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Brooke and Willow - 1
by Brody (no address provided)

***

Sometimes the unexpected happens. A chance encounter 
with a store clerk leads to a surprising night of 
discovery and the promise of much more. There is 
something more to Brooke — something more than her 
intensely beautiful brown eyes. (MF, 1st, oral, voy)

***

Author Note: This is a work of fiction. The author does 
not condone any sexual activity among persons under 18 
in real life. You must be over the age of 18 to read 
this.

***

Chapter 1

I suppose that it's always the unexpected that takes you 
by surprise. And it isn't always the over the top "wow!" 
big sort of things either. No, sometimes it's the 
ordinary sort of unexpected that sneaks up, says "wow!" 
and then changes everything.

Brooke was the second type. She was a relatively new 
cashier at a local drug store--the type that sells 
everything from medicines to food, drinks and cheap 
patio furniture. I say relatively new, but I really 
don't know when she started. It was just one day that I 
noticed her. Cute face, maybe five five, blonde hair, 
cropped short and stylishly, but her eye! Goodness. I 
almost couldn't keep my own eyes off of hers. They were 
brown--intense brown--brown like the sparkling glass of 
root beer, brown like the milk chocolate of an Easter 
bunny, brown like the rich grained beauty of an antique 
mahogany desk. I know that she knew I was staring at 
her.

I regained some composure, paid for my stuff then felt a 
little awkward when she smiled, handed me my change and 
let her hand rest in the palm of mine a little longer 
than necessary. "Have a good day. Y'all come back."

"Thank you," I said and left.

I didn't mean to flirt and I was uneasy that she seemed 
to be flirting right back.

On the drive home, I convinced myself that it was my 
head playing tricks with me. She was just a nice girl--
probably just 20 at most. She'd hardly be drawn to me, a 
genuinely incompetent jerk in the dating department. I 
was twenty-four and had a small collection of dates and 
steady girlfriends from late high school through 
college, but nothing ever progressed. 

I was just like that old Stones song, "I can't get no 
girlie action." The fire went out of my life when the 
one girl I really cared about intensely, died in an 
drunk driving accident while I was away at college. 
Looking back in things, I would have to say that even 
though some four years had gone by since that night, I 
was still emotionally scarred: I couldn't, or wouldn't 
let someone get that close to me again.

So I put the checkout girl out of my mind and went about 
my normal week.

Friday rolled around and I stopped off at that store 
after work to pick up a nice bottle of port to use in a 
relaxing evening. There were few others in the store at 
the moment, probably because most mothers were already 
home fixing dinner for their kids. I suddenly remembered 
the previous interaction that I had and felt a little 
nervous as I saw the same girl at the register. This 
time, I noted her name tag: "Brooke."

She looked up at me and smiled. "Any particular event 
calling for such a nice bottle tonight?" she asked as 
she rang it up.

"Naw, just a quiet evening."

"All by yourself?" Her eyes sparkled and I had to tear 
mine away or I was in danger of falling in.

I nodded.

"That's a shame. You should be sharing this with 
someone."

"Got any suggestions?" I decided to play along.

"ID, please?"

"Huh? Oh, yes." I fished my wallet out and showed her my 
driver's license. 

"Thank you. That'll be $24.86."

I handed her thirty bucks and she smiled again at me. 
Her eyes! Mesmerizing!

She returned my change and placed it firmly in my palm 
then her other hand reached underneath my hand so it was 
held in between hers. "I do have a suggestion. Would it 
wreck your evening for you to wait before you open your 
bottle of port?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you wait till seven thirty, open the bottle and 
I'll show up at your place."

"You're going to show up at my place? Are you going to 
follow me home?"

"No, silly. You're going to open the bottle, pour two 
glasses, take a sip and then wish for me. I'll be 
there."

"Really!?"

"Truly. Give it a try. It's hardly anything for you to 
do but if I'm correct, you'll have a very nice evening. 
Okay?"

"Well, that's true. I'll wait till seven thirty. 
Anything else that I should have?"

"No, that'll be all. I'll take care of the rest."

She squeezed my hands between hers then released. I 
stared into her eyes then mumbled, "Good-bye," and left 
the store with my port.

Well, that got things escalating quickly. The prospects 
were completely out of my league. Last time I was 
serious with a girl it took me weeks to do more than a 
little kiss on her cheek and many weeks more till I got 
to second base. I looked around my small abode. I had 
work to do so I called out for pizza and decided to do a 
manly attempt at cleaning the place. Not that it was 
filthy, but as a single man there were a fair number of 
things draped over chairs and the like, plus I hadn't 
dusted in I don't know how long.

