Johnny Pulaski Chapter 20

Posted: April 25, 2006 - 07:03:46 pm

I had another date with Elaine Thursday night after my last day of

school before Spring Break. It was a warmish spring night so I drove us

down to the beach after we ate. I parked my truck off to the side of the

closed beach approach and we walked hand in hand down along the edge of

the surf.

"Ellen and I had a long talk last night," Elaine said.

"About what?" I asked.

"About us growing up and growing apart."

"How did that go? How does Ellen feel about it? Most importantly to me,

how do you really feel about it?"

She laughed at my barrage of questions, stopped and turned to face me.

She looked up at me and I swear, at that moment, the only reason the

almost full moon was hung in the sky was to shine on her. The twins

weren't as classically beautiful as their sister Shelia, but there in

the moonlight, on the nearly deserted beach, Elaine was the prettiest

girl I ever met.

"Slow down, Honey, one question at a time. You came up in the

conversation but it wasn't about you primarily. Ellen and I talked about

growing apart as a function of us maturing. Regardless of how identical

we appear, we are different people. Those differences seem to be more

noticeable every day. We dress alike less often now and have diverging

plans for after high school. Growing apart in some ways is not that big

a deal to us because we know how much we absolutely mean to each other.

Ellen isn't as crazy about you as I am but she still wants to be a part

of your life. I agreed to that and we made a 'no jealousy pinkie swear'

concerning you."

"Which means?"

"Which means, you lucky boy, that we have decided to share you. Well,

actually, since you are mine, I decided to share you. Of course, I'll

continue to share you with Aunt Nina as long as you remember who rocks

your world, okay?"

"Yes dear," I answered stoically.

"Good answer," Elaine giggled.

Dad took me to Orlando International on Friday morning. We had to be at

the airport at six-thirty in the morning for my eight o'clock flight. I

wasn't crazy about flying on April Fool's Day, heck I wasn't crazy about

the idea of flying, no matter what day it was. Dad hung with me through

the check in process then walked me out to the security checkpoint. I

protested that he didn't have to do all that, but I was secretly glad he

did. I tried to relax and do some reading while waiting to board the

flight; it was a lost cause though, because I couldn't focus on my book;

I was too nervous and excited.

I put my book aside and when I looked around I saw a prim looking young

woman staring at me. When our eyes met she blushed and smiled embarrassedly.

"Forgive me for staring please, I'm just surprised at your choice of

reading material," she said.

I held up Nana's copy of another of James Hilton's books, this one a

yellow, dog-eared 1943 paperback titled */'Random Harvest'/*.

"This is the fourth book by this guy I've read. Once I figured out his

rhythm I began to like his style. Trouble is, I have to concentrate when

I read his work and today that's impossible." I moved into the empty

chair next to her. "My names Johnny, by the way, Johnny Pulaski."

"Thea McElroy," she responded, "I'm familiar with Mr. Hilton's work, I'm

just finishing up my Master's in English Literature. I thought that book

was his best next to */'Goodbye Mr. Chips'/* and it's very romantic."

"Really? I thought it stunk that he lost his memory and forgot his first

wife. Now all he seems to do is make money and mope around." I replied.

She beamed me a genuine smile of mirth this time. "Keep reading; you

might be surprised by what happens."

Thea and I yakked about books until it was time to board the plane. I

think she was as sorry as I was to have to stop. Luckily I caught a

break on the plane and ended up with an empty seat next to mine. Thea,

sitting in the middle seat two rows back, quickly moved up to sit next

to me. I managed to hide my nervousness as the plane taxied out on the

runway. However, as the pilot brought the engines up to full thrust and

released the brakes, I grabbed Thea's hand. When the Delta MD-88 lurched

down the tarmac and leapt off the end of the runway Thea gave my hand a

comforting squeeze. I was amazed to feel the waves of reassuring

calmness radiating from her.

Thea held my hand all the way to Atlanta. We exchanged phone numbers and

I promised to call her when I arrived in Colorado. I was blown away five

months later when I walked into Honors Lit and saw Thea sitting at the

teacher's desk. But I'm getting ahead of myself, more about that later.

I had a two-hour layover in Atlanta then flew on to Colorado Springs.

