind as to persuade her to his way of reasoning, all of which requiring the brute force he no longer had as he had barely been able to break the vibrator in two let alone smash it in to the tiny pieces he would have probably desired.

Karen was not a new person, this was for sure yet in all she did sense a presence in her that had rarely in her life come out and that being the one that would not be apologizing to her husband like she once had for having to some degree been coquette with a business partner of his in a most innocent way. That part of Karen was to be kept submerged from now on; only present to be a reminder of what she should never allow herself to do. Her actions going to those that saw her almost cry and beg her husband to forgive her for having said more than a kind word to someone he did not like in conversation which though friendly did not include any sexual undertones of any kind.

Karen would continue with her life without saying she was sorry though changes would came from this and the first one to no longer share a bed with her husband. As what purpose would there be in that other than keeping up appearances for his sake; which no longer concerned her. She would move to her daughter’s room and take up that extra bed, she had had installed in for when ever her daughter had over night guest. As it would be this the indication to her husband that she did not need to share his bed, for she could sleep on her own. It would be a move that would not even come with an explanation; as she should simply take to sleeping in another bed.

Chapter Ten

Naturally in all this Kasiutrella was bound to ask why she and her mother would be sharing the same room together or moreover why she would no longer be sleeping with her father? Kasiutrella was in the stage of life known as puberty where it would not be just any answer to convince her, not that Karen really had to; as she could say that matter was none of her affair which in fact was what Karen herself felt, given this in fact was something only between her and her husband.

This would be a way to deal with Kasiutrella’s curiosity though not for long and perhaps not even such a good temporary solution since she might be staying in her room indefinitely or at least till she set up another room in the house for herself. Karen then came to the conclusion that the best way to solve this issue before it took on the proportions of a problem would be to tell Kasiutrella that she could not sleep next to her father; giving his loud snoring which in fact had been the case on some nights. Karen would argue that it had gone out of control to the point where it kept waking her up several times a night.

Karen of course could sleep on the couch or set up another room but in a way it was using this as an excuse to be nearer to her daughter, almost as if wanting to share in her youth which could be contagious on to her, for she would start feeling the spirit of earlier years even if almost by proxy through her own daughter. How it would be near Kasiutrella? To see her daughter rise every morning with the enthusiasm of a teenager who wants so much to discover and learn while making her way in the world was what she wanted to feel and though she knew full well she could not relive her teen years, not even through Kasiutrella; she could at least get nostalgic about them and perhaps bring back those sentiments.

It was decided, Karen would be sleeping in Kasiutrella’s bedroom in the spare bed, which in a way made her feel as if they were sister’s sharing the same room and to a certain extent why could it not have been as such given Thomas was in fact old enough to be father to both these ladies.

Regarding the vibrator, Karen for a brief moment considered mending it or even going out and getting a new one but as she looked at it and all it had done for her in the last years, with some memories being found she suddenly looked upon it as being redundant in her life. Almost like a child who suddenly realizes she has out grown a toy; for other forms of entertainment would be coming about, though this she knew not in what form they would do so. Karen however much to her own surprise and in some strange way no longer felt connected with her plastic lover, as if she knew someone or something that would take its place in the not so distant future but really did not connect it with anything or anybody in particular. Only with the idea that it had done its part to get her where she now stood. For time had come for her to bid it adio, given it had completed its purpose.

Karen once having gone to the kitchen where she put her vibrator to rest in the trash, walked upstairs to her daughter’s bedroom with a sense of laughter at herself, feeling in a way like she had when at a much earlier age she had been forced to burry her hamster whose numbered years had gone beyond what nature had intended it to last. Karen would have to sneak in to her daughter’s bedroom, for in all truth she was not in any mood to explain her choice of bed or at least not at that particular time of night or moment as she was heavy with longing to lay down and sleep.

Chapter Eleven

Kasiutrella for the most part was a light sleeper, so she would have to be quit as she snuck in to the spare bed in her room, for if she should awake then it might come to be that she might notice something yet in all this Karen was not shaken in any way. Tears had not been shed and her nerves were in no means altered beyond that of a person who would be sleeping in another bed from her husband.

Karen entered the room, silently and as she did there was just enough light from outside as to allow her to see where the extra bed was, not that she was so much in need of it since she had been in this room enough times to find anything her wish led her to. It even for a brief moment in her imagination struck her that some night, Kasiutrella would be sneaking in one of her boyfriends so they might engage in acts which she would prefer her not to see but that was for a later time, yet it did bring a thought to her mind that this time’s arrival would be inevitable.

Karen much to her own amusement as she tip toed across the large room which had been designated to her daughter, always in the hope of not tripping over anything remembered the time, so many decades ago when first boyfriend had come in to her room. All to the effect of introducing herself to the acts of sexuality, she had so often heard off yet had not experienced from the body of another. Karen even caught her mind reliving those moments and the excitement it was to get in to the bed with the one who she had chosen as he had her. All the thoughts which went through her mind were once again present as they had been on those several nights on which she and her first love, Tom Mulroney had coordinated their physical activities in her bed to the tune of her moaning as he let her feel his presence in so many ways as to cause her to loose control of her sounds that might at any minute bring in her parents. The thrill had been there in so many ideas that ranged from not only the fear of being caught but the youth of her firm body which her hands had not felt in so long, while her admirer though ten years older than herself; 16 at the time was not less lovely to the touch.

It was a time never to return to her yet she treasured those moments from her past; the images of which she played in her mind much like one doing the same with a film one has seen several times but cant seem to get enough of. Karen however in a way was back in those times and sensed would be doing so even deeper, regardless of the fact that it would never be the same, for it was like the apple which once eaten would never come back even if we ate another one. Nothing would ever make her react the same way again yet it would be a repetition in a way with her emotions interpreting in a diverse manner that which could be perhaps equally delightful, perhaps even more so than it had been originally given she would treasure its return even more because she was no longer the same. She after all was a full grown, mature woman who knew what it was she should appreciate and look for while herself at a younger age would have not seen what was of value in what she had. Kasiutrella, whom she saw in sleep, in a way represented herself at that age and it in a strange way seemed like she was seeing herself in her daughter; so many years before whom she now hoped to guide, not so much even like a daughter but the way she would have done with herself if she could but enter a time machine and go back to those days. This however being the case for by being with her daughter and sharing this time it was as if she were advising herself at that age with the experience the last 2 score had brought her.

Karen was tired yet it was not so much physical or even being sleepy but the kind of mental fatigue which indicated it would be best not to do other than put one self out for the night, till the light of morrow brought all back to some focus and peace. It being these two which would be most needed to solved the situation which had arisen in her marriage though in reality, it had not been what could be described as a large quarrel, even if it would be likely she would no longer be sharing a bed with her husband or at least not any time soon.

Chapter Twelve

Karen had managed to get in bed apparently without waking up her daughter from the sleep she would need for the activities of the following day, getting under the cover which given the time of year was limited to a sheet and the cover on the bed which she did not remove. Karen was now in bed awaiting for that moment which would transport her mind in to the other world of not being aware of what went around her or at least till the time arrived to go about the business of life. How nice it would feel to be away as she referred to it, from what had taken place, at least so her mind might focus without the stress of the moment that had seen her last fragment of sexual contact disappear along with the tranquility her marriage had known for so long.

Karen now lay in bed, and as she did she could ravish in the feel of the smoothness to be encountered in the sheet’s comfort which they brought to her skin; so much in need of what be soothing, this would be like a balms to put her body as well as mind to rest, as she lay in bed not far from what was sure to be slumber. Karen, was also relieved she had not taken Kasiutrella out of the protective other side, of not being aware of what transpired and as she lay in bed she felt as if she had gotten away with her plan of stealth. It was if transported back in time to when hers were the ones of the naughty daughter deceiving her mother. This being the case though the roles had been changed by time where it was her who had become the parent, whilst her daughter had taken on the persona she had been so many decades ago, though for brief spurs it was if she were a sister.

The night would have come to an end then as Karen lay in bed falling deeper in to the next phase of rest. All much like the curtain bringing an end to an act in a play yet it was not to be on that night as Kasiutrella with a tone of voice that was loud; not so much in it’s volume but alarm shook Karen out of the daze she was already half way in to.

Chapter Thirteen

“Mother are you alright? Did father hit you? I heard a noise, is everything ok? I was about to call the police!” Kasiutrella spoke, not as a frightened child as she might have expected or one who had been taken out of a sudden sleep but as one who had been biding her time. As if she knew all along not only what needed to be said but at what point it would be wisest to do so. To Karen at that moment it even gave the impression that she was back in her teens returning home from a date which had perhaps not gone all that well to the questions of her mother who showed restrain in her worry which she demonstrated in her well chosen questions.

It was not so much that Karen felt an obligation to reply, as when she had been living under her mother’s roof but there was something of almost authority in her daughter’s voice which to some degree freighted her as much as what had happened. Kasiutrella, was not being demanding in any way in her tone but there was a logic about her that made her feel almost as if hers would be unreasonable not to answer. Karen at that moment sensing that her daughter had grown in a mental way that on many accounts put her on a par, as if sisters they were.

“Kasiutrella” Karen started trying to sound calm as both lay in the dark still, neither having visual contact which each other as both still lay under the covers with the light off, which in a way made theirs feel like a conversation on the net. “You’re father and I just had an argument, that is all and he smashed something that is all” Karen spoke trying to let out as little detail as possible that would calm her daughter’s longing for knowledge while not declaring more than she was ready to.

Kasiutrella then much to Karen’s surprise got out from under her sheets and turned on the light as she sat up on her bed, this in an attempt to see what appearance her mother gave and said “I heard somebody get slapped, so just I wanna know if it was you or him?” with a tone that took on stern parts. Karen perhaps on another night with more harshness left in her would have ruled this as not being her daughter’s concern which she would have made all too clear in her reply however it being not a night of sorts simply replied “That is not for you to worry about, yes somebody got slapped but we are both ok, as that is all it was and if you want to see, that I am fine here (sitting up, so Kasiutrella could see her face was alright though a mark was not visible) see for yourself.

Kasiutrella, had not really lied as she had not said who had been slapped but however was worried a bruise would give the appearance that hers was worse than it really had been, and as she sat up on the bed waiting for her daughter to pass on her mind’s thought, she more than ever felt as if she were justifying herself to her daughter; who at any minute she could order to desist. This perhaps what a few years sooner she would have resorted to yet it was as if a new day in their relationship; which would make it almost inappropriate for her to treat her daughter as a child, whose care was of insignificance.

