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Sweet Dreams are Made of These
by Innuendo (keepsake411@yahoo.com)

***

Sometimes reality is better than any fantasy the mind 
can build, and sometimes you just have to hold onto the 
dream and pray that you never wake up. (MF, 1st, rom, 
fantasy)

***

Starting the Year With a Bang

Chapter: January

"Hey, asshole."

Isn't it funny how some things never change? First and 
last impression like mirror images. Those were the first 
words Greg Bartels had ever spoken to him, and despite 
not having seen the guy for nearly two years, were the 
first to spill out of his mouth again. It wasn't 
unexpected, but Jahn hadn't liked the guy since the 
beginning; he came off a cocky bastard who had none of 
the physique to back up the unspoken threats of violence 
that he seemed to carry with him. Bartels just carried 
the unpleasant demeanor of someone who would happily 
pick a fight and make a miserable ear-biting mess of it. 
The kind of scrappy little prick who might lose the 
fight, but would guarantee you regretted ever being in 
it.

The man had a problem, though in perspective Jahn really 
couldn't blame him. It wasn't just any problem. It was 
Andrea. Jahn's girlfriend, Greg's girlfriend. Doing the 
math, it added up to, "What the fuck?"

Any man would leap at the chance to hook a woman like 
Andrea. Nice rack, nice legs, nice ass, hell – nice 
everything, for anyone who was into just the surface. 
That, and more – Andrea Dunlap was the total package: 
looks, brains, and money, most of which she'd built by 
hard work and simple determination that life owed her 
something, and that she was gonna take by the balls if 
it wasn't given to her. Unfortunately she was also a bit 
of a bitch, as if she felt she had to live up to some 
sort of ice queen stereotype. 

Years ago, he'd made the first move, prepared for 
outright rejection, and had been pleasantly surprised 
when she'd said yes to a date. From that point on, he 
was smitten. Perspective was the watchword, he guessed. 
Little things could be overlooked. Her materialistic 
outlook could be forgiven; he had enough money to afford 
nice gifts now and then. A lack of physical intimacy 
other than the occasional blowjob could also be ignored, 
as she'd made it clear that she was waiting for 
marriage. When it came right down to it, Jahn Halvers 
wanted to be the guy she married.

"I'm so sorry for all the things I put you through, she 
whispers to him, green eyes swimming with regret. Can 
you ever forgive me? Andrea lifted her arms beseechingly 
to him from where she knelt, sheer robe falling back on 
her arms, exposing that beautiful flesh she always kept 
so well hidden behind pretty clothes and sparkling 
jewelry. Make love to me, and say that everything will 
be alright?"

Then Greg showed up, and everything had been fucked up 
ever since. Despite the man's desire to take a swing at 
Jahn, Andrea had shown up for her date with him at just 
the right time, and the Tough Guy demeanor fell apart. 
All of a sudden, she was sweet-talking the pair of them 
like a car salesman, and before they knew it, both men 
had walked away convinced that their expectations of 
what was clearly a casual relationship were utterly 
wrong, and they should be more accepting of Andrea's 
lack of commitment. In retrospect, he also got the 
impression that maybe she'd manipulated things so that 
she could play off the inevitable competitiveness that 
had sprung up between them. 

But that was hindsight. Here on New Year's Eve, dateless 
in some dump of a bar, he couldn't help but think he'd 
lost whatever head-butting contest they had going on. 
All the jewelry and gifts, romantic dinners and 
overtures, all of it had counted for exactly shit. He 
wasn't a drinker, hadn't ever been drunk in his life, 
but goddamnit, he was ready to tie one on and call an 
end to this bullshit year. Even the solace of that self-
pitying thought was interrupted, however, by the ringing 
of his cell.

"Hey, asshole." The words came out in a slur, and it was 
pretty obvious not only who the caller was, but that he 
was well into his own bottle.

Annoyed, he snapped off, "Not really interested in 
whatever shit you've cooked up for me, Greg. What is 
it?"

A pause and then the rough slurring continued. "Just 
called'a tell ya Andy's all yours. I'm tired'a gettin 
ditched like this, and I really, I wanna spend my 
holidays with someone what ackshully gives a shit." 