The plane touched down in the high desert plains at twelve-thirty local,

right on time. I exited the airplane with my backpack and followed the

signs to the baggage claim carousel. Katrina and I spotted each other as

I reached the bottom of the escalator. When we closed the distance

between us, she gave me a brief hug and whispered in my ear.

"I have to maintain my military bearing here, Bro, too much brass

around. I'll hug you properly when we are alone, okay?"

I nodded, escorted her to the carousel and whispered back.

"I can live with that for another few minutes because Papa said one of

his old friends was meeting us here. When I do get a chance, I'm going

to squeeze you until we are Siamese Twins."

I called Thea McElroy to let her know I arrived safely, and to thank her

again for baby-sitting me. She laughed and told me it had been a pleasure.

As Katrina and I were waiting for my bags to come down the chute someone

came up behind us.

"Excuse me, are your names Pulaski by any chance?"

We turned around and were face to face with a small wiry man. He looked

as if he were a few years younger than Papa. His gray hair was cut in a

flattop and he stood ramrod straight; there was no mistaking him for

anything but a former soldier.

"Yes sir," I said, "I'm Johnny Pulaski and this is my sister Katrina."

"Damn son, you are the spitting image of your grandfather. My names John

Blakemore, I have a car outside for you, we can leave as soon as we find

your bags."

John Blakemore turned out to be the guy who engineered the fix to

Katrina's Borkowski problem. He was the chief of public affairs for Fort

Carson and a native of the area. He led us to a white Ford Taurus

sitting in the tow away zone in front of the arriving flights doors. A

cop standing by the car gave Mr. Blakemore a jaunty salute. Blakemore

laughed and clapped the man on the shoulder then popped the trunk open

so we could stow my bags. It finally registered that Katrina was empty

handed.

"Where is your stuff, Trina? Do we have to go pick it up?"

"My bags are at the Marriott already; I checked in last night."

We piled into the sedan, Katrina sat up front riding shotgun. As soon as

our host pulled away from the curb she turned in the seat to face him.

"Which reminds me; Mr. Blakemore, you wouldn't have anything to do with

our room being upgraded to a suite by any chance, did you?"

"Call me JB, please; and I might have casually mentioned to my old

friend the manager about all the business I throw his way. Listen you

two, your grandfather is the only reason I'm around to be able to do

this. He saved my life in Vietnam and almost lost his own in the

process. Upgrading a hotel room and loaning you a car is the least I can

do."

Blakemore parked in the hotel lot next a desert camouflaged Humvee. JB

gave Katrina the keys when we were all out of the car. I grabbed my

bags, he shook our hands again, said he'd be in touch and then he roared

off in the Hummer. Katrina led the way to our suite. The suite was a

nice two room unit with a king sized bed dominating the large bedroom.

The sitting room area even had a small kitchenette. We dropped my bags

in the bedroom and I pulled Katrina into a hug.

"You can't imagine how happy I am to be here with you, Trina," I said.

She nodded her head against my chest and tightened her arms around my neck.

"I almost fainted when I saw you walking towards me, Johnny. It's almost

irrational how much I've missed you."

I gently stroked her head as she leaned against me. Katrina was in

uniform with her hair in some sort of bun on the back of her head. I

started to pull back from her but she held me even tighter.

"I don't want to let you go," she said.

I gave her a squeeze and kissed her forehead. I was feeling about a ton

of love for this incredible woman. I guess I must have radiated some of

what I felt for her because she shivered in my arms and pulled her head

back to look into my eyes.

"I feel how much you love me, Johnny, and it makes me incredibly happy

that it's so unconditional. I didn't think love like that existed. You'd

love me the same no matter what, wouldn't you?"

I moved my hands and put them on either side of her face then touched my

lips to hers. I gave her my answer in feelings as our lips barely made

contact. When I moved my head back her eyes were wide and her pupils

were fully dilated. She moistened her lips with her tongue.

"Do that again, Baby, but don't hold anything back. I want that feeling

imprinted in my brain so I'll always have it with me."