Karen once satisfied, her daughter had not seen anything out of place on her face, though this she knew not from her own eyes, as she could not see herself but through the reaction of her daughter who demonstrated not that she had been battered, took on a calm which allowed her to retort. “See, I am fine and your father is fine, so please forget about who hit who since apparently everything is ok” were Karen word’s as if trying to put the whole issue behind them without having to go in to more details which would have led to more queries from her daughter, who at times became as if bolder in her questioning of her mother.

Kasiutrella seemed calmed by the sight of her mother neither being bruised or in tears, much to the relaxation of Karen, who if all reality be laid upon view would have proffered for this discussion not to take place and to give an explanation that it had been her father’s snoring which had led to her taking up the bed in her room. It was in a way with some disappointment that Karen faced her daughter for it would have been so much easier if Kasiutrella had not wondered out of her slumber, which to a large extent put out of commission her plan to say that theirs would be but a solution to being uncomfortable or unable to sleep next to her father who in fact did snore.

Kasiutrella, at that moment changed her mood, almost as if taking on another line in this argument or tactics; in this what to a certain degree had become a battle for the truth between herself and her mother. Kasiutrella could see hers would not be to get more replies as to what had transpired other than what had clearly been a fight, which had led to something smashed and someone hit; though this she would not be told whom other than both participants were for the most part unharmed. It also being that she could see the point that it was not a factor what had been since consequences were not of major concern but what would be because of it that Kasiutrella asked “Ok, you and dad had a fight but it is not the first time but why have you chosen to come and sleep in my room and how long will you be staying?” with not so much of the desire that her mother leave or not stay with her long as much as concern that what had been would have consequences beyond the usually married couple quarrel.

Karen could see as her eyes adopted to the light that Kasiutrella was fully awake and theirs had become a discussion, which she could no longer put off with simple answers or vague statements, the kind she would have given her daughter many years before. She could also tell that her daughter was not in the least upset at the prospective of sharing a room with her for the night or any amount of time but in fact needed to know what would be of her parent’s marriage which she could tell had definitely been shaking, or such this action by her mother indicated. This being more so since to the best of her knowing her parents had never slept in different beds or at least not on any night which they spend in the same house.

Karen could see her daughter’s concern and to a large extent even appreciated her in the admiration she had gained for her that night as her daughter had taken on a perhaps not new maturity but degree of care which she in reality never supposed her to have yet in all she was tired and wished to end theirs or at least till the following day. Karen seeing theirs might become a long drawn out affair and not wishing to end it rudely simply said “Your father and I have chosen or one of us has though don’t ask me which one to spend a few nights perhaps away from each other to give each other some breathing space and see what happens, I am grateful you care but there is not more I can tell you as right now I don’t know more to tell you myself about what will be”.

Kasiutrella understood theirs to be something of a feud yet there was that which she could not place or have any understanding for at that age not so much due to her lack of this facility in her mind but experience in what couples past a certain age go through specially when sex is no longer carried out in bed. In fact she was satisfied she had done what she could for her mother and seeing no more conclusions to be reached for the evening she simply said “Well stay as long as you want and I am glad to have you here, thanks for staying with me and not going down to the sofa” with a twist of irony in her voice. Karen for the first time that evening was able to see some humor in all her and her daughter discussed and though she realized she would have to confirm more in her daughter than she perhaps was ready to; felt at peace with at least her choice to have come to Kasiutrella’s room, whom she had clearly taken out of the stride of what other wise would have been her time of rest.

It then feeling again as if this was her daughter, whom she would need to protect which prompted her to get out of her bed; to make sure her daughter was tucked away, as it had once been her duty to do so. Karen stood up and as she did she could see her daughter’s eyes; who had already layed back in bed looking at her as if wanting to reassure her all was as it should. Karen however for her own saw in Kasiutrella at that moment the one whom she should see off to sleep in spite of all she knew her to be capable of in her reason of caring back for her mother, who did likewise. Karen had a smile about her as she went over to kiss her daughter good night that even took to Kasiutrella; who replied with her eyes of warmth which strangely enough Karen could see with great power not only to pass on warmth, as she was doing at present but impress upon many a man, both young and even not so.

Karen would tuck her daughter in bed, and place a kiss on her forehead to let her see that she too like Kasiutrella needed the protection which she had tried to provide her that night by inquiring in to what had been. Kasiutrella, that night saw her mother in a new light as one who did not have the answers to all that was but at least did not fear to let it out that such it was and she approached her bed with intensions clear it was her to surprise her mother. This coming in the form of opening the bed sheets for her mother to get in with her so they might share the sort of intimacy they once had, so many years before.

Karen perhaps on another night would have simply kissed her daughter good night and walked away with a smirk at her intensions but it was one time when she felt the need for somebody, who could hold her if only for the purpose of passing on that care that can only be obtained through that contact which women are so capable of passing on. Karen could see her daughter was about to say that perhaps on this night it would be nice to share a bed yet before her words could come about Karen much to her own surprise got in bed with her daughter; who simply refrained from commenting as she moved over.

Karen got in bed with her daughter as she had done on many a night in the past, when her daughter had asked her to sleep with her usually after a nightmare or bad experience which Kasiutrella had had. It in many ways felt different since this time it was Karen who had gone through one of those moments that needed attention though in fact it was of so little concern; for in what had become their relationship it was almost the one who consoled who required the other with the same intensity. Karen could see her daughter reaching out, as if needing to make it clear that she could rely on her just as she had once been able to and still did so much on her mother, who at that moment to a certain extent felt like a child getting in to bed with her own mother.

That night Karen and Kasiutrella slept almost in each other’s arms; as if both reassuring the other that come what might or go down what should, if one thing be a permanent fixture as the star to the north it be their love for the other as mother and daughter. This above all for stronger bond was not to be had. It being the case though this would be put to a test in a way neither would have ever thought possible at the time.

A fictional story about Princess Karen Sue Cantrell of the Republic of Aquitaine and her desperate search for that which she has so long been without yet finds comfort in a newly formed relationship with her daughter, Kasiutrella.

Chapter One

Her full name was Karen Sue Cantrell, who in many ways represented the typical white Anglo Saxon protestant, brought up on the ideas of America and all its values which for better or for worse had been installed in her since childhood. This given her upper middle class family which through good acquaintances and savvy business deals had managed to get well connected or at least close enough to those who could change the course of her life. This being exactly what transpired in her case when her father introduced her to the man who would become her whole life, as he would go on to not only take her to wife but deliver on to her the only daughter she would ever bring in to the world. In many ways perhaps the method in which she was courted by the man whom she would marry was unnatural to say the least as she was introduced to him when her numbered years already went over the double score by two, with the intent that theirs should end in a marriage of convenience.

Karen for her part regarding this perhaps forced arrangement, was never either particularly please or displeased about it for that matter, as she had come to regard such affairs as perfectly natural. This to the point of explaining it to others as well as herself that it was just another way for a couple to meet and where some did it through circumstances of fate or coincidence depending on the point of view or mutual friends she and Thomas II Grand Duke of Aquitaine had done it via her father. Of course with the ever present factor that theirs had been preplanned to end in a marriage that would end in her delivering a child on to this man, whose age at the time of their first encounter surpassed hers by 3 decades.

This above all was where many argued the morality or perhaps lack of which in this what could be classified as a transaction making Karen Sue, almost like a bargaining chip for her father to get what he sought for his family, this the wealth, connections and title of a man who was living in exile from his native Republic of Aquitaine. As for Thomas, himself it was the freedom, to come and go from the United States as well as do business that his citizenship obtained by marriage to Karen Sue granted him along with a beautiful woman. She being willing to bare him a child despite her already advanced age for doing so. This being perhaps above all what he received from that which in fact to a large extent was a business transaction.

Karen Sue Cantrell or “Karrie” as she was known to her friends, however in all this can not be said to have been left out of the benefits of the deal as she who basically had never had much in the way of ambition all of sudden took on the title of H.R.H. of the republic of Aquitaine. This accompanied by a husband who though not charming beyond his wealth and looks did leave her freedom to spend money without worries and a chance to develop in her chosen profession of opera singer, this despite her lack of outstanding talent which never allowed her in spite her connections to rise beyond one of many opera singers.

Regarding looks, she was one whom most would label as attractive in a very plain sort of middle American way, given she had no features which could really be regarded as unattractive though none outstanding which would have made her a notable beauty, given her blue eyes and the rest of her was merely nice to look at without being extraordinary in anyway. In her physique which was short and thin however there was one thing that did stick out in the mind of most and this being her breasts which were of such a size that even allowed her to touch their most sensitive area with her own tongue. This a trick her first love interest asked her to perform, which in all truth at first even disgusted her slightly, till she could see how it excited not only those she wished to have in a sexual way but even herself.

Princess Karen’s and Grand Duke Thomas’s II, was a marriage planed for business, this being a fact which they never argued though it would not have been correct for any to make the assumption; care and perhaps even love never was theirs, as they did at least at the start of their marriage share several years of tenderness. It being in those years in which they did deliver on to this world a daughter, who took from them all the beauty, as this child whom they would christen “Kasiutrella” (this the title of a poem which was one of Princess Karen’s favorite) held all the lovely features of her father while having the radiance of her mother, who though possessor of average looks held about her a certain sparkle which many detected in her daughter that lent even more to those extraordinary details of her looks, mostly derived from her father.

In all honesty it can be said that the first 13 years of their marriage where like any other, as Princess Karen Sue Cantrell and her husband Grand Duke Thomas did the things most married couples did, such as enjoy a life together which included a healthy sex life apart from the quarrels and other parts that made a marriage be just that. It in many ways was hard to say weather theirs was a happy one or not but theirs was a normal marriage, which always lived with the shadow of why they had come to be in the first place.

Regarding their daughter; Kasiutrella, she had grown in to a most beautiful young lady who many mistook for being much more advanced in age to the point of her mother having to constantly tell her male friends that her daughter had barely entered her teens. This in part due to how she had inherited her father’s tendency to be tall along with her mother’s over grown breast which many tended to stare at to the extent of making Kasiutrella blush while making her mother slightly jealous, that hers though still nice were no longer as firm as she could see her daughter’s were becoming.