Pizza came in less than thirty minutes for which I 
tipped the driver extra. And I snarffed on slices while 
I ran around making my house respectable.

It was after seven now and I scurried to freshen up and 
change. I hurried back to the front room, put on some 
light jazz, found two candles and lit them then placed 
my bottle of port on the coffee table with two glasses 
and waited till seven thirty. Finally! It was time. I 
unwrapped the seal then opened the top. My hands were 
sweaty and my heart pounded in anticipation. I breathed 
two or three deep breaths then poured two glasses and 
set the bottle back down.

"Okay, she said make a wish," I spoke quietly to the 
room. I took a sip and after I swallowed I spoke, "I 
wished that Brooke was here."

Just then the door bell rang. I jumped then stared at 
the door.

The bell rang once again and I quickly hurried to the 
door and peered out through the peep hole. I could not 
believe my eyes! It was Brooke from the store.

I opened the door and stared. "It really is you! How the 
hey?"

"I promised, didn't I?"

I continued to stare.

"I think at this point you should invite me in?" she 
said with a smile and a twinkle in her beautiful eyes.

"Oh, yes. Come on in!" I finally remembered my manners.

I showed her in and pointed to a seat in the front room.

"This is very sweet, Darrin."

"Thank you. I'm impressed that you remembered my name. 
And I'm blown away that you really came to visit at 
all."

"I said I'd come, right? And there's the port."

She sat on the couch and patted the space next to her so 
I felt emboldened to sit close by. "Which glass is 
mine?"

I handed her one then lifted mine and said, "To a 
beautiful evening."

Our glasses clinked and we drank. "This really is good. 
So why were you planning on keeping this to yourself?"

I shrugged. "No other plans."

"You're outta college, right?"

"Um-hum." I nodded. "What about you?"

"Still going to school. Work part time, school part 
time, a little of this and that the rest of the time."

I took another sip and was pleased how much different 
the 24 dollar bottle tasted than the typical 9 dollar 
rot-gut stuff I had tried before. It tasted very good 
and the evening already was far better than anything I 
could have imagined.

"You know, before we go on, I just hafta apologize for 
staring at you the other day."

"Staring at me?" she repeated with a little smile.

"Specifically at your eyes. You have the most 
fascinating pair of eyes I have ever seen."

She looked away and blushed slightly. "Thank you, 
Darrin." She took another sip.

"I sure hope I'm not being too forward or anything."

"No, I'm the one in danger of that. Remember?"

We both laughed at that.

"No, I saw you looking into my eyes and I felt pleased. 
Finally someone was looking at *me* and not my boobs or 
something else." She looked behind me to the wall. "And 
I see that you appreciate eyes. You have a Renoir?"

"Yes, Mom gave it to me as a house warming gift. She 
knows that I love piano music, even if I can't play at 
all."

"Beautiful eyes, don't you think?"

I nodded then turned to look at the replica of the 
painting. Two girls--obviously young teens--seated at a 
piano: one intent on playing and the other intently 
watching. And like Brooke said, Renoir had a way with 
eyes. "I love his attention to details that matter," I 
finally said. "Everything pulls you into the action and 
their intensity."

"Which is focused in their eyes, no?"

"Exactly." I turned around to face her again.

"I understand. And Darrin?" She paused and looked down. 
"I've never acted on an impulse like this before, but I 
connected with you and felt you. I want to help."

"Help?" This was sounding really strange.

"I know it's coming out wrong, but listen to me first. 
Then decide. Okay?" She caught my hands with hers and 
looked at me with her beautiful brown eyes.

I nodded.

"Darrin, I could tell immediately that you are a great 
guy and you are a hard worker. But I sensed a level of 
discontent and, well, I wasn't sure, but it feels like 
you had love and then it was taken away."

I was shocked to hear her candid assessment of me after 
only seeing her twice in the checkout line. Creepy. Was 
she following me and looking up my info using my credit 
card number or driver's license? "How did you come to 
those conclusions?" I slowly asked.

"You think I'm a super scary stalker?" She shook her 
head. "I understand. I haven't stalked once. Unless you 
call coming to your place stalking."

"Then how?"

"It's in here!" She exclaimed and dropped my head to 
point to her heart and her head. "I just feel it. That 
and the fact you have a nice credit card shows that you 
are a hard worker with good credit."

"Are you like one of those science fiction people that 
are empaths?"

She nodded her head. "And I've never acted on these 
empathetic proddings like this before, but this is so 
strong. I just had to. You need a girl friend."