I couldn't see the harm in that so I smiled and leaned in again. This

time her lips slid against mine firmly as I concentrated on letting her

feel how I felt about her. When I broke our connection her eyes remained

closed. She sighed and leaned her head back on my chest. Being able to

hold her like that made the plane ride worth every scary moment. With

another big sigh she finally stepped out of my arms.

"How is any other guy going to be able to compete with that, Johnny?"

"It's not a competition, Trina. The right guy is going to make you feel

for him like I feel for you. I think what you give ends up making you as

happy as what you get."

"How did you get so smart about this stuff at your age? And for your

information, I do feel that way about someone — */you/*. I love you way

past sisterly, Johnny, miles and miles beyond that. You know what else?

You are the only man who has ever made me feel like a woman in my very

soul. I don't have to be tougher and smarter with you. When it comes to

you, 'no' is not in my vocabulary."

Katrina told me all that in this soft little voice that made me feel all

protective and mushy. When she set her feminine side loose she was even

more a force of nature. I don't know how long we stood there staring

into each other's eyes, and frankly, I don't care either. It was one of

the most intensely spiritual moments of my life. Finally Katrina gave

another little shiver and looked away.

"Come on, I want to show you the Academy and if we don't go right now, I

don't think I'll ever let you out of this room," she said huskily.

Man, that Air Force Academy is an amazing place. All I can say is that

we better have good pilots for the money spent educating them. It was a

beautiful campus; the cadet chapel especially impressed me. I was in awe

of the mountains that formed a backdrop to the west of the Academy. The

tallest hill I'd seen prior to today was the one hundred fifty foot tall

'trash mountain' at the landfill Papa used. Katrina pointed out Cheyenne

Mountain and the snow-capped megalith of Pike's Peak.

"We can visit Pike's Peak tomorrow if you want. We can probably drive to

the top because it hasn't snowed in over a week," she said.

We spent an hour seeing the academy then went back to the hotel. It was

almost six in the evening by the time we were back in our room. I

mentioned to Katrina that I hadn't eaten since breakfast and was

starving. She was hungry too, she said to give her a minute to change

and we'd go eat. I told her I'd wait in the other room while she changed.

"Not on you life, Sweetie," she said, "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

I leaned against the doorframe as she stripped off her uniform. She was

a vision in an aqua satin bra and thong. I admired her openly as she dug

a pair of jeans and a sweater out of the dresser. She dressed, put on

her Nikes, let her hair down and then grabbed my hand in hers.

"No one within a thousand miles of here knows you're my brother, so you

are now officially my boy friend."

I figured there were lots worse things to be, even if it was only

pretend, so I quickly agreed. We grabbed our jackets and bolted. Katrina

had done her homework for our stay; she knew exactly where to take me.

Half an hour after we left our room I was sitting in front of about four

pounds of thick t-bone, done just shy of medium. I gotta tell you right

now that sitting there with Trina and that steak was the very next best

thing to being in heaven for this country boy. Katrina gaped at me in

amazement as I demolished the t-bone while she daintily nibbled her

petite filet mignon. When I couldn't worry any more meat off the bone I

leaned back with a contented sigh.

"Jesus, Johnny, where did you put all that?"

"I told you I was a hungry trencherman. Man, that was forevermore

excellent. Can we come here for breakfast tomorrow?"

Katrina's next surprise for me was a trip to a western outfitter. She

said she had an image of me as the rugged cowboy type so she was going

to see if I could look the part. I walked out of the store dressed for

success in new boots and a tan, rolled brim cowboy hat. The hat was

okay, I could take it or leave it alone, but the boots were definitely

me. They were dark brown, hand stitched and hand tooled Justin's. They

were comfortable right out of the box. I protested the amount of money

Katrina was spending on me but she waved me off.

"I don't have anything else to spend it on Baby. Besides, you in those

boots, jeans and hat equates to how you feel about me in a miniskirt.

You're my big hunky, Polack Cowboy."

I dragged out my best John Wayne impersonation. "All right Little Missy,

I rectum I can do that," I drawled.

"Yes, you do have a nice ass," she giggled as she pinched my butt.

We took in a couple of other stores as we walked down the street.

Katrina insisted on buying me a shirt and belt to complete my ensemble.