Kasiutrella, in reality was a vision of teenage beauty barely out of infancy about to turn in to a woman, and this few failed to pick up on as her hair which went down to her waist was golden as her mother’s, while her height was 180 cm. This making her just 6 cm shorter than her father, accompanied by a face that in fact many could say was an identical female copy of her fathers, who in fact was considered by many to very handsome even if his dry personality was a turn off to not only most women but generally most people. Kasiutrella in many ways was a copy of her father but it would be far from the truth to say she was also not one of her mother’s as well. This being the case since she had gained a figure similar to her mother’s that included not only her overly large breasts but the physical grace that allowed her to perform feats of athleticism which many even considered not possible for a girl, not only of her age but of any. These feats being the way she was able to play tennis, almost like a top professional along with having more strength than even most of the boys in her school, all of which leading her mother to consider getting her a trainer, who hopefully would guide her to one of the top places in the world of tennis.

As for Karen and Thomas, they at this point which is also the start of our story had been married for over 15 years, and like those who had been married for such a length of time had come to the point where sexual contact was no longer what was of the utmost importance, specially since Thomas had gone past the sixty mark. This being one of the factors that led to the decline in the frequency of their sex though not the only one, as Thomas in all reality had never been one to be overly active when it came to amorous activities. Karen for her part was still in an age when her body required such attentions but had come to settle with the fact that her husband would rarely, if ever be making the kind of incursions in to her intimacy as the one that had already brought about her first and only child.

As for other aspects regarding what concerns the marriage of Princess Karen and her husband, the grand duke Thomas, they despite their titles are not really what could be hailed as overly affluent, with the truth being that neither inherited either a great deal of money or even the ability to make it. Their business which they run as a couple being several clothing stores which for the most part concentrated on selling golf equipment and other sporting wear, that predominantly were expensive but sold relatively well given the reputation for quality products they had developed through out the years.

Chapter Two

It is this moment that our story picks up as we see a couple getting ready to go down to dinner in their LA home, which they share with their only daughter. Theirs is what most would consider a nice and comfortable home though not really luxurious by any means yet in a way it has that elegance which lets one see that this is a couple who does posses a certain class that places them slightly above those around them.

We see Karen sitting in front of a mirror and table, brushing her long blonde hair which given her age and desire to look dignified she now a days keeps only to her shoulders. Karen on this occasion is wearing something simple which includes a pair of black cotton pants, along with a white Polo shirt, making her tanned upper body more apparent.

It is as Karen fixes her hair, that we see her husband Thomas put on a dark blue summer jacket which he intends to wear with a white shirt and a pair of light brown pants, this being his favorite way of dressing on days that like this one are hot but not overly though theirs is an air-conditioned home. Karen for her part has been meaning to tell her husband about her plans to find, Kasiutrella a manager to take care of the tennis career she is planning for her daughter.

Karen, once feeling her hair is exactly the way she wanted to present it on to others, turns around and says in an almost completely unemotional tone “I’ve been thinking of finding someone to guide, Kasiutrella’s career perhaps a manager, what do you think darling?”. Thomas felt his wife would be asking him a question of sorts as she during the last few weeks had been hitting, in no unclear way for their daughter to turn professional, so it was with no surprise that his wife’s question impacted on him, who still was not sure a professional tennis career was the right thing for their daughter, at such an age though he was aware that if she was going to be a professional tennis player the time definitely was at hand.

“I know you have been wanting for Kasiutrella, to become professional a long time but are you sure it is what she wants?” was Thomas’s reply which he really did feel was important to be answered, for he in all truth did not want his wife’s ambitions to be what mattered but his daughter’s, specially since they were talking about her future. “You have seen her play and her coach says she shows as much promise as any of those other girls he has seen play” Karen replied looking at her husband whom she could see was finished adjusting his jacket and putting on his eau de toilet. “You know very well, that I am not talking about her ability but her willingness to play the game like a professional”, Thomas replied with some sarcasm and frustration.

Karen then looking up seeing her husband slightly annoyed simply smiled as she had done so many times before as she in all reality know what her husband had meant but felt it was not something they could discuss without Kasiutrella, herself who in all fact had never really stated one way or the other weather or not she wanted to turn professional. “I know what you meant but this we have to talk over with her, don’t you think?” Karen spoke in words of softness as she leaned over and touched her husbands hand, who stood behind her.

Karen for her part was not one who could be called a brilliant woman in any regards; as she did have certain charm though in the eyes of the more sophisticated hers was perhaps overly mid western American in it’s simplicity even if she never pretended to be what she was not by putting on intellectual airs. Concerning, the work she did this was an area where she also knew her limitations of not being overly creative yet she did compensate with her enthusiasm and hard work combined with discipline and modesty that let her see when the ideas of others were more suited. It was however in all this that she was one who one should not underestimate; given how she could be very convincing in her simplicity which in many ways could be taken for sincerity. All of which lending itself to creating her to be a mild success; as both the opera singer (semi retired) and part business owner she was.

Sexually speaking, she in many ways was one who had been raised on the notion that it was but a part of a marriage though not the most important by any means, which in reality was the concept that a married couple not only could but should go on even if sex could not be. Regarding her case, it was not so much that sex was a problem because she was one who could manage to get by without it as she had done for so long, perhaps she to a certain extent had lost interest or had been so involved in the relationship with her husband and work that she had almost forgotten about this part of life. Of course there was the possibility that she was just waiting, even if unknown to her for that one man to spark her up again, like her first lover had done so many years ago when her age was similar to her daughter’s, specially since she was still a woman whose body was still capable of drawing attention, given the figure she still kept via working out everyday and practicing such sports as kickboxing and weightlifting.

Karen Sue Cantrell was desirable to others; this there was little doubt in her mind and though she felt flattered by the attention she was almost certain it would only come from afar, as all were aware she was married and faithful to her husband. It was even strange to her how she could be playful with those around her, in the form of saying how she loved them and would send them kisses. She being almost like a child who knows not what it could arouse in somebody who desired her for her literal meaning instead of the almost coquette one she wished to present of the friendly housewife.

Karen and her husband in all that was theirs had not been completely deprived of a sex life, in spite of Thomas being nearly 80 years of age as Karen in her playful ways was one to keep up his interest in the act as much as she could. This being the case when she would stroke his root under the table sometimes discretely in front of guest who had never managed to catch on to what Karen was up to. Of course Karen still being a woman capable of lust, at times went further in her attempts to arouse her husband that even lend wind to the sails of his vanity such as when she from time to time would awake him with a kiss on his male pride, though she in all truth was to shy to take it all in to her mouth. Intercourse in the traditional way had not been theirs in over ten years yet despite this Karen did manage to keep up certain thrill in their lives with regards to this as she would often bend over so her husband’s root could be what she felt through her clothes or sometimes when her bottom was bare. It would even amused her how her husband would in bed take to her breast almost as if he were back in infancy; doing likewise with his mother, though the truth is she would have preferred this attention to be delivered on to the rose of her woman.

This the part of her which contrary to her believes required more of this kind of attention plus the more solid than she would ever allow herself to admit either to her husband or even to herself in private, as she in a way had become one to believe herself to be above sex. This perhaps given both her age and title which she carried with her like a badge she wanted all to see and admire. For her part it was not that she was deceiving herself that hers was a full sex life with her husband as her body had not known an orgasm in almost ten years that had not been produced by her own hand yet she was content in what was still theirs though she was all too aware it would not last very long as her husband was even loosing interest.

Thomas agreed with a smile and a nod to his wife’s suggestion as they walked down to the dinner table in what was bound to be another sit down with their daughter, who was always asked to partake in their meals even if hunger did not suffice for her to eat. Formality was one thing that for the most prevailed in these evening affairs where slightly though not overly elegant attire was required from its participants which on this occasion would only include Princess Karen, Thomas and their daughter; Kasiutrella.

Dinners in this residence despite not always being formal were always carried out with a certain air of pomp as that is how Princess Karen and her husband would approach the table, even when doing it solely for their own benefit. This with them always walking down the broad stairs of their two story house side by side as if doing it on a red carpet of sorts, as they made their way through their large house which like most of what surrounded them was neither overly expensive nor outstanding in any real way. As for their house, it was fashioned in what could be referred to as the typical American manner which in many ways was plain with those slight touches of European flavor in the form of small of statues on the mantle and paintings of castles which in fact were investments.

On this occasion as Princess Karen and Thomas walked in to their dinning room they found their daughter; Kasiutrella already seated at the table and much to both their disapproval had already commenced on the meal of the evening. It was these details which mattered in this household as both Karen and Thomas wanted to keep a certain decorum, specially Thomas who in many ways had been forced given many circumstances to live below what he felt his position should have provided him. Kasiutrella, on this occasion had also decided to wear clothes which for the most part she was aware her parents preferred her not to wear at the table. This coming in the form of the clothes she wore to play tennis which included a short white skirt, a t-shirt of many colors along with white sox as well as her sneakers of the same color.

Kasiutrella, in all reality on at that day had not had much in the way of time to get changed and showered for this meal as her parents would have wanted to; given not only that she had just finished practice at the club apart from how hungry she was to the point of not even taking in to consideration that she was doing what she knew her parents objected to.

Karen and Thomas entered their dinning room to the vision of their daughter, who had already gone through her soup and was about to start on the main course which on that day would be chicken, rice and baked potatoes. It was the sight of her parents that reminded Kasiutrella, that hers should have been to wait despite her hunger being what it was from the fatigue of having to practice her serve for what on that day had seemed hours on end. Kasiutrella however was in that age which to a certain extend demanded that she question all the morality and ideas she had been raised on. This lending cause for her not to immediately apologize for her lack of courtesy which in all truth she had come to see in a different light. It being that if she was hungry and the meal was served; why then should she wait for those who were late? Of course her also arguing to herself that why did it mean so much to some to not only eat together but to start doing so at the same time. As if those who started after the rest would be at some unfair disadvantage or could not enjoy their food as much, simply because some were already further in to it than they were.

It was not so much any more that Thomas minded such details, however he did feel it was always necessary to make it a point of saying something when such did occur, therefore it was with some jest that he stated “Kasiutrella, young lady I know you are hungry but you could at least try to wait for us before you commence” as he and Karen stood above her almost in judgment of her acts. “Oh, Thomas it is not like we are not late, if anything it is us who should say we are sorry for making her wait” Karen said almost trying to convince her husband it was them who were at fault. It was not that Thomas felt this was such a big issue but the truth was he was a man who had little to talk about other than such matters; given his business and details in protocol, which he never really managed to see were to a large extent a matter of interpretation with not everyone agreeing with him. This being the case as to not only how to follow its rules but ultimately what if any importance they should have in our lives.