"You are offering to be my girl friend?" I asked 
incredulously. I was beginning to think I was in a movie 
and the surprise ending was about to come in from the 
other room.

"No, I would like to be your friend who is a girl," she 
smiled and took my hands again. "But I want to help you 
find the perfect girl friend."

"How can you do that?"

"Remember? I'm an empath. I'll discover more about you 
and put that together with what I know of girls and 
women that I've met."

I slouched into the couch and sighed.

"You don't believe me and you're having second opinions 
about inviting me over here."

"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out," 
I replied.

"I know, but I really.... Oh Darrin, I'm so sorry!" She 
began normally but ended with a shriek. "I didn't know. 
That is so awful!"

"What?"

"Your girl friend was still in high school when she died 
in a horrible car wreck."

My world imploded in around me as I recalled the horror 
and terror of that night. I was a sophomore in college 
and my girl friend, Michelle, was a senior in high 
school. I had gone home for prom and been her date at 
that important high school rite of passage. But the very 
next Friday I got a phone call from my mom almost 
frantic and crying. 

"I'm so sorry, Darrin. Michelle was in a car wreck." My 
world crashed and I didn't know what to do. I staggered 
home for the funeral and the emotional meeting with 
family on all sides. Then I returned to classes at the 
university and nearly tanked. I almost withdrew, the 
emotional wreckage was so severe.

Brooke leaned into me and put her arms around my 
shoulders and neck. Her head lay next to mine. She said 
nothing, but I could feel the moisture from her tears 
wetting her cheeks and my neck.

I tried to back off from the memories and the emotions, 
but the long repressed images and pain refused to lie 
down quietly. I felt my heart move sideways again and my 
stomach clenched hard--just like it did when I first 
heard my mom on the phone, "Darrin, oh I'm so sorry, 
Darrin. Michelle's been in a bad accident." 

Mom's voice was choked with emotions and my mind went 
numb at that point. And now, several years later, images 
of my sweet girlfriend came upon me like a raging 
torrent, threatening to sweep me away. Her sweet smile, 
the way her eyes danced when she was happy, her long 
brown hair which would shine in the morning light when I 
walked her to school.

We had become good friends at the end of my junior year. 
That she was a freshman was a little unusual, but I was 
never comfortable with the whole high school dating 
scene and many of the girls in my class, frankly, scared 
me. I was just a nerd and a bit of a wall-flower. But 
Michelle was a nerd and a bookworm and we started 
talking and hanging out at the library after school. 

Things simmered over the Summer then ignited that Fall. 
It was real love for me--I was certain of it. But it was 
hard going off to college even though it was only an 
hour away. But we made it work. Occasionally she would 
even come over to my school and hang out with me, even 
sitting in classes with me. 

Thus my freshman year ended and that next Summer was so 
sweet. Fall came and Michelle was starting the admission 
applications to attend school with me. We were so 
hopeful and.... well.... I received the phone call and 
my life ended. I was nineteen, not quite twenty and to 
keep the hurt at bay I shut the door on new close 
relations. That thought struck me hard--I had never 
understood that I was still grieving and hadn't finished 
the process correctly yet.

"That was only four and a half years ago," Brooke 
whispered.

I had forgotten that she was there. In my mind and with 
my eyes closed, I was imagining holding Michelle once 
again. I opened my eyes and looked around. My eyes were 
blurred from tears, but I saw that I was holding Brooke 
and she was holding me. The bottle of port and two 
partially empty glasses were on the table near the 
candles that still flickered. Light jazz music still 
played softly through the speakers.

"I don't know what happened," I finally said.

"I think you had a bunch of repressed emotions," Brooke 
whispered then gently kissed my cheek. "I can sense that 
you were close. Almost like a soul mate. How intimate 
were you two?"

"We were close--very close. I felt that she was the 
first person in the world that accepted me for me. We 
were both inexperienced virgins and nervous as anything 
so we started the exploring each other very slowly. But 
by the time she was a senior we were active and petted 
heavily doing most things short of me sticking my dick 
into her tight twat. I was scared of her dad, but we 
promised each other that we would give each other 
ourselves as her graduation present. But that never..." 
I wasn't able to finish my sentence.

She hugged me again and whispered, "How sweet and 
special. I'm so sorry."

Suddenly I was reliving hugging Michelle. Her long hair 
cascaded down over her shoulders--her bare shoulders--
over her back and her. Oh my goodness! Her bare ass was 
in view! Her lovely, svelte, small and compact ass! And 
my hands were cupping each perfect cheek. 