I strenuously protested wearing one of those rodeo champion belt buckles

the size of a dinner plate, so we compromised on something smaller. I

cracked Katrina up when I told her that in this get-up I would look as

if I were heading to a Village People audition.

"We'll see tomorrow night when you take me dancing," she said.

I stashed my new clothes in the closet when we got back to the room and

loaded the sodas and snacks we'd bought into the fridge. I poured us

both a diet coke and turned on the tube while Katrina showered. I

stifled a yawn as I sat there waiting, it was only ten-thirty in

Colorado but my body was still on Eastern Time. Katrina was in and out

of the shower in ten minutes. She came in wearing one of the hotel's

big, fluffy hooded robes. She sat on the floor in front of me and handed

me her hairbrush. I gently brushed her hair as we talked about going to

Pike's Peak the next day.

I jumped into the shower at eleven. After a quick cleanup I brushed my

teeth and joined Katrina in the big king-sized bed. Katrina squeezed

herself against my side and flung her arm across my chest. She was

wearing a slinky short nightie that made her even more alluring.

"I missed this Johnny, this is where I belong," she sighed.

She had a point. I turned my head to kiss her good night. Katrina kissed

me back and before I knew what was happening our tongues were dueling

inside my mouth. I finally broke the kiss with a sigh; it was getting

harder and harder to stop.

"I love you, Trina, good night," I said.

"I love you too, Johnny, love you so much it hurts," she replied.

I woke up snuggled against the back of a beautiful woman; my hand full

of firm breast and my morning erection nestled between the silken cheeks

of a beautiful ass. I was feeling great until I remembered to whom that

breast and ass belonged. I flushed in embarrassment and started to ease

backwards. I was hoping Katrina was still asleep so she wouldn't know

what a pervert I was. As I loosened my grip on her breast her hand came

up and squeezed my fingers.

"Don't even think about moving," Katrina said sleepily.

I had to wonder who she thought was holding her. "Trina, it's me, I'm

sorry for groping you, it happened in my sleep," I whispered.

"I know who it is and you feel wonderful, now go back to sleep."

I looked at the glowing red digits on the clock radio and saw it was

only six AM. I snuggled tighter against her and fell asleep. Two hours

later Katrina woke me up with peppermint toothpaste flavored kisses.

"Time to get up, Baby, you've got a mountain to see."

I took care of my bathroom duties and dressed quickly. Katrina told me

it was going to be cold on the mountain so I wore a sweatshirt and took

my bomber jacket. We ate breakfast in the Marriott dining room and were

on the road by nine. It took a little over an hour to reach the mountain

and a careful thirty-five minutes to make it to the summit. Even though

my breathing was labored from the altitude and it was as cold as a rat's

ass, I wouldn't have missed the experience for the world. We ate lunch

at the Summit House and hung out on the mountain until it closed at

three. It was easy to see what inspired Katharine Lee Bates to write

*/'America the Beautiful'/* after seeing the breath-taking panoramic vistas.

We were back at the hotel by four-thirty. We took a little nap to

recover from the cold, rarified atmosphere up on the mountain. It was

like old times when Katrina stripped down to her undies and plastered

herself against me. Katrina woke me up again that evening at six the

same way she'd awakened me that morning, with gentle hugs and sweet

kisses. She had already showered and was in the hooded robe again. She

stood at the sink and blow-dried her hair while I showered. When I

exited the shower she was in the bedroom getting something out of her

suitcase. When I was dry and in the other hotel robe, she handed me my

clothes, shooed me into the sitting room and closed the door.

I put on my new duds and checked myself in the mirror. I didn't look

that bad, all things considered. The shirt Katrina picked out for me was

white with a couple of different colors of purple stripes; it fit me

loosely even though it was the right size. The salesman at the clothing

store said that western cut clothes were cut so a cowboy had room to

move in them. The belt we compromised on was braided brown leather, the

same color as my boots, and had a silver buckle. I tried on the hat,

sitting it on top of my dome different ways. I couldn't decide how I

should wear it so I left that decision up to Katrina. I was wearing a

pair of my own Levis; they were snug but not plum hugger tight.