Karen and Thomas took their seats with Thomas always sitting at the head of the table as the man of the house was supposed to while his wife took his right flank, leaving their daughter the left one, which in a way made her feel as if she were constantly being looked at for points or perhaps flaws she might commit during the meal. She could even remember the days when they would eat at the table and have to sit at its opposite ends. This meaning her father would sit at one end, while her mother at the other and she in the middle; creating a distance that made conversation awkward to say the least or such it was till one day Karen herself decided that perhaps it would be better to sit down together as a family and forget the ways of the wealthy.

Kasiutrella, in all reality was not one to revel against authority let alone her parents however she did have her views on many subjects which contrary to before she was more than willing to have known. “I never understand why it bothers people that somebody does not wait to start dinner, with them as if they could not do it after the other person has already started, will their food taste any worse? It is like a race where the point is to start all together and if one does so first it is cheating? I mean what is the significance of that specially if some arrive before I mean I understand it if we are all sitting together and somebody starts before the rest have been served but when a person starts before someone who has not even arrived at the table” Kasiutrella spoke with a certain air of pride as if she felt hers had been a winning argument which gave her cause for certain smugness.

Karen seeing that Kasiutrella had made her point did not see the need to continue with the same argument therefore interjected with what many knew to be her sense of calm that almost never went in to passion, though did not always include reason “Ok, that is enough young lady, you have made your point now may we please drop the subject?”. Karen’s smile could convince more than her words and on this occasion it was just this which led talk to another subject, as Thomas was not really in the mood to quarrel over an issue which was not even all that important.

“Well, at least I hope she will show more control in front of our house guest who is arriving tomorrow”, Thomas stated almost as if he were both trying to change the subject while getting in the last word about the previous one. Karen and Kasiutrella appeared surprised at that moment, as if they were hearing something which perhaps was not complete news to them but they had not expected. “Are we having house guest?” Karen was first to ask while Kasiutrella looked on wondering when she should come in with a question of her own which she had not yet considered. “Yes, we are and I mentioned this several weeks ago so I don’t know why you look at me so shocked” Thomas explained in his natural way of speaking which for the most part was slow and deliberate, almost as if he had rehearsed everything he had to say. “Well, dad did mention it but he did not say exactly when this house guest would be coming” Kasiutrella added; almost feeling like an adult that she was being allowed to partake in such a discussion. “I have not forgotten what you said but I just thought your nephew would not be coming this time, after all hasn’t he been saying he would come visit and stay with us for such a long time and so far, he still hasn’t.” Karen added to the conversation wanting to express her point of view which she felt should not be misunderstood that she had something against this particular house guest.

Thomas for his part felt he should explain given the fact that he had declared so often without results that his nephew; Pierre would be staying in their house, which he did in the form “I know before I said he will come but now he has to. He has found a job in LA, working in the cinema as camera man so he will come and stay till he finds an apartment or a place to live”. Karen in reality was not well acquainted with Pierre apart from knowing him from the distance that allows one to appreciate the looks of a person which he surely did not lack or the overall personality which she in all truth had never taken any kind of fancy toward, given she found him overly flirtatious. “You know, I have known him for over 15 years since he was a teenager and in all that time I don’t think I have ever had any conversation that went beyond a few words of hello and how are you but I do remember though it has been sometime since I have seen him that he is good looking, Kasiutrella even had a crush on him many years ago” Karen cried out trying to make it clear she was in a way glad about having him as a house guest. Kasiutrella, was made shy about having had her childhood fantasy discovered given she had never said anything to support the claim that she in fact had been in love with Pierre, apart from her being in an age when she wanted not only herself but her views not to be left out of any conversation. “Mom, I did not have a crush on him, well maybe a small one but that was a long time ago, besides I don’t think he even noticed me. I was such a child then and he was more concerned with you than anything else”.

It was not so much the case that Thomas, was against the idea of a man being attracted to his wife as long as it did not lead to it being the other way around however there was something about Pierre he feared though he knew not what. Pierre after all had never shown interest or at least none which he could see in his wife or older women for that matter, however given he was 30 years old or more or less at the time which perhaps might lead to his taking an interest in Karen. Of course it also would not be the first time an attractive man had shown such an interest though for some reason he felt he should worry; as his age no longer allowed him to keep by sexuality the wife that was his but by a title which could be so easily be changed. Of course with him being the confident man he was or at least wanted to be seen as could not make it apparent in any way that he feared loosing his wife or having her have an affair with what he had always considered to be an upstart playboy. He in all that concerned this matter could have refused his nephew to stay in his home but knew this would lead to questions as to how he could refuse his sister’s grandchild; who came to him needing a place to stay while he found one of his own. It was the idea that perhaps it was overly silly to think his wife of so many years though younger than himself would have an affair with a man, with a house guest that guided him to accept thinking it was pointless to be afraid that something intimate would come about.

Thomas however was not one who cherished any kind of talked that even hinted his wife might be unfaithful which brought about his reply which he hoped would not come of as defensive but in jest “Pierre has an eye for lovely women, this is true but I think my wife also has an eye only for me or so I hope”. Karen in reality had never even considered the chance of a romance between herself and Pierre though she had found him attractive even if she found his nature too loose in regards to not only life but women, in generally whom he would not stay with any longer than the season he happened to encounter them in. “Yes, it is true my dear, my eye is only to gaze upon my husband and besides I think Pierre is attracted to any woman who is over the age of 15 and under my own so I don’t think he will even notice me, not that I want him to of course” Karen spoke in a flat tone of voice as she reached across the table to touch her husband’s hand who seemed almost worried, as if fearing his wife were hiding some sort of desire, not only from him but even herself. Naturally with Thomas being one who had been trained by society to hide his emotions along with fears, it could not have been even any where near being noticed that such was the case as he smiled back to his wife as they held hands.

Kasiutrella, seeing her parents in one of those moments of romance as their eyes focused on the other cried out, “Oh, how corny “my eye is only to gaze upon”, sounds like bad poetry next you two will start kissing”. Karen looked away from Thomas not catching his worried look as she said “Don’t knock it till you tried it with somebody you are in love with”. Kasiutrella, could feel both her parents looking at her as she finished of her food and retorted with some cockiness about her “What makes you think I haven’t tried that and more with somebody I just want?”. Karen was not one to ever be able to talk with comfort to her daughter of such matters and yet she knew her husband even feared the subject; with some firmness replied more from the need to have to say something “Please stop telling us these tales of romance, you know you are too young and I told you this will be for you only when you are 16 and not a day before”. Kasiutrella in fact had experienced more sexuality than she would ever admit to her mother let alone father, whom she saw more like a grandfather, this the case even if she unlike some of her friends was still a virgin said “Ok, mother if you say so but waiting is hard at my age” with a certain cynicism about her that her father preferred to ignore, though he would talk to his wife about later.

As for the rest of the meal it went by calmly; as they all finished what they served themselves and Kasiutrella waiting for her parents; given she was in fact interested in how Pierre was going to direct a film at one of the studios. Karen for her part was even startled at how interested her daughter was to hear about Pierre’s career, to the point of staying almost a full half hour after having cleaned her plate as she seemed to somehow be moved by how Pierre had worked hard to get the job he was now sure to start in a week. Karen even suspected it might be this attraction for this man, who surely was one to capture the affections of many a young lady, specially like Kasiutrella who was perhaps overly romantic or even sexed though this second phase she was not aware of.

Chapter Three

There was something about the air that evening; perhaps it was the heat or the way she always felt at this time of year but there was something about the night which made Karen long for the touch of sexuality. Of course it did not escape her mind that part of her excitement had come from knowing that a younger man, who many considered to be a womanizer might desire her despite or perhaps due to her age being so much above his own.

Karen regardless of cause was exited, that evening as she got ready for bed putting on her night gown under which on the particular occasion she chose to wear without panties, in the hope and joy ever slight in hope that this part of her body which in her case was no longer protected by hair might be frequented by her husband’s tongue or root. She in a way felt like when she was in her early years of childhood, when attending a party with knowledge that made her aware she would not be allowed to stay up as late as the rest or fully enjoy what was to come as much as the rest who were older. Karen however on that evening did have some faint idea that theirs would go beyond the fondling and light caresses her sexual life had known for such a long time as to almost having wiped from her mind a time when her husband and her would engage in actions of penetration as to bring about ecstasy.

It was not that there was something new in what Karen was thinking on that evening, as many times had she put on her finest silk negligee only to have her almost dreams of more be met by the reality of her husband’s constantly advancing age; always approaching one that could be considered decrepit, if his was not already in that stage. Karen had even come to consider those nights on which her breast received a kiss or the attention of her husband’s tongue as one of making love, even if those lips so much bellow her breast had been ignored for so long by hands other than her own let alone any other part of her husband’s body which had become in many ways alienated from her most intimate component.

In what was these evening however there was one thing which could be considered new for Karen and that being her own daughter Kasiutrella, her having come to an age where womanhood lurked in her life to the point that it would not be long before sexuality would change her life. This being the case even if her mother preferred to think of her as a virgin, who would at least stay that way till an age which she considered acceptable though in all truth she had been excited by the idea that her daughter, had even taken to noticing how her mother still attracted attention.

Kasiutrella was a lovely young woman, very much so and this in so many ways reminded her of herself almost 40 years ago when her own body had started to develop along with the hormones that drove her to seek out the same desire for what was then novelty from those whose contrast would let her experience that which she could envision as being so lovely. It was perhaps this concept of youth in development that guided her to dare to strive for her rose to get the attention it so longed for, as it was desire to finally have the full treatment as she had come to call it that made her more adventurous with her husband that night.

This being to the point that Thomas, felt even slightly embarrassed as his wife Karen, started kissing and sucking his root after having gone through their ritual of shy mouth kisses along with his tongue taking taste from the rouge area on her large female mounds. Thomas, even feeling like a child who was being asked to do something he was not ready for, as if he were being put in a situation which should be obvious that he was no longer apt for; him feeling much like a fan at an opera who had suddenly been asked to get up on stage and take over the lead role. Thomas on any other occasion would have stopped his wife but there was something he could see in her eyes, that was almost like a furry that not only turned him on but even freighted him, almost as if she were a female rapist or the roles of their gender had been changed.