I know that night. It was a night that played in my wet 
dreams and daytime fantasies often. I was home from 
college for the weekend and her parents were out till 
late so we had free reign of the house. It was all we 
could do to keep from going all the way right then. It 
was only her little reminders and my innate fear of what 
her dad would do that kept me from spreading her legs 
and driving my friend home for the night.

Instead we undressed each other then stood completely 
naked holding each other tightly with my stiff and 
twitching dick excitedly rubbing her belly. She pulled 
my face down and began French-kissing while her hands 
stroked my hair and neck.

"And then you creamed your load all over her belly."

Brooke's voice brought me back to reality. Only this was 
weird. I was imagining and reflecting on and old memory 
yet she commented on my memories as if they were out in 
the open, playing on a TV screen for all to watch.

"What?! Are you reading my mind?"

"Almost. It's called kything."

"It's called what?"

Brooke sighed then said, "I guess this is the main 
reason that I don't try this very often. There's a lot 
to explain and I'm not doing a good job."

"You're doing a good job at two things," I answered.

"Oh?"

"Making me believe that you have something going on."

"That's one."

"And weirding me out." I smiled.

"She kissed my cheek then said, "You are such a good 
sport."

"So what is this kyth thing you're doing?"

"Kything was a term reintroduced into English by 
Madeleine L'Engle for her books like the sequels to a 
Wrinkle in Time. It's based on an old English word that 
meant to announce, or tell, to make known in words, or 
to make visible. She used it in her books to be a 
fictional telepathy and sort of mind-melding if you're a 
Star Trek fan."

"You said fictional? Yet you're doing it?"

"I borrowed the term since it's the closest thing to 
explain what I have."

"But you were reading my mind?"

"Almost. Primarily, I was experiencing your emotions. I 
did nudge you in a direction, but your feelings on that 
subject were so powerful and raw and intense, it was all 
I could do to keep from being blown away." She leaned 
away and picked up our glasses. "I would like to propose 
another toast."

I accepted the glass from her hand and waited.

"To Darrin. I am overwhelmed with what a beautiful 
person he is!"

Our glass clinked lightly together. "Thank you, Brooke."

We drank the rest of our port then Brooke held her glass 
out. "That is really good stuff. Mind sharing a little 
more?"

"Careful. It's a lot stronger than wine. Are you driving 
home?"

"No, I'm flying."

I laughed. "More dangerous to drink and fly than to 
drink and drive."

"Trust me, I'm not driving."

"Then let's have a little more," I replied. I poured 
each glass a little more than half full then said, "I 
don't understand half of what went on tonight. You must 
know that. But I also don't understand why I feel so 
comfortable with you in spite of be nearly freaked out 
of my mind."

"Our emotions have melded. You're feeling some of my 
peace just as I understand some of who you are. And 
lemme just say this about that. You are a real 
gentleman. I'm very impressed. I'm thinking of a few 
women to send by you sometime tomorrow. I'm sure one of 
them will be perfect for you."

"So, I'm to stay at home and interview these women as 
they come by?"

Brooke laughed then took another sip of her drink. "No. 
Not at all. You'll go through your day. You have 
Saturday off, right?"

I nodded.

"Good. That's easier. I'll just nudge them to interact 
with you throughout the day. You'll sense who might be 
your soul mate."

"What if no one is?"

"There are millions of women out there in the world. 
You're telling me that you can't imagine that at least 
one of them is perfect for you?"

"I'm just saying I can't imagine how long it'll take to 
find the right one."

She took a good size swig then set her glass down. 
"Here, lemma take yours too."

"Whatchya doing?"

She answer me by pushing me gently back so I was half 
lying on the couch and my legs hanging off to the floor. 
"Darrin, one thing I've learned is that defeatism and 
down-in-the-dumps feelings keep feeding on each other. 
You need a little confidence." Her fingers traced the 
outline of my crotch through my jeans. "I want to give 
you a little confidence tonight so that you can think 
straight when you meet these women."

I couldn't believe it. She was coming on so strong and 
horny! "Give me a little confidence?" Might as well play 
along and get her to say exactly what she meant.

"Uh-huh." Her fingers pressed a little harder into my 
groin and my dick began responding. "I think that 
someone is getting the idea."

A bizarre I was suddenly concerned. "Is this a mind 
trick?"

"No, it's real. Studies have shown that if a man 
receives love and a good, positive sexual experience, he 
will go out with a much more positive outlook. That's 
what I want for you."

"Sex tonight?" 