Shocked, he responded, "Thought she was with you 
tonight? Told me she had other plans..." Silence met his 
reply, and he thought Greg had either hung up or passed 
out. 

"Wha tha fuck. Anotha asshole?"

Probably, he thought, anger rising like bile. "No idea. 
She's had better things to do for the holidays."

"Y'know, just ain't worth it anymore. Y'know how much 
money I blown on that bitch, tryn'a to getter ta love 
me, y'know? It'sh, it's like tryn'a hug a block'a wood. 
Y'know?"

That was one too many "y'knows" for Jahn, and he 
replied, "Yeah, I think I do know. I'm done with it too. 
Think I'll stop by her office tomorrow and drop the good 
news."

A coughing bark of laughter greeted that, "Yeah, that'll 
piss'er off. I might just do that too. Later, asshole." 

Dead air. He considered that Greg might actually try to 
use the opportunity to get clear with Andrea but did he 
really care? No, he supposed he didn't. Andrea had been 
serving them both a steaming pile on a shiny silver 
platter for nearly a year now. Ready for something new. 
Staring at the glass in his hand, he made his 
resolution.

Give the little bastard credit. He had followed through. 
When Jahn arrived at Andrea's office, she'd had a sullen 
look on her face that did nothing to complement her 
looks, and it was a look that also meant she'd failed to 
get her way on something serious. The little things 
didn't matter to her – she wormed her way around them. 
Like water on the window, the expression slipped away as 
Jahn walked in. Perhaps she thought he'd heard about 
their confrontation and was there to be her shoulder to 
lean on. Again. How fitting.

Being an asshole about it hadn't strictly been 
necessary, and the smugnesss probably blared a little 
too loudly on his face. Before he was done announcing 
their split, she dissolved into screaming hysterics that 
followed him all the way to the other side of the office 
floor. Never expected that out of her, he thought, with 
a self-satisfied grin.

"Ugly split?" The voice came at him from nowhere, and he 
turned, startled to find himself face to face – well, 
chest to face, with a rather short woman he was sure 
he'd met before. Short, but very attractive, he thought. 
Petite figure, smaller breasts, but fantastic legs, and 
shoulder-length brown hair. Freya? Freida? Oh yeah, the 
high cheekbones. "Fiona from Accounting, right?"

"Of course I recognize you, Fiona sighed. I haven't been 
able to stop thinking about you since the last time we 
met. Her slender fingers stray to the buttons of a silk 
vest, fabric slipping soundlessly aside expose her 
breasts. Have you been thinking of me?"

Fiona smiled, lips curving in pleasure that he'd 
remembered. They'd only met a few times during his 
visits to the office. "That would be me. And you're 
Jahn... Andrea's former boyfriend, if the screams are 
any indicator?"

Suddenly, the whole scene seemed a little awkward and 
not quite as satisfying. "Yeah," he said, somewhat 
embarrassed. "I think I had a little too much fun with 
the break-up."

"Understandable. The other one was here earlier. Don't 
know his name."

"That would be Greg," he muttered. More awkward by the 
minute. Perhaps he was justified in being a jerk, but he 
was also now the guy whose girlfriend had been cheating 
on him. He'd considered for a second that he might like 
to ask Fiona out, but now...

"You don't need to be embarrassed about it. Everyone 
here knows what kind of person Andrea is: total user. 
Still, she does her job, and does it well enough that 
nobody's going to complain as long as she keeps making 
the company money." 

Nothing he shouldn't already have realized, he supposed, 
mentally kicking himself again for taking so long to 
figure it out. The brunette interrupted his internal 
self-abuse with a hopeful "Maybe you'd like to go out 
sometime, now that you're free?" Realizing that had come 
out poorly, she tried to backtrack, "Not to sound like 
an opportunist or spiteful or anything..." 