Karen was in control and this she knew well, like he had been so many years ago, where he guided yet it was now her who as she sucked with passion on his root was able to release some of its fury manifested in its hardness, which she could feel for the first time in so long as to make her of the mind that it might actually penetrate not only those lips which she had wrapped around it but those of so much more importance to her female anatomy. Thomas for his part felt he was being forced as she was using in fact though unknown to what she realized; her strength which given his age and her working out with weights had grown superior to his, to get him to do what she wanted. Karen seemed unrecognizable as she went at his male intimacy with ferocity, which in a way made Thomas who had never gone beyond conservative when regards to sex; feel as if he were being manipulated by this woman who seemed new to him. He placing his hands on her head as she worked on his root to give it the stiffness it would need to take that journey which had been so long in coming, in to those reaches in her which at times seemed so far.

Karen felt his lust growing as she tasted his root which in reality she despite all her effort knew would never achieve the stiffness it once had but was hoping would at least be able to have the strength to force its way in to that cave of her female desire; as it used to, so many years ago. This being what she was not going to be denied of that evening, feeling that she would rape her husband if need be but intercourse would be theirs, regardless of his desire or perhaps lack of it, for hers was what had to be satisfied.

All creating a situation similar to the soldier who is being made to go forward on the field of battle by a commander who is not in the least bit concerned weather or not he is willing or even able to accomplish the task he is being asked to perform. The reality being that concern is for victory and not the life of the soldier; who at most is expendable, where the cause will make all forget that some had to be sacrificed. Victory in Karen’s case being her husband leaving the seed of perhaps very limited desire in her rose which for so long had been limited only to what her own fingers could provide to give rise to its fantasy.

This being Karen’s perhaps not ultimate triumph yet one to cherish for what would be a long time to come, while Thomas was like the soldier who would not know glory on that day other than surviving the ordeal of the battle. All so he might perhaps fight another day or perhaps simply retire from the activities which in his case would be those of real intercourse, which at his age might even proof fatal, given what he claimed to have a heart that no longer could withstand the trials of a battle of the sexual kind.

Karen, once having established command over her soldier through superior physical strength which she had made clear she would not hesitate to use to get what she wanted much like a military commander using threats of court martial; felt in complete command to use her husband’s body as if it were an object for her desire wish she could mold and shape as her fancy struck her. How it felt to have her husband like this was something she had so often contemplated, for it was what she had always considered men to feel with a woman, whom they would take to injecting with their manhood as soon as their pride came about. It was she who for the first time in her life was in this position as she felt her husband in her mouth knowing he was as ready as his years would let him be to be taken by her as oppose to him taking her.

Princess Karen at that moment elevated herself to a sitting position from which she caught a glimpse of Thomas’s eyes, so fearful that he might not be able to perform what he was almost being forced to. It even seeming to Karen that he like a child was asking to be freed of the task he was being ordered to perform, though in reality the situation in his wife had gone beyond what she would or could control as she placed her legs around him in a way that she was riding him. All was ready and how freighted Thomas was; almost like a young girl who is about to loose her virginity, which in a way she is almost to embarrassed to say she wishes to keep but is more worried to let down the one who has worked up lusts as to make them dangerous should they be not fulfilled.

Karen seeing it all depended on her much like it often falls upon the male took charge, sensing this was the time as she took Thomas’s root which though not so hard would hopefully be able to at least penetrate the ring of her womanhood; entering her most graceful passage. It was not so much worry in her that it would not enter this place where she knew it wanted to be despite the fears its master felt but that it would not last long enough even in this arousal as to bring about her own moment of joy.

It was then that Karen so the main action could start that she simply pushed down with her behind; as she almost shoved his now going limp root in to herself, for what would be the start of their lovemaking. Thomas at that point was even shocked at what his wife had managed to get him to do much; like the student who is being led by his teacher to the extreme that he is no longer capable of making choices and is even surprised to see what he is capable of when directed in the right fashion. This what Karen was doing as she once having set herself at the right place, forced her body to go down on Thomas’s root which she felt inside her though nowhere near what it once had been.

Karen held on to Thomas’s shoulders much like a man pining down another or like Thomas had once done to her only it was her who held him and even forced him as she emphasized her waist’s movements almost to use him to make love to herself. Raise and descend she would as she held him; who was so mentally overwhelmed as well as physically to say anything let alone do anything, for this was not the way he was told sex should be. Karen was changing all the rules, she was making love to him solely as her will dictated.

Karen sensing her intruder, who in some regards was a prisoner; was not solid enough to reenter her ultimate sexual passage did not go up enough as to give it a chance to escape. All of which not letting up the pressure on her captive admirer, whom her lips tightened around as much as her muscles would allow her so she might squeeze from him the very offering once again which had so many years ago produced their first child.

Thomas was feeling a complete loss of control, as he looked up at the strong woman, much more than him; enjoying from his sexuality which even started to give arousal to his pride that he even at this age could in sense fulfill. How long had he not seen her in real ecstasy and though it would be hard to say hers was total; it was there, as she did moan and groan. This making her appear incredibly beautiful to him who could see her eyes close in ecstasy; reminding him of the smile she had.

Karen could sense hers was about to end which made her rush her tempo; to almost frantic as she seemed to almost be trying to get out the last drop from a fruit which was her husband’s root, in an attempt to make it give its splendor; so long not hers to cherish. Thomas could sense his wife was as she had not been in so many years and it was then he tried to give her that seed; he for the first time that evening touching her breast, while even trying to make his root provide.

Karen feeling her husband efforts, continued with mirth in what come to be the first orgasm she had felt inside her; which in a way was a victory, even if hers did not come other than the satisfaction that she had made Thomas exert himself more than he thought himself still capable of. Karen had been on the verge of her own, which was also more than she would have even thought possible at the start of the evening, while Thomas’s had come in the form of a light spray. This being what she wanted to praise as she rolled off him; much like a mother wishes to do with her son, who has just done something of certain merit.

Chapter Four

Karen went off her husband, almost as tired and fatigued as a man would usually be; for she in all reality had done the work while Thomas had but been a participant; much like most females are usually limited in their role. Thomas was tired and sweating; as if he had been in a marathon though in reality, it was not so much the physical effort which had tired him, for he did from time to time do physical exercise which was even more strenuous than what he had just done yet it was the lose of his seed which had made him weak. He on the other hand was proud as to what his body, even if largely assisted by his much younger wife had done, as he at his age; managed to have an orgasm, even if ever so slight in a woman who was still desired by many with infinitely more vigor than he. Thomas’s was fatigue which would not allow him to contemplate what had been, however his feelings were alive as he lay on his back almost out of breath, feeling much like a marathon runner whose fatigue is a badge of honor that he has at least finished the race.

Karen for her part, felt like the general who has won the battle but is all too aware that the war was more than lost yet can take certain pride that he had at least delayed defeat a little longer; though ultimately defeat is inevitable. This being the case since such nights were not to be hoped for again, since they more than likely would not return with any frequency if at all. Karen in a way was saddened by this much like a person who has been allowed to stay in a luxurious hotel by a chance wish probably will never repeat itself and not by his or her own money which he or she knows will more than likely never suffice to return.

Karen had not achieved orgasm however in all this was not a malcontent and felt happy, as it had been more than she would have even dared dream for, after all her rose had gotten more attention than it had in the last ten years. “Thank you, Thomas.” Karen spoke as she tried to get back her breath. Thomas not really knowing what to think asked “What are you thanking me for?”. Karen feeling it was apparent that she was praising his efforts which had been pushed almost beyond his limit said “For loving me and making me happy tonight like I have not been in a long time.” as she looked in to his eyes which contrary to hers were but tired.

Karen in a way was grateful but if truth be known even if just to herself; had become even more full of desire, though this would be truly what could be called “asking too much” from a man who by all means had been deprived of all energy though she did want more. This in and of itself was not a problem as she could sneak off to the bathroom in the night to bring about her own orgasm; as she had done on so many previous nights however she did begin to ponder the future and would this come about again and how long it would take for her to loose interest in this which if all be considered held but novelty value to a woman so awakened to the idea that she might have so much more even if by this very small display.

All consideration of the sort was for the future, for the time present was to some extent; one to celebrate. It being what she did as she lay on her back, holding her husband’s hand in the hope she had not hurt him in any way. These being fears she did not want to mention out loud as she might be implying that her husband’s body had been overly pushed or that he was too old for what had been theirs. In a way she went back to the role of what was expected of a woman, meaning the one that dictated she should wait on his words to tell her what had to be or what had been.

Thomas did not reply right away as he really felt there was nothing he wanted or need to say; as it was a certain degree of pride and even vanity that lent to his holding up appearances by saying “I am glad I can still make you happy.” as he put up his pajama pants and rolled over with the word “Good night”. Karen did not know what to say other than “Good night” as she waited for her husband to doze of so she might conclude what had been initiated in the bathroom.

Thomas while in the process of falling in to the slide that leads to slumber felt he had accomplished something much like the runner; who has been forced to go beyond what he thought he was capable of and in a strange way was grateful he had been made to do what he had. This since he in truth to himself did not ignore the fact that he would not have done what he had on his own accord.

Chapter Five

It in a way was strange; as having made love to her husband had not really satisfied her but quit the contrary had left her with more longing than usual to go in to the place she had turned in to her haven. This being her bathroom which was another than her husband’s; who would never use hers just as she would never use his. To Karen in many ways this almost nightly ritual had become one very much similar to a sleep walker, who acts on instinct, not aware of where he or she is in the physical form; as that person is living out a fantasy in his or her mind where the body is simply trying to keep pace with the ideas of the mind.

Of course the reality was not one that Princess Karen was sleep walking, for she knew perfectly well what her body was doing as well as what she wanted. She in what had become almost routine would get up as she did not that night once she was sure her husband had dozed off and go to her bathroom, which she would do so barefoot and on tip toes; as to not awake her husband, who on some nights was prone to waking up in the middle of the night.