I was watching the History Channel when the bedroom door opened and

Katrina walked out. I glanced her way and did a double take. Katrina was

a cowboy's wet dream in a short full denim skirt, calf high tan cowgirl

boots, and a pink t-shirt with darker pink, glittery writing on it. The

shirt said */'save a horse, ride a cowboy'/* and hugged her torso as if

it were a coat of spray paint. Because her stomach was so flat, her

medium sized breasts looked even larger. Her hair fell to her shoulders

and flipped up at the ends; her make up was subtle, highlighting her

large blue eyes and high cheekbones.

"You like?" she asked coyly.

I nodded, unable to find my tongue yet. She giggled and grabbed my hand.

"You look hot too; come on, let's go show each other off."

Again, I answered her with an idiotic nod. We snagged our jackets out of

the closet and headed for the elevator. We drew a lot of looks as we

exited the crowded lobby. I knew it was Katrina that was drawing the

attention as she strolled regally along holding my arm. Katrina really

had a sexy walk in those boots, her chin was held high and her cute

compact butt swayed with each gliding step. She was a blonde Elle

McPherson with a cowgirl attitude.

Katrina drove us in the opposite direction from Pike's Peak about twenty

miles out into the high desert. On a deserted stretch of highway we

suddenly came upon a huge honky-tonk called the Whiskey River. She

pulled into the parking lot; the Taurus conspicuously out of place among

the four-wheel drive pickup trucks and massive SUVs. I was a more than a

little dubious about the place but Katrina rolled the brim of my hat to

her liking, pulled it down so that it rode low over my eyes, stuck her

arm through mine and we walked in as if we owned the place. An older

lady dressed as Dale Evans was sitting on a bar stool just inside the

door. She asked if she could help us.

"John Blakemore said to tell you he sent us. We'd like to eat and maybe

dance some," Katrina said.

The woman's face lit up in a bright smile as she slipped nimbly off the

stool.

"I'm Naomi, JB told me to expect you; any friend of his is a friend of

mine. Let me get you seated. You have plenty of time to eat; the band

doesn't start until ten."

The inside of Whiskey River was as cavernous as an airplane hanger. We

walked by the bandstand and dance floor out into a sea of tables. Off to

the left there was a bar with a couple of pool tables and the obligatory

mechanical bull. To the rear were sets of double doors with waiters and

waitresses ducking in and out carrying trays of food. To the right was a

long service bar with three bartenders and a slew of cocktail waitresses

in saloon girl garb. The place was about seventy-five percent filled,

which equaled at least three hundred people. Naomi seated us and told us

to enjoy.

We were seated family style at a big round table; I took off my hat and

looked around. The clientele was a mixed crowd, from families with small

children to elderly people. The only thing everyone had in common was

their western attire. Katrina introduced us to the family sharing the

table with us.

"Hi, I'm Katrina and this is my boyfriend, Johnny."

"Hello, I'm Susan Richardson, and this is my husband Clinton, our

daughter Amy and our son Clint, Junior."

Clinton Richardson was a tall, rawboned man with a deeply weathered

face. I guessed him to be in his forties. Susan was a few years younger,

she was a little plump but she had a pleasant face that radiated good

humor. Amy was a tall, slender, dark haired girl about my age and Clint

was a lanky fourteen year old. Both of the teens were shy and quiet. The

Richardsons hadn't ordered yet so Katrina and I studied the one page

menu. The menu had five items on it; all cuts of beef in small, medium

and large. With the meat you got a baked potato. The other sides were

served in bowls for the table to share: pineapple coleslaw, garlic

bread, Colorado caviar (pinto beans, ground beef and chili peppers) and

a big jug of iced tea. It was my kind of place!

When the food arrived I temporarily dropped out of the conversation as I

paid homage to the noble creature that sacrificed its life for my

enjoyment. The steak was so big my potato wouldn't fit on the same

platter and came on a separate dish. I was having thoughts about moving

out here just for the grub. We finished eating and sat and gabbed with

the Richardsons as the waitress efficiently cleaned off our table and

collected for the meal. At about a quarter to ten the band started

tuning up and the house lights dimmed over the main dining area.