Jahn laughed. "No, I'd love to. Time to move on. How 
'bout dinner?" Inwardly, he speculated that he probably 
didn't need another girlfriend so soon, but he couldn't 
let Andrea wreck any chance of having a normal 
relationship with women. He wasn't bad-looking, pale and 
almost effeminately slender, but he'd only ever met a 
few women forward enough to make the first move. He 
should probably enjoy the opportunity while it presented 
itself. Besides, even with the appreciative look she was 
giving him, it was probably a bit... no, face it: a lot 
premature to think Fiona would be interested in anything 
beyond the first date.

Dinner was an enjoyable affair, and he found he really 
did like this one. Fiona had a quick intellect, worldly 
and insightful in a way that was utterly different from 
his ex's sharp and calculating mind. While not as hot as 
Andrea (he knew that was an unfair standard, because 
very few women were) the accountant was fresh and 
pretty, far less severe and not so hard-edged that you 
were afraid they might cut you if you put a finger 
wrong. 

In fact, she seemed to dig him as well, but would trail 
off from something she was saying in a way that he was 
sure meant she was distracted by other thoughts. Was he 
boring her, or was she trying to figure out whether he 
was interested in her? He could empathize with the 
awkwardness, as it'd been far too long since he'd been 
on a date last and he just couldn't work out the signals 
she was sending. God only knew if he could actually pull 
off proper flirting anymore without coming off as a 
complete tool.

When they'd finished eating, Fiona invited him back to 
her house to watch a movie, and his heart did 
somersaults in his chest. Was he going to get lucky 
already?!? 

Slow down, idiot, he cautioned himself. It's just dinner 
and a movie. 

Her house was surprisingly large, two stories, maybe 
three or four bedrooms, if in somewhat poor repair. Jahn 
supposed it was the family home, one she'd inherited 
from her parents, and asked her about it. The answer was 
a mumbled response, and he turned his attention from the 
wheel briefly enough to realize that she was scowling at 
a sporty little car sitting in the driveway. Oh shit, he 
thought. Does she live with her parents? This was gonna 
be a short, uneventful evening, he lamented inwardly.

Their entry into the house was greeted by the blare of a 
television in the living room and a lilting voice that 
came from a blonde head just above the couch, "Left-over 
take out on the table if you want it."

Still scowling, Fiona coughed pointedly, saying 
"Company."

The blonde mane whirled around and wide blue eyes stared 
at him, immediately followed by a yelped, "Shit!" as the 
girl sitting there popped up like a jack-in-the box and 
fled for a staircase that led up to the second floor. A 
treat – the girl, whoever she was, was wearing ass-
hugging jeans and nothing but a bra that emphasized a 
sizable bust.

Fiona snorted under her breath, "Jeezus Jenny," and 
moved towards the kitchen to begin clearing a bunch of 
take-out cartons from the table.

"Housemate?" he speculated after he'd hung his jacket by 
the door and joined her, enjoying the view as she leaned 
over put some dirty silver into the dishwasher. 

"I should be so lucky." After dumping the remainder of 
the trash, she turned her attention back to him. "She's 
my sister."

He raised an eyebrow. The brief glimpse he'd caught 
didn't indicate they looked anything alike, but you 
never knew. "Wouldn't have guessed by looking."

"Because her tits are so much smaller than mine?" piped 
up a high voice from behind him, startling him shitless. 
As he turned, he saw Fiona raise a middle finger at her 
sister, and flush slightly in embarrassment when she saw 
that he'd noticed her doing it.

He was greeted by a lovely spectacle: the blonde girl 
leaning against the doorway with a wide grin, arms 
crossed beneath her breasts, wasn't much taller... or 
older for that matter... than her sister, but had a 
spectacular figure, nice hips and breasts complemented 
by a slim waist and toned limbs. Unlike the tan skin of 
her sister, she was pale, with lovely blonde hair that 
looked natural. Lips pursed in thought, she stared at 
him with intent blue eyes for a moment, before speaking. 
"Half-sister. The better half, of course. Older, wiser, 
prettier and all that."

"And we share everything, the nameless blonde tittered 
at him suggestively. Would you like to watch?"

"Only by a year," came the retort from behind him. 
"Yeah, yeah," the blonde laughed. "You haven't failed to 
remind me of that ever since you finally got old enough 
to buy your own booze." Jahn got the distinct impression 
that Fiona was the more mature of the two, whatever 
their age.