Karen had come to threat these experiences as a way of going back to the past or perhaps a secret rendezvous with a mysterious devotee; which in her case was the 9 inch instrument she kept in a secret compartment of her bathroom just under the tub. It being what she on so many occasions had soaked, providing her with more erotic flight of fancy for her body’s senses than even the hot water and salts she tended to have her baths with. Regarding this rubber vibrator which she had come to treasure, almost as much if not more than any piece of jewelry she had, it in fact was given to her by a friend, who more in jest gave it to her after the two had visited a sex shop and had even gone to the trouble of checking out; more for the amusement of having the clerk at the store demonstrate how it performed its function. How she and her friend Patricia, had enjoyed themselves that day seeing that shy young man showing them how a vibrator worked, with regards to not only how to put in its batteries or turn it on but the fashion in which it should be held to allow it to stimulate that part of the feminine anatomy it was mainly intended to. Karen had been so intrigued by it as she would have never imagined that something of the sort could be used by so many women like herself, yet it was at first only curiosity that led her to ask if this small but potent lover; in its ability to never grow tired could be used to penetrate the opening from behind which in fact she had never allowed any man to use.

It was this the moment she treasured the most as that young man, who in reality was neither good looking nor charming in any way apart from being overly bashful told her that many a high society lady like herself came to the place saying they just wanted to have information if these was possible. Karen could even imagine how many a woman (unlike herself at the time) stooped so low as to use this device on their anal entrance to obtain that which their husbands no longer would or could provide. Some even preferring this rubber object given the greater control they had over it and because it would not be painful and would stop when they desired. Naturally there were those who preferred the services of this which had come to be her favorite toy given they did not want to give the impression that by preferring or desiring this form of penetration they were prone to being overly loose or would perform the act with any man. It was this precious reason which Karen, herself said more in jest than anything that would be the reason if she were ever to purchase one of those “sinful toys of the devil” as she dubbed it.

Karen’s friend; Patricia had always admired Karen’s sense of humor and in an attempt to play a practical joke on her friend went through the trouble purchasing the very same vibrator they had looked at and wrapping it in red paper, on which she wrote the words “sinful toy of the devil” which instantly told Karen what she would be opening. This put Karen on alert that on that Christmas; this was a gift which though presented in jest she should by no means open in front of her husband, as contrary even to her own intensions it would become his substitute in those most intimate parts of her anatomy.

Karen at first only kept this “toy of the devil”, given she really knew not what to do with it, for whom could she pass it on to and could she really throw away a present which she could always show to other friends as a way to get even with Patricia for her perhaps bad taste. It in a way was odd that as soon as her eyes saw the present she knew where she would keep it; in a place she was sure would never be discovered, yet it was not with the purpose of keeping it long, as she in fact intended to return it to Patricia. Patricia in turn shocking her by saying she had one of her own, which she used more often than she would ever admit to any friend who was not as close as Karen. All of which leading to some guilt in Karen that she had felt any rancor with her friend for this present, which perhaps was given with not only mirth in mind but intensions of her physical enjoyment, though at first impact had made her feel some resentment toward Patricia.

It was with a lot of reluctance that Princess Karen even turned on her devil’s toy and even more so that she introduced it in to her body; at first around her rose and eventually in to the area of herself nature had dubbed her vagina, with the pretext which she even doubted at first that she was merely doing it as an experiment just so she might see what it was like. It being very similar to somebody trying something he or she knows he or she will not like but does so just to say it was at least tried. This argument her mentality imposed on her was accepted at first but how many times can one try something with the excuse that it is not for pleasure but just to grab the taste, this the case since she had already used it 10 times with multiple orgasms when she finally allowed herself to accept that this little toy was in fact her lover.

Karen in many ways had made hers in to a drill which she repeated almost identically, every time she went in to her bathroom with the purpose of self satisfaction or the one of the mind as she had come to think of. This being that it was her memories that motivated her devil’s toy to those points so giving in ecstasy, which she could find with so much more ease than she felt any man would ever be able to, for how could a man ever know which points to touch; save he be told or observe her in the act but this she was certain would never be.

A fictional Story inspired by the life of Princess Cantrell of the Republic Aquitaine and her dreams of being taken in the way described; forgetting all the pomp of a princess which by doing so would bring out the true woman in her.

Chapter One

What happened that night I am not aware of exactly what it was, as it was like a dream where everything is blurry and all we see are the outlines of the place where we are or the people who surround us. Sometimes recognizing some of the people we already know while those we do not; we can tell little about apart from their gender, for their faces are never clear enough that we might distinguish them again as they in fact could be anybody and yet nobody.

The night was a Friday and I was getting ready to go the opera with my husband whose age exceeds mine by two decades, and as I dressed I felt as I put on my clothes that something would happen that evening that made the choosing not only the clothes I wore outside but the ones I wore inside perhaps even more important than usual. It would be almost impossible to ascertain with any reason what made me feel this way, was summer influence in the air or the lack of sexual activity in my life. This given many a reason, one of which being my husband’s age along with the fact that he and I do spend many nights apart given that we do not even live in the same city and do travel quite extensively.

As for my husband what I will say about him is that he apart from being very much my senior, is a man not deprived of either good looks or wealth, even if his is not the kind which Forbes would place any where near the top of its list; however it was enough to lend a very practical angle to our marriage. It being that I obtained the title of Princess and funds sufficient to start my own company while my family profited from his connections in his native France. My husband however profited no less from our marital union as he did obtain that coveted American green card along with the use of my family’s connections in the States.

For my part what I will say about myself is that I am an American Princess; if such could be a title given, as it was through marriage that I did obtain it. Regarding my physical appearance, most men would say I am attractive as I do fit the type of Anglo Saxon female considered by many as beautiful. This given that my hair is blonde and straight; which I, since passing the age of fifty (me now being fifty-five) never allowed past my shoulders. As for the rest of me, my eyes are blue and mounted on a face which in reality I at times find plain given its lack of features which are distinguishable yet I am constantly being flattered by both men and women.

As for the rest of me, it perhaps is my physique which I take the most pride in, as I am relatively short standing at 160 and weighing in at what I would refer to as a lean 50 kilos; as I in fact have very little in the way of body fat, which does give me a figure even I at times catch myself admiring in the mirror. This not saying anything of some less discrete males whom I often catch staring, in a way that does not even attempt to hide their desires for more than a glance. This being how my body despite coming in a small package is what I have heard as one that comes packed with sexuality; though this would be hard for me to judge for myself even if I do notice how my breast are larger than those of most women while my legs more shapely.

One in fact without much room for doubt could say I am what is commonly known as “fine looking lady”, specially given my age and it was with this in mind that I chose my clothes that evening for the closing of the opera season which I would be attending in the society; not only of my husband but another couple whom we rarely if ever did see outside of the opera. The clothes I chose for the evening did not require much thought on my part or at least not my out garments as I wore the standard black nightgown I tended to wear to such functions which was a black dress with straps which for the most part did not allow me to wear a bra given the back strap would have been in plain sight of all. This was a dress which my husband liked seeing me in; perhaps given how short it was, though not overly going down as low as to fall 15 centimeters below where my stockings went up to. This being the case if I decided to wear stockings which on that day I argued with myself weather or not I would till finally it prevailed that those around me would be treated to my legs being wrapped in regular tan colored nylons.

While not much planning went in to my outer garments, it was in my under ones that I did take time to consider the options, as for some reason I felt that on that day this did matter, though why I knew not; though perhaps it was my female instinct that told me it did. I looked over several pairs of panties I had and after careful consideration; I opted for a pair of red silk panties. The kind that in fact cover very little of what my husband used to refer to as my well shaped behind, given there is but a very thin strap to hold the front part which barely gives cover to the golden hairs of my highest intimacy. This being what my favorite author “Gianni Truvianni” often repeats as being the rose of womanhood.

As for the rest of my wears which included my black high heel shoes, which allow my legs to take on that perfect or at least in opinion form which I do admire in myself almost above all the rest of me, along with a purse to match; which in fact was the one I bought new for this occasion. All was as any other night on which the opera season was bound to come to an end or at least till the next season in the fall was due to start, as summer was in the air in full heat. This being why I opted not to take a coat of any kind or even as much a s a light jacket which undoubtedly would have made even my arm perspire had I carried it.

In all honesty such was the heat that evening as I stepped out of our house that I even regretted the pantyhose I had put on instead of the stockings I normally wore but with us being in a hurry to get to the opera on time and our friends waiting I decided it would seem ridiculous if I were to say that I had suddenly opted for stockings instead of what I was wearing. The heat I must say was also sexually arousing me, as I walked over to the car that would take us to the opera. How I could feel my body, as sweat poured out of me, to the point where it was almost visible yet I did keep my composure despite all that was about, from my thoughts of the erotic to the temperature. We all got in the car as if getting out of the rain when in fact we were escaping the heat in what would be an air conditioned vehicle, which in fact it was. It was once inside however that the cool air would strike upon my areoles stiffening them to the point of being seen by my friend Betty, whose etiquette prevented from commenting on but not her stare which did cause a blush in me; also not unnoticed by her.

The conversation in the car, as on every trip to the opera my husband and I took centered on how noble he was to go to the opera despite hating it as much as he did so his wife could enjoy being near the thing which she had once studied for at one of the most prestigious music schools in America. It being what in fact I would go on to give it up so easily when things or the parts I wanted would not come my way as soon as I wanted them to. Perhaps I should have tried harder or simply stuck to what I studied but the life of practice and rehearsals was not what I desired any longer at that point in my life, therefore I opted for the job my father offered me in his company, which though not artistically rewarding did ensure me of an adequate salary plus several chances for promotion. How many years had gone by since that day when I turned down the opera in favor of my father’s offer which even he told me I could refuse with no resentfulness on his part as the post would be there for me if I ever chose to take it.

I must admit it was with some regret that I remember that moment in which I accepted but then again would I have been a great diva like Renee Fleming, whom we would be hearing that evening; along with Rolando Villazon in Mozart’s “Don Giovanni”? This I doubt and if there was one thing which my ego would not allow me to be was one of many as I perhaps rightly or wrongly always felt the need to stand out above the crowd, so to speak. This perhaps being the reason I always add my title H.R.H. in front of my name Karen Sue Cantrell (which is even extended further by “of the Republic of Aquitaine) regardless of weather it be when presenting myself to someone new or making hotel reservations or anything that may require me to give my name.

The drive to the opera was quick as traffic was light, this given the evening hour; all of which leading to us not arriving late but rather with five minutes to spare so we might take our seats without having to run; something which in this heat did not come unwelcome. I for my part never enjoyed arriving too early, given all the people my husband and I were forced; by rules of decorum to chat with before the start of the opera, this being something I preferred to do after.