Just like that, Whiskey River converted into a dance club. Most of the

tables were filled by now and buxom cocktail waitresses were weaving in

between the tables carrying trays with pyramids of Coors and Coors Light

cans. I asked Clinton how the waitresses knew who was old enough to

serve and he showed me a stamp on the back of his hand. Whoever owned

this place had streamlined the operation into an efficient machine. I

was willing to bet that at the slightest hint of trouble, bouncers the

size of Volkswagens would materialize out of the woodwork.

My ass kissed my chair goodbye when the band started playing at ten.

Katrina stuck my hat back on my head and pulled me out onto the dance

floor with a whoop. Damn I loved seeing her that happy. Her joyful élan

helped me get over my awkwardness as I learned the country-western swing

dancing everyone seemed to be doing so effortlessly. Katrina, of course,

already knew the steps; in no time she had me passably negotiating my

way around the floor. We danced through a couple of songs then headed

back to our table for a drink. The elder Richardsons were out on the

dance floor and Amy and Clint were at another table with some of their

friends. Katrina let me sit out one song then hauled me back out on the

floor just in time for the first slow dance of the evening. Katrina

wrapped her arms around my neck and plastered herself tight against me.

"This is so perfect, Johnny, I couldn't dream anything better."

I had to agree; I squeezed her briefly and kissed her hair.

We danced until midnight then headed back home. Katrina had me drive;

she sat in the center of the seat next to me. I had my right arm around

her shoulder as she leaned against me. We drove along in silence for a

minute then she pulled my arm from around her.

"I almost forgot Baby, I have a surprise for you," she said.

She took my hand and put it on her thigh then pulled it upward under her

skirt. My fingers traced smoothly along her nylons then suddenly hit

bare skin.

'Yep, thigh highs," she giggled.

"Damn girl, I'm gonna want to see them as soon as we get back to the hotel!"

"I think a personal viewing can be arranged, my handsome cowboy," she

said huskily.

We rode all the way back to the Marriott with my hand comfortably

resting on her muscular thigh. I guess there might have been some sexual

aspect to me absent-mindedly stroking her silken skin but it wasn't

conscious, know what I mean? I was just enjoying the closeness.

It was almost one in the morning when we tumbled into our room. I

untucked my shirt and kicked off my boots while Katrina went to the

bathroom. I was sitting on the couch fiddling with the television remote

when Katrina cleared her throat from the bedroom door. I turned my head

toward the sound of her voice and I swear I was going to get whiplash

from all the double takes she was causing me. Katrina was posed in the

doorway, just as she had been at our grandparents' house. She had on the

baby doll outfit I'd given her for Christmas but this time she was

wearing it boldly. In addition to the nightie, she was wearing the thigh

highs I'd felt earlier. When she had my undivided attention she did that

runway model strut of hers over to where I sat. I scooted over so she

could sit down but she surprised me by dropping gracefully into my lap.

"We have to talk about you touching me," she said.

I snatched my hand off her knee. "Sorry Trina," I mumbled.

She laughed and grabbed my hand placing it firmly high on her thigh.

"You are so clueless! I meant, you need to touch me more. No one has

touched me in months and even then it sucked. With you it's different; I

crave your hands on me."

Wow, this was getting sticky. I just blurted out the truth instead of

dancing around the issue. "I don't know if I could stop once I started,

Trina. You are a beautiful woman and I guess I must be some sort of

pervert because you turn me on a whole lot."

"You most certainly aren't a pervert. I've teased you mercilessly and

you have behaved yourself like a gentleman. Besides, maybe I don't want

you to stop, did you ever think of that? I told you a couple of nights

ago that I would never say no to you about anything you wanted."

I swear my mind was turning to mush as she sat there squirming in my

lap. She wasn't making decision making any easier either as she nibbled

on my earlobe. I don't think that my reluctance to go further with

Katrina had anything to do with the incest zeitgeist; I think I was

hesitant because I really and truly loved her. Does that make sense?

Probably not, so let me put it another way. I was positive that sex with

Katrina would be magnitudes beyond anything I'd ever experienced and I'm

just as sure it would be spectacular for her also. But then what? We

couldn't exactly get married and live happily ever after and I didn't

see us as ever being a one-night stand. What price would we pay later

for a fling now? I wasn't about to chance finding the answer to that

last question, but maybe Katrina had given me a way to wriggle off the hook.