"I'm Jenny, or Jen if you like. Are you into 
Scientology?"

Baffled by the question, he blurted out, "The fuck? Not 
in this lifetime..." She seemed to be making fun of him, 
but he didn't get it. 

"How about acting?" Frowning, he shook his head at her 
question. Seeing that he was taking the question 
seriously, she laughed at him. "I'm just teasing. You 
look kind of like a young Tom Cruise, except skinnier."

"Oh." The light dawned. "Scientology? Fuck you." She 
raised a hand to her mouth, stifling a giggle, and said 
to Fiona, "Yeah, I bet you picked him up just because of 
that, didn't you, sis?, then turned her attention back 
to him, "She totally had a crush on him in Top Guns even 
though he's like, insanely old now."

He turned his attention back to his actual date, 
expecting to the scowl to have turned into something 
angrier, but was amused to find her grinning at Jenny. 
"Maybe I did. And maybe we should pull all those old 
posters out and see how many of the same ones you have, 
hmmm?" Jenny's pale cheeks reddened, and she muttered 
something that was probably meant to be a scathing 
response, but was inaudible. 

The back-and-forth banter petered out from there, and so 
did Fiona's good mood. He wondered if he'd been ogling 
her sister without checking himself or something. When 
the movie finished, he was surprised to receive a 
lingering peck on the cheek, and an indication she'd be 
up for a second date later. He liked her, and hoped it 
would go further from there – she had the kind of lively 
intelligence and acerbic wit that promised engaging 
dates and at least a shared interest in what was being 
discussed, rather than elaborate sighs and thinly veiled 
condescension. 

They even had a few interests in common that she could 
go on for hours about on the phone. Maybe he could take 
her on a bike tour to photograph some of the local 
landmarks if he could keep her interest that long until 
the weather got nice again.
 
That hope seemed to be doomed. Oh sure, he got the 
second date after a week of cell tag, but there was a 
definite disconnect with her over the course of their 
conversation, as if she had more important things on her 
mind. Evening's end, he finally decided to dispense with 
the guesswork, preferring to move on to greener pastures 
if she wasn't interested. After he'd voiced his concern, 
she gave him an apologetic smile. "It's not you, just 
me. I've a lot of... work-related stuff rolling around 
in my brain. Let's go out again sometime, okay?" 

Jahn gave a grunt of assent that earned him another 
lingering kiss on the cheek, but his heart really wasn't 
in it. Not you, just me. The kiss of death, the kissing 
cousin to Mr. Friend Zone. Just his luck.

Staring at his computer, watching animated robots beat 
each other to death, he wondered just what the hell was 
wrong with him. At least a few women dug his looks. He 
wasn't rich, but he had money, a car, employment, an 
apartment, and most important in his eyes, a big dick. 
What's this bullshit, mainstream media, he thought 
crossly. According to you and the porno mags, panties 
should be dropping like flies whenever I walk into the 
room. 

Instead, he kept getting stuck with girls who didn't 
seem interested even in the things that women supposedly 
dug, like romance and relationships. At one point, he 
wanted nothing more than to get married to Andrea, raise 
a few kids and live a model suburban life. It might not 
be exciting, but it was a pleasant future. The way 
things were going, he'd probably just replaced Andrea 
with a counterpart that would spend the next couple 
years-

The buzz of his cell phone caught his attention. A deft 
flip of the cover revealed - a call from the Reed 
residence. Sighing, he opened the call, and said "Hey 
Fiona, what's up?"

"Hey Jahn, this is Jen!" Oh, well that was unexpected. 
"Everything okay over there? Didn't realize you had my 
number." There was silence on the other end for a 
moment, and he thought he'd lost the connection. 

"Oh, you're on our whiteboard with all our other 
contacts. I just wondered, well... are you and Fiona 
still dating?"

Man, what an awkward question that was. Carefully, he 
said, "No idea, really. She doesn't seem all that 
interested in me, but... okay, I gotta admit, this is a 
weird conversation. Maybe I'm just old-fashioned but, is 
it normal to ask something like that these days?" 