The opera began on time and by the time it did my husband and I along with the couple who accompanied us were seated ready for the first notes of the overture to the opera Don Giovanni. How I love this opera, is something I will never be able to describe and yet in all sincerity it is not so much that I am such a Mozart fan as much as I am one of this opera. It might be its subject; the infamous seducer “Don Juan”. Who in fact is based on the character from “El Burlador De Sevilla, who cared not for anything that was not seduction of women, weather it be by enchantment or trick, as is the start of this opera; in which he makes love to Dona Anna. She believing it is her beloved. This only to find out once the dark had left that the one causing her groans was not her fiancée but the daring Don Juan.

Naturally this is not in the libretto of Don Giovanni and even if it were I doubt it would have been shown on stage, however it is understood to be going on while Leporello is signing the opening aria in which he complains of how he wishes he had any other master than his present boss, who is the cause of his almost never eating or sleeping well. I however can imagine this as it has been used in so many works of both literature and film where we see one person making love with another, while one of the participants in under the impression he or she though more often than not it is the woman who in fact is with another man. I could even picture Donna Anna (who like me has a title) mystified as she comes upon one orgasm after the other; why all of a sudden her lover had gone up so many notches? Of course it would be with fury that she would receive the news that Don Octtavio; who she had believed to be her fiancée, was in fact Don Giovanni.

Naturally it being Don Giovanni to attempt to take flight once the truth had been revealed, while Don Anna prevented him from doing so with her screams, which would lure her father who would discover his daughter and Don Giovanni involved in a struggle. The commendatore being Donna Anna’s father feeling propelled to protect his daughter takes out a sword and challenges Don Giovanni, who without much difficulty delivers a death blow with his sword to not only his life but his gallant intentions as well. In all this I have always felt it so arrogant for a man, to both in a way trick a woman in to surrendering her sexual pleasures after which he slays her father, so much so that contrary to being repelled by it I am even turned on. The boldness of the act, not to even consider weather a woman might not want it but simply impose it upon her with all the trust of his male dagger. As if saying he knew best what her desires longed for; which was enough to get me excited yet this was followed by his slaying of the man who had come to champion her cause only to find out that a will does not always suffice to find a way.

Chapter Two

I during the course of the opera, noticed out of the corner of my eye a man who in all honesty caught my gawk for the total opposite of what Don Giovanni was; where this famous seducer was swab and diviner this man was ugly in ever way from his face, mannerisms and cloths to the point of being amusing. Him being a man of red hair and freckles, who had in fact an unattractive face, while being short and plump. He sat in the booth next to ours and for the life of me I did not recall where I had seen him but there seemed something about him most familiar but this left my mind as soon as I felt the famous aria “Laci de la mano” was about to begin. This in my opinion if that of nobody else being arguably the ultimate song of seduction where Don Giovanni convinces the peasant girl Zerlina that her romantic interests are best served by him and not Masetto, the one she has promised to marry.

It was a wonderful aria that set my imagination a stir as Don Giovanni makes every attempt at seduction while Zerlina fights him of till she is no longer able to resist the charm of the one very few women ever would be able to keep at bay. Naturally as is the case with many things in life, they are disturbed by another which in the case of Zerlina and Don Giovanni is the sudden appearance of Donna Elvira, to inform Zerlina that she is one of many whose favors have and will be taken by this ever gallant gentleman.

I am not aware of what it was that evening, I after all had heard this aria sung thousands of times but there was something about it on that particular occasion that turned me, the same way as it did Zerlina and like hers and Don Juan’s, my longing also was not going to be calmed. It was at this point of the opera that I also noticed that I had been holding back my urge to go to the toilet to take what is commonly known as “a leak”, given how caught up I had been in the performance. I also felt my legs sweating as if I had just gone through one of my almost daily work outs at the gym, which under the circumstance of wearing nylons, felt anything but comfortable. I definitely needed to go to the ladies room and take care of a few issues, which is precisely what my intensions were as I slipped undetected by my husband who had already fallen asleep and our friends who as always seemed to be so taken in by the opera that they did not notice me at all as I tip toed out of our both.

The reality was that by then I was desperate not only to use the toilet but take off those itchy pantyhose, so much so that I looked around till I instantly went in to what I saw was the ladies restroom. How good it felt to sit down at the toilet where first lowered my pantyhose just enough that I might urinate. It was an incredible relieve and as I sat there with my pantyhose and panties past my dress, all I could think of was that half of what I had come in there to do was over with. The second half would be to just remove my pantyhose; which I had not made up my mind weather I should throw away or simply keep in my purse, not that this was even possible given how in my rush I had left at my chair.

Without really knowing what do with my pantyhose, I started to peel them off and just as they were around my knees I received one of the biggest shocks my life had known up till that point. A man was standing in front of my holding his root in his hand as if he wanted to urinate, yet what shocked me was why had he come in to the ladies room to do this? Had he not seen the sign and yet regardless of reason he came toward me who tried to stand up so he might take care of his needs. He however at that moment grabbed me by my shoulder, not allowing me to stand up, and by virtue of which let me know what his real needs were. I was afraid at first but then I noticed that it was that most vulgar man, sitting next to me; who though rough did resemble Don Giovanni in perhaps the most important of all ways and it being; his lust to posses a woman by what ever means were available to him and it was this that now made him most desirable to me.

I almost stopped breathing at that moment as he got closer, with his root in hand clear aimed for my mouth which was open more in shock than any longing to taking in what was being offered in the form of his short but fat member, which now was making its stiffness all too clear to my eyes. I for my part perhaps moved by what could be called part sexual arousal part fear of saying “no” was paralyzed as I froze, both unable to get away or even close my mouth, which might not have prevented this intruder from entering in the same way it would have done in the case of a mosquito.

It might have been that in all truth, I had never performed this act or that I needed it but the fact is that I took his root in my mouth, as automatically as he delivered it, making for something as natural as man or perhaps even a woman handing a coat check girl a ticket, the significance which she knows all to well. It even seemed strange to me that I instantly knew what do as his salty root entered my mouth, which strangely enough was not as unpleasant as I had always thought it would be. At first perhaps it did seem a tad disgusting but once the taste became friendly I actually took a liking to it and started working my tongue and sucking on the head of this member, which in my mouth had taken on an identity of its own. It was strange his was not so big but despite or perhaps because of this it was incredibly hard, even to the point of bouncing back as my mouth sucked on it.

How this was different from my husband, as he had not only never made me to perform such an act but quite the contrary had almost struck me once when I suggested we could try it if it made him happy. He of course saying that this was an act reserved for prostitutes or woman of such character and never for a Princess, which is what I had become because of him. This apart from a childless woman given, his creed that told him such tinny beings would interrupt his jet set lifestyle.

I continued to work the knobby end of his tool, though at times it went deep enough in me as to make me gag, yet this he sensed and managed to take it out just far enough that my efforts might be concentrated on the shinny tip, which another part of my anatomy, judging for the moisture I was feeling from it was growing very anxious to welcome much in the same way. His hands held my head as I did this simple action which had grown so lovely in my esteem, yet I had reached the point where my rose could no longer take the envy of not having what my mouth cherished so joyfully, so it was at this point that he tried to remove his root so it might introduce itself to another part of my anatomy. Yet, it was I who by grabbing on to his buttocks was able to surprise him perhaps more than he had me earlier, when I with all the force from my weight lifting and kickboxing lessons pressed him against me with all my strength; leaving him with little choice but to finish what he had commenced in my mouth.

Hot it tasted in my mouth, as his salty white liquid came out in a way that even split out on to my chin, perhaps given the appearance that I had been drinking milk. For my part I had felt this before though never in this part of me yet the sensation was one I will never forget, of sensing it even more intimately than I had when it had been injected in me where nature had truly meant it to be.

Many may consider this a lack of respect for a man to do what he had done but in a way it was me who had caused it more than he, yet as he stood there not knowing what do say, with me not even knowing if he could speak English as many foreigners attended the opera. I looked up at him and for the first time saw his face and eyes, which in an odd way were not as plain as I had first considered them to be.

I even took a sense of pride as his eye looked at me that made me want to smile as I had forced this on him in a way but I was not going to have my rose cheated out of what my mouth had savored and as he stood in front of me. I suddenly stood up and turned my back to him, to the point where the image I presented him with was one of myself bent over on the toilet seat with my dress raised up and my pantyhose and panties between my legs, while the real entrance to my feminine world was not only exposed but available. It being such to the onslaught of the one which had already caused rain in my mouth. We in all that had become our dealings; not a word had we said as we would be speaking through our actions. As if we were in a time and space where talk would not only get in the way but cheapen the nobility of our acts.

I from this position of wait, could feel the wetness pouring out of me as it was a combination of several factors, one of them being the place where we were and the circumstances that surrounded; one of which included how we had no idea of who the other was created great excitement. It even seemed funny to me that all my life I had been told that great sex depended on love of the same kind yet here it was about to be my grandest orgasm, with a man whom I barely could stand let alone loved yet it mattered not for the impetuous nature of our acts made it that he could have been the least desirable man on earth and it would not have made any difference. I looked back at him and I saw his eyes and a rage in him, as if I had presented him with a challenge of being able to do it one more time, which he took with full rancor or so it appeared when he reached down and ripped of my pantyhose and panties; which in reality made me come within a hair of having my first orgasm without any penetration what so ever.

His root had become stiff once again, in his desire to show me that he like the opera singer who comes out for the third act was not finished for the night which is precisely what I felt when he entered me. It was if putting my womanly urges out of their misery with what would be several stabs of his sexually driven sword. It was like nothing I had ever experienced and it was no longer a factor of the place where I was or the fact that this was a stranger but what he was actually doing. This was a nice position for me, as my husband in all his sexual shyness, if such it could be described had never allowed us to venture outside the missionary position or the one where I got on top; which we also did in a limited number of places. That only included beds, not even once having escaped either the routine in any way, with reference to either positions or places. This going to the extreme that he once called me a “whore” just for wanting to try it on the kitchen floor.

Chapter Three

How this man, was different than my husband was plain, from sight as he neither had the good looks, manners and aristocratic ways but he was one who truly knew how to turn a Princess or a lady in to woman and perhaps even what in some corners is called a “slut”. Yes, one could say as I had observed that he was fat, short and going slightly bald, perhaps even being slightly older than my husband with looks that as some say “only a mother could ever love” but in this body of his was a man, of pure lust who moved his root in me as I lay on that toilet with strokes as majestic as any ballet dancer could ever make whilst his hands did likewise to my breast.