Okay, before you nominate me for canonization, I probably could have

come up with plenty of perfectly valid reasons for us not to escalate

our relationship. And any one of those reasons might have prevented what

happened next. But you know what? The girl I literally worshipped for

the last six years, the woman I thought represented the pinnacle of

female perfection, had just offered herself to me. It took every ounce

of Pulaski self-control I possessed to keep from taking her up on her

offer. Instead, I slipped my arm under her knees and stood up. Katrina

squealed and wrapped her arms tightly around my neck.

"I can do that, Trina, touch you more I mean. All you have to do is

promise me that you'll stop me if anything I do makes you uncomfortable."

Katrina nodded her head against my chest. "Okay, Baby, but I can't see

that ever happening, not in a million years."

I carried her the few steps to the bedroom and deposited her gently on

top of the goose down duvet. She lay motionless, her eyes boring into

mine as I stripped down to my briefs and crawled up onto the bed with

her. Her breath hissed through her teeth as I slipped my hand under the

loose fitting top of her baby doll and caressed her flat muscular

stomach. I slid my hand upwards until it bumped against the bottom of

her breast. Using just my fingertips, I moved my hand between her

proudly up thrust breasts, the elastic of the top tight against the back

of my hand. I paused then, my conscience yammering that I should quit

what I was doing. Katrina sensed my indecision, and with a moan, reached

up and pushed my hand onto her breast.

"Don't stop, Johnny, no one has ever felt that good touching me."

I nodded and squeezed her breast lightly. What was truly unique about

Katrina's mounds was how they stood so firm; her nipples pointed skyward

even when she was lying on her back. I suppose that the strength and

development of the underlying muscles accounted for that. I used my

other hand and pushed the top toward her neck exposing both her

treasures. Katrina rose up slightly and whipped the flimsy garment over

her head. Now naked, except for the tiny thong that came with the

outfit, she fell back onto the bed.

I sat beside her and really looked at her body for the first time. Sure,

I'd seen her this undressed before, but those were casual glimpses. I

hadn't stared at her then. Now though, she was naked with the expressed

intent that I see and touch her to my hearts content. Katrina's body

wasn't most men's ideal, but it was one that other women would kill for.

Fortuitous genetics had gifted her with a tall, slender frame; years of

strenuous exercise had covered that frame with sleek muscle. Katrina's

torso tapered nicely down to her tiny waist then flared out gently to

her narrow hips. Below her hips her legs seemed to go on forever.

Because her legs were so long and muscular, they seemed almost skinny.

Katrina broke the spell of my reverent inspection.

"Now that you've memorized it, get your hands back on me," she said,

only half teasing.

"I've only memorized the front, roll over so I can see the rest," I replied.

Katrina did as I asked, pulling a pillow underneath her head. I think I

loved this view of her the best because her tightly muscled bubble butt

stuck up so enticingly. I traced my fingers down her back and stopped to

pay homage to that glorious ass. I felt her shiver and her legs spread

as I reached her thighs; the room was starting to fill with the heady

musk of her arousal. Looking at those perfect globes, I couldn't resist

leaning forward and planting a kiss on the nearest one. Katrina

shuddered as my lips and tongue traveled across the deep crevasse that

separated her cheeks. I felt her muscles clinch as she ground herself

down against the bed.

"Oh God, I'm coming Johnny," she yipped as she hunched her hips.

I continued to kiss and caress her back and butt as she came down from

her climax. When she was relaxed I pulled back the covers and she rolled

over under them. I slipped under the covers and reached over to kill the

bedside light. I was feeling good about myself, and the adroit manner in

which I'd defused the situation, when I felt Katrina wiggle around next

to me. Then all of the sudden she was on top of me, her lips on mine,

her tongue spearing deeply into my mouth. When she had finished sucking

the air from my lungs she raised herself up on her extended arms.

"That was really nice, Baby. I can't ever remember coming just from

foreplay. But you aren't finished yet, all you did was get me started."

To emphasis her point, she put her wet, wadded up thong into my hand

then reached down and grabbed the Mighty Kong.

/Edited by Bert/
Joe J
Chapter 21