"Ummm," came her voice over the phone, sounding as if 
she were hedging. "Maybe not. But I noticed that she'd 
stopped calling you all the time and I think you guys 
only dated once or twice anyway, right? I was thinking 
that if the two of you weren't still going out, you 
might like to go out for coffee or something with me 
sometime?"

"Oh, sure, I don't see any problem with that. Like I 
said, I get the impression that I'm not her type."

In a voice that seemed, at least to his hyper-active 
imagination, dripping with innuendo, "You're definitely 
_my_ type, Jahn." Yea, he thought hysterically. That's 
what she said. Holy shit, not even a daydream. Or was 
it? Fuck.

The week that followed was like a drug-induced dream 
sequence. Not only did they hit it off on the first 
date, but Jenny couldn't seem to get enough of his 
presence, and had an idea for something new each day. 
After a bite out, it was the Solarium one night, a movie 
the next, a fancy dinner, she kept coming up with stuff. 
He was baffled to find himself agreeing to go to play 
laser-tag with her.. Andrea would probably have kicked 
him in the teeth for coming up with something like that. 
And all that time together, it might have been tedious 
with anyone else, but Jenny was genuinely –fun- to be 
around, making stuff he ordinarily would have disliked 
or been bored shitless by, an entertaining experience. 

She came off as naοve one moment, dropping an incredibly 
dirty joke the next. Bright and cheery, the blonde 
exuded charm and personality the way her sister seemed 
to radiate intelligence and wit. You couldn't call her 
bubbly or vapid, like some sort of stereotypical blonde, 
because she was better than that, smart enough to hold 
her own in conversation if chatter strayed in that 
direction. Still, she was one of those people who lived 
in the moment, taking everything life had to offer.

She'd even convinced him to go dancing, practically 
dragging him to the club, even though he'd desperately 
attempted to convince her that he had no idea how, and 
probably didn't have the dexterity to pull it off. Yet 
here he was, bouncing around to a beat by some hip hop 
star he'd never heard of, throwing his hands up in the 
air like he just didn't care. Fuck almighty. The blonde 
danced, and kissed, and danced some more like it was 
going out of style.

That's how it was with Jenny – a virtual roller-coaster 
ride, free-wheeling straight up one hill and screaming 
down into the next valley. A corner of him nursed a 
grudge, wondering why he'd wasted so much time when 
there were women like this. Women, yeah: no matter how 
girlish or immature Jenny acted, everything about her 
was every bit her age, just cast in sunshine shadows. 
Like paradox, except it worked for her.

As the evening wound down, melting into what seemed to 
him a clumsy slow dance, Jenny nestled into his 
shoulder, whispering flirtatiously into his ear, 
"Y'know, I'm still a virgin. Want to pop my cherry?"

Startled, caught completely off-guard in fact, he 
blurted out, "Bullshit!" It seemed inevitable that the 
topic of sex would come 'round with her, as she'd 
dropped more than a few hints, but he knew that she'd 
have to make the first move. Jenny was great, he didn't 
want to train-wreck what was turning out to be an 
outstanding friendship just for a single night. Oh sure, 
he wanted her – she always wore clothing that 
accentuated her curvy figure spectacularly, shirts that 
showed off her large breasts, pants and skirts that 
hugged her hips, and she possessed an undercurrent of 
sexuality that he felt sure indicated far more 
experience than he had. Virgin? No way.

Pulling back, she scowled up at him. "What's that 
supposed to mean?"

Back-pedaling lamely in his skull, he grasped wildly 
about for an explanation, then realized the easiest way 
was the obvious: "Seriously, you're twenty-four, 
incredibly sexy and have an amazing personality. I can't 
believe that you've never had a boyfriend who wouldn't 
leap at the chance to fuck you. Uh, not to be crude or 
anything..."

Jenny didn't seem to catch that last bit, her cheeks 
flushing slightly with embarrassment. "I've had 
boyfriends. They just never seem to stick around long 
enough to get to... that."

"Okay, fair eno- wait, you've never actually done the 
deed, but you talk dirtier than a lot of guys I know. 
How does that work?" As soon as the words came out of 
his mouth, he realized how stupid they sounded, and 
those pretty blue eyes narrowed. 