Again this was so much what I was not used to for my husband; the only man I had ever known sexually was one who practically had to ask my permission ten times before he would even dare think of making love to me. This being completely different from this man, who took such formalities completely for granted; as if he had not a clue to what personal space meant or even cared to learn. I even for my part desired nothing less than to teach him as I could feel his balls banging against my behind as I let out moans which had more than likely grown in to screams of ecstasy as he took me like my husband never would or could have given how he respected me almost to the point of believing me too good for such actions which I have no doubt he would not have heisted to perform with those who get paid to do so.

At first this position like many things that evening were difficult for me but as I got in to my stride I found myself more from unconscious reaction than wanting to please either him or myself, reaching back and grabbing his large balls which would not stop slapping my behind. It coming much like a punishment though his entrances were anything but. It was then that he perhaps feeling he could not deliver on to my rose what he had already done upon my mouth; took me and placed me on the floor for what I could see would be the return of the missionary position in my life. This time however it would be performed on the floor of the ladies restroom in the opera as opposed to some bed.

The first touch of the floor felt hard against my back as he placed me down, where he ripped off what remained of both my pantyhose and panties, going to where I would have to throw them away as how could I explain to my husband them ending up like they were. This however was the last thing on my mind along with weather or not we would be discovered by somebody who might accidentally come in. As all I wanted was his “dick” inside me as I had come to think of it with all its force not only to continue what it had started but to finish it with the full glob I had swallowed what seemed to be an hour before.

Such had I lost all prudence that I never stopped to think of things as diseases or weather or not I would become impregnated by him as all I cared about was having him take me on that floor or perhaps it would be me doing this on to him. It did not take him long as he moved much faster than I would have ever given him credit for; to get in to the position where he could enter me at will, which in fact would have been mine. His penetration however this time came so smoothly as to give me the sensation he had never left, even for that perhaps half a minute or less it took to change positions.

I can only imagin how it would have looked liked to another woman or any person who entered the restroom, just there and then as he was on top of me; though in reality he was so light given he held his own weight, unlike my husband who had always been heavy on me. It must have been an erotic scene galore as my pantyhose and panties were torn on the floor while he was taking me in this most common position to all lovers. All going on whilst my legs and arms were wrapped around him, almost in despair of not falling from him which is exactly what it seemed would happen if I had let go; for it did in all reality feel as if I were soaring through the air.

All this being the case since this man whose name I was not even aware of nor had I ever heard his voice was not really making love to be but in fact was in plain and even vulgar language “fucking” me! How his root battered me, with such force that every trust seemed to bring me nearer to orgasm, similar to tidal waves hitting against a dam, where every one seems to be strong enough to burst through, was something I will never forget. This being contrary to what I had done with time at that moment, and as I grasped him with all my power he continued his work which included grabbing me by my shoulders as he much like a pile driver continued his work uninterrupted as my moans grew even loader. All making it a great thing this was the opera where the music was loud.

His rhythm increased as I could sense his second arrival was close which motivated me to do what I had once done with my husband which made him awfully upset which was to contract the muscles leading the ring of my rose to squeeze his root. I at first thought I had done this harder than I ought to given the way he looked at me with some anxiety, only to smile with his brown eyes as I did back with my own as he continued in the frantic way a plane does when it is about to take off. This causing his eyes to glue themselves to mine and I too started moving faster to match his moves, which we managed to coordinate to perfection, as if we had been doing it for as many years as my husband and me had stopped doing it. I had done plenty of experiencing, which in a way was odd how a man who was so forceful with me gave me so much license; where my husband never would have let me do most of what I already had to this man. I then as I felt his climatic moment approach as did my own and much to his apparent joy; grabbed his balls as I felt them squirt their energy deep in to me in what become our grand finale to our act.

It was as he finished that he got up from me and I realized that I best get up and run away. Fast before somebody came in and discovered what had taken place or before the intermission brought several of my friends in to see me in this most compromising of positions. I was tired and slightly lost but I straightened out my dress, to look more or less like nothing had happened while he still without saying a word lifted up his pants. It had been a naughty night for me which I was not about to give up on and as I looked at his root I before getting up and leaving managed to stroke it with the soul of my foot, as if petting an animal that had done a great deed which in fact this small being had.

It was with a smile that my slightly comic gesture was received which I returned as I got up and took my panties and pantyhose which I placed in the trash can near the door, while he remained on his knees visibly exhausted. I was about to leave when I suddenly in distinct foreign accent heard “Come back after intermission, I give you more”. I laughed as I left because if truth be told I could have stood a second helping which in fact we did enjoy during the next intermission that followed though perhaps with less intensity and more talking. It being in this conversation that led me to find out that he was a small Russian business man; who in fact had a spirit that in so many ways contrasted his looks; as to make one believe he perhaps was born in the wrong body.

I left the bathroom, and as I did my walk was light as if a big load had been lifted from me which felt much like my workouts though this one had created in me (even if it was unknown at the time) something no workout ever could and that being the child, whose birth would go on to seal my marriage in divorce as what else but infidelity could account for it? Specially given the fact that my husband and I had been foreign to this activity for so long. All of which leading me to where I am today; happy with my Russian husband who though not rich or aristocratic or even handsome showed me that perhaps some things are not really all that valuable when compared to passion and above all our child which came from it.

As an after thought I found it hilarious how when I left the restroom I saw many men going in, and as I looked back I wondered why this was the case but then I saw that in fact it had been me to enter the men’s room, not my now Vladimir to enter the ladies room. A friend of mine who recognized me even said in a cheery tone “What’s the matter, you went in to the wrong place?” to which I replied laughingly “No, I think for the first time in a long time I went in to the right place”.

A story of romance and tenderness inspired by dreams of mine in which all my hidden passions for the one of my adoration come out in ways beyond my control. It being as if willed by my inner lusts that rise above the control my mind attempts to impose on them.

He is my private teacher to edify me in the languages of the world which range from English to Spanish to Italian yet he seems as if created by my fantasies of the sort of man, I had always wanted but in all reality never thought I would encounter beyond my visions of the night. He being a man of intellect to speak in several tongues including my native Polish while possessor of the personality to make me take notice that he is one to motivate me to thoughts and passions rarely known even to myself. How it was admiration, at first that drew me while his exterior physique like his intellect left nothing for me to desire, for his looks like the rest of him had been molded by my deepest wishes of the night.

So much for my eyes to behold to stir up my fantasies, it being in his dark hair to contrast my light blonde and in skin tone which though white does not take on the pale shade of my own. His body being one that does not provide muscles of large proportions yet does allow my eye to gaze upon a man of sensitivity with ample strength to make my body quiver with but his delicate stroke upon my skin. This being that which be of such power as to strike fear in me for how I might react yet greater trepidation would come should I loose domination of myself, to forget the vows I took to my husband and the financial bonds which tie me down to a life which more and more looses its significance.

His name, I mention not anymore than I do my own yet I do say that his eyes are those that seem to see so much of me which none ever had while allowing me to almost glance in to a personality of warmth which at times creates in me such sensations as to not allow him to leave my mind. It being he who, occupies my thoughts almost to point of driving out all other functions that include the longing to eat or conceive in my mind that which does not involve him. In all this I wish I could say that “my dear teacher”, as I have come to consider him does not return my affections, for if the case were such my desires would move away from him yet his yearning for the one he has dubbed “my angel” is not surpassed by my own.

His is such a presence in my life that I can not escape it regardless of where my sprees may take me. It being one which does not even require me to think of him, for he is a constant in my psyche as is the air I breath in my lungs which I feel while I am awake and in the hours of my slumber. It being those hours of the night that include sleep which takes me away from my world of problems that include the marriage I have come so bitterly to regret yet delivers him on to me in full force as occurs with the arrival of every sunset.

How I could present those whom should read this story with page after page of my nocturnal visions that include promenades along romantic beaches, elegant dinners with champagne and candles on yachts and so many others yet all to end in acts of intense carnality. All in their form being different from each other yet still to make me tremble in my slumber as if fever stricken. How many times it has been that my senses were taken to their limits by what I know to be our mutual adoration of each other that consumes so much of us as to leave little if anything to ourselves which be private.

How I could go in to detail of the roles “my dear teacher” and I play, as we dress up in our most elegant attire that witnesses him in dark Armani suits while I, his angel; do not disappoint in gowns to give more sparkle to our encounters. I, at times finding myself in long dresses that include openings in the back or slits just adequate that I might show my dear teacher how it is stockings to adorn the legs his eyes and at times hands have come to caress in a manner to entice me more than I would have ever believed could be done on to me.

Naturally, all from our places of encounter to our attire to the fashions we employ to the roles we play lead us to climatic explosions that transform themselves to his placing ever tender kisses upon my lips as our mouth and tongues serve as mere instruments to pass on our desires for other acts of grandeur. It being so vivid to me in my vision of sleep how his taste does not fail to include the rose of my femininity, to inspire its moisture that it might become the flower of our mutual love. So much does occur when our passions can no longer be tamed by our conscious which limits us during the day yet sees ours take flight as legs of mine cease to be that but take on the form of wings while our bodies entwine in acts of pure sexuality that exclude not desire, lust and above all adulation.

Oh, how I could describe acts of this nature to share with those whose eyes meet with my literature yet I shall not, for my deepest fantasies I keep but to myself, to be shared with none others than my trusty diary and dear teacher; who by now has become all too aware of my dreams. It being our minds and fantasies that join our bodies in the night as to make it clear during the day that we did not only share the hours of slumber but also our desires which expressed themselves in simultaneous dreams along with explosions common to us both. Ours even being one that we have come to believe though we have never spoken about it openly that it is dreams which are the reality while the other world is but an escape from the ardent desire we so strongly share.

So much do, I desire from my dear teacher, as he does from his angel yet our lives include complications to comprise our marriages and bonds of our societies, some of which even have been created by our own minds yet in our unspoken faith; I see the day when we will break free from all to be as we are in our mutual dreams. This being a state of such grace as to bear witness to lives holding but complete harmony while expanding to include progeny. This that which I, at present can not claim to have though my womanly instincts do so desperately seek along with my dear teacher.