"I'm not dumb, you know. I've watched porn, I know how 
it all works." Too much info, and she realized it, but 
blew it off with a laugh. "Yeah, now you know my dirty 
little secret." Tracing a finger underneath his chin, 
she asked challengingly, "What're you gonna do about 
it?"

Sweet merciful Jenny, he was off the hook at last, but 
having another piece of bait dangled in his face. "Seems 
like the only sensible thing to do would be to take you 
somewhere and fuck you senseless." An approving smile 
crossed her face, until he continued, "Want to make a 
date of it for the weekend?"

A trace of her irritation resurfaced. "You're making me 
wait? I don't just go around offering myself up to just 
anybody - you know that I had to work myself up to 
propositioning you like that, right?"

He raised a hand defensively, "Just exhausted from 
throwing myself around all evening, and the alcohol's 
not sitting easy. It would kind of suck to pass out 
before I can even enjoy ravishing the hot little virgin 
offering herself to me so willingly."

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Smooth talker. You're lucky I 
really, really like you."

"And that I look a little bit like a certain actor from 
days gone by?"

"Especially that," she confirmed. "You better have 
something _really_ special planned." With a sharp 
fingernail, she punctuated her point on his chest.

"Okay," she laughed. "You had me going there for a bit. 
When you said "hotel" I totally figured you meant some 
sleazy little joint. This is really nice," she said 
critically, examining the Mariolille's spacious lobby, 
replete with upscale furnishings. It definitely was, but 
he didn't like the leer on the receptionist's face, as 
if the greasy little shit knew exactly what he and Jenny 
were up to. Sure, it was probably obvious, but whatever 
happened to service with a smile rather than a smirk?

Jenny gawked in disbelief when they got to the suite 
he'd booked for the weekend. Every bit as open as the 
main lobby, the room seemed to be a perfect arrangement 
of bed, Jacuzzi and wet bar, with all the accessories 
one could possibly need for any of them. This was a 
special occasion and he hadn't seen fit to spare 
expense.

"Wow," she said, turning to him, blue eyes wide. "You're 
totally forg-" Pressing forward into her, he slipped his 
arms around her waist and lowered his mouth to hers., 
The comic 'o' of surprise on her pursed red lips begged 
for kissing. Whatever else might be said of him, he knew 
he could kiss like a roguish devil straight out of the 
black and whites, damn it, so he went in for the kill. 
Eager and responsive, she melted into it, letting him 
take the lead. 

When he finally broke the kiss, she gasped slightly and 
was about to say something when he grasped her more 
firmly about the midriff and hefted her up over his 
shoulder. Not an easy task, since he was no body 
builder, but he managed it without dropping her, and a 
squeal of startled laughter indicated he was doing it 
right.

Carrying the slender blonde to the bed, he hefted her 
onto it in an effort that left him somewhat breathless 
from exertion rather than arousal. He was in full-on 
mode, though, no chance of that slowing him down. Moving 
into the bed beside her, he slipped his arms around her 
again, and hooked his fingers into her shirt, pulling it 
up over her breasts. 

Grinning like a fiend, she accommodated him, raising her 
arms, so that he could pull it up over her head, her 
large breasts spilling free. No bra, thankfully, because 
he doubted he could have managed the fastenings the way 
the adrenaline was pumping. Taking a moment, he leaned 
back and admired the view of her pale breasts, tipped 
with stiff pink nipples. 

"You can admire them later, you jerk. Stop screwing 
around!" she protested. With a resigned sigh that earned 
him a giggle, he moved in again, unsnapping the button 
on her skirt, and sliding it down her toned legs. No 
panties either, and she'd shaved her down there. Lying 
before him, she spread her legs to bare the moist flower 
that lay between them with all the eagerness in which 
she'd kissed him. He fiddled awkwardly with his belt for 
a moment, then gave up and got off the bed.

She watched, lips pursed in a hungry smile as he quickly 
took off his shirt, jeans and underwear, revealing his 
personal pride and joy, fully erect. Confusion and 
irritation crossed her face as he began digging around 
in his pockets, until he pulled out the condom. Jenny 
looked somewhat more understanding, but shook her head. 
"Don't worry about it, I'm on the pill." He tossed the 
condom aside flippantly and slid back into the bed.

Through the windowed balcony behind him, the sun had 
begun to set, casting the room with its flaming orange 
and violet hues. Under other circumstances, he might 
have liked to lie and watch the sunset with her, but her 
impatience was palpable and he moved between her legs 
and up toward her. Foreplay seemed unnecessary, her lips 
were puffy with arousal, and she was breathing heavily 
even though they'd made very little contact other than 
the kissing and fondling.

As the girth of his cock brushed against her thigh, she 
gave a moan of frustration and reached for it, sending 
an electric thrill through the length of him. Placing it 
against the damp lips of her pussy, she mouthed, "Do 
it." Nodding, he pressed forward gently into her, 
parting the silky flesh of her labia, probing until he 
found her hymen. Her tightness seemed to inflame him, 
and his dick felt swollen beyond belief as he tested the 
barrier. 

She whined at the slowness of his ministration, and he 
finally scrapped gentleness for a swift, harsh 
penetration. Her eyes widened at the sensation of her 
maidenhead being taken, moaning only in pleasure, and 
seemingly without pain.

As she took the full length of him into her, she 
suddenly shuddered in climax, uttering a low cry of 
pleasure, staring past him with wide blue eyes. Jahn 
attempted to pull back so that he could begin a rhythm 
of fucking, but she suddenly reached up and grabbed his 
shoulders, pulling him down onto her, bare bodies 
grinding against one another as she wrapped her legs 
around him, trying to force him deeper and climaxing as 
she did it.

The tight, moist pleasure of her body seemed to engulf 
not just his cock but his brain, and he felt himself 
losing control as he stared down at her, supported only 
by his hands on the mattress. Heat knotted up in his 
groin, and he felt his entire body tense as his orgasm 
took hold of him. Buried as far into her as the grip of 
her legs could force him, he could feel her cervix seem 
to pulse against his cockhead as his semen forced itself 
between her womb and his tool. She cried out, something 
that sounded like words, but was too incoherent to have 
meaning or be heeded, except that it probably had 
something to do with the fact that he'd lost his balance 
and fallen on her.

That thought registered with him as his orgasm subsided 
and his dick softened within her. Taking stock, he 
realized he needn't have worried; she lay there with a 
blissful smile on her face, staring at the open sky 
through the window beyond him, before turning her gaze 
to his. Lips parting, she whispered at him, "You better 
not be done." The little blonde had no problem with 
vocalizing her demands, her pleasures, profanities, and 
everything else, as loudly as need be

He most certainly was not done, though he quickly found 
that his enthusiasm was no match for hers. She wanted to 
do it all, try it all - oral, anal, the works - as if 
screwing their brains out over the weekend was going to 
make up for lost time. Maybe it did, maybe it didn't, 
and maybe he was spending way too much time over-
thinking it and not enough time – as she put it – giving 
her some sugah. 

When what seemed like a honeymoon weekend was finally 
over, it felt like they really had tried everything, 
though she made it clear that she still had plenty of 
things to try yet. Wasn't sure how she could manage – he 
felt sore from legs, to groin, to lower back, as if he'd 
been in an entirely different kind of wrestling match. 

Jenny was even hinting at a little parting sex when he 
dropped her off at her house. He supposed he could make 
that sacrifice. Barely. The weekend should have ended on 
that note, somewhat sore but satisfied, as he took his 
moaning girlfriend from behind over her bed. Not with a 
bang, but a whimper of pleasure.

Instead, Jenny enthusiastically yelled his name and 
moments later the door banged open behind them, matched 
in volume by a piercing shriek, "What the fuck, you 
bitch!?!" As that last word resounded back and forth in 
his head, he couldn't help but think that it sounded 
strangely like 'asshole'. 

To be continued?

Archivist's Note: This author did not provide an email 
address so it will do the reader no good contacting the 
archive staff for further parts. Check back at a later 
time to see if there have been any updates to this story 
by the author.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 72