In retrospect I can't believe how dumb that must have 
sounded, but Brooke didn't flinch or laugh. In stead, 
she undid my belt then the fly of my jeans. As the 
zipper came down, my dick grew larger and more excited. 
She ran her fingers over the cloth that was stretched 
above the length of my growing rod then leaned over to 
kiss it through my underwear. "That smells so good," she 
whispered in a deep, sultry voice. She then proceeded to 
untie my shoes and pull my pants down and off.

"Darrin, I hope that you aren't offended that we're not 
going to go all the way tonight, but this is our first 
date. Only tramps, sluts and whores fuck at the first 
meeting. You're more romantic than that. So am I." She 
undid a couple of buttons on her blouse then added, "And 
I really want your first time sex to be with your new 
woman. You'll find her. Trust me." 

"Do you need some help with that, ma'am?"

She smiled. "Why, yes, I do."

I sat up then finished unbuttoning her blouse and 
carefully slipped it from her shoulders and arms. She 
wore a black, lacy bra that pushed her breast upward--
each breast looked to be the size of an orange. I could 
see no tan line yet.

"The hook is right here in front," she said and faced 
me.

She wanted me to release her assets and I would be right 
in front of them as they sprang free. My hands actually 
trembled a little as I fumbled with the bra hook. But 
finally it was undone and I slowly and carefully opened 
her bra up to reveal a perfect pair of almost C-cup tits 
that were firm, semi-spherical and capped by small 
areola and a smaller nipple that barely raised itself 
above the cone. There were no tan lines at all. The 
thought of her going at least topless stoked my fires 
even more.

"They're beautiful," I whispered.

"You're too kind."

"May I kiss them?"

She smiled and leaned closer to me. I planted a big kiss 
on first one then the other. She grabbed the back of my 
head and I took that as a sign that she wanted me to 
suck and nibble and lick those precious orbs. I tongued 
one then sucked on the other. Back and forth and 
sometimes kissing each and leaving a trail of kissed 
between the two. 

While my mouth played with her tits, my hands spent some 
time rubbing her back and feeling her great little ass 
through her pants. My cock was becoming harder and 
harder and leaking pre-cum profusely.

Finally she shuddered and leaned hard against me as she 
gasped and panted. I was very surprised. I never knew 
that a woman could cum very from mere breast 
stimulation. I stopped sucking and just held her tightly 
with my face pressed up against the soft skin of her 
tits.

"Darrin, that was so good!" she finally said. "I haven't 
had a quickie like that in quite a while."

"I didn't know breasts alone could do that."

"Not always, but sometimes. I think I was worked up by 
kything with you and feeling the energies that you've 
had." She slowly slid down to her knees making sure to 
scrape her tits over my dick on the way down. "Now it's 
your turn. Enjoy!"

Then she exhaled softly on my dick and cupped my balls 
with her hand as she wrapped her other hand around my 
shaft. The effect was immediate. I moaned and my dick 
jumped and felt like it grew another size and a half. 
With the one hand holding my shaft, she began a slow, 
methodical stroke up and down. 

With the hand that held my nuts, she gently rubbed them 
and massaged them in her hand. Then she lowered her 
mouth over my highly sensitized dick and enveloped the 
head. Her tongue snaked downward a ways to tantalize 
more of the shaft. I knew that there was no way on 
planet earth that I could hold out long against such 
exquisite sensations.

I reached out to touch her, to somehow communicate that 
what she was doing was so incredible. My hand found her 
back and the ribs along her side. I traced them down to 
feel her tit hanging below her chest and squeezed. It 
was such an incredible sensation to feel her perfect 
orange-size tit resting in the palm of my hand. 

That and the continued oral ministrations on my dick 
pushed me over the edge. I gasped and said 
unintelligible syllables. I know that I squeezed her tit 
and thrust my hips and dick upward into her mouth. She 
pulled back a little but kept her mouth firmly in place 
over my now erupting dick head. Three, four, five 
volleys fired off, then a couple of lesser spasms and 
finally one brief shudder. I was spent. That was the 
best blow job that I had ever had. Period.

I opened my eyes finally and saw her licking her lips. I 
glanced down but there was no jism to be seen anywhere. 
There was no cleanup necessary!

"Brooke, that was incredible. Would you be my 
girlfriend?"

"I'm your friend, Darrin," she said then kissed my 
partially erect dick. "But I'm an empath. That wouldn't 
be fair to you. I would know everything you're thinking 
or at least feeling, and you would barely know what's on 
my mind unless I told you. No," she shook her head. "I 
am waiting to find a fellow empath. We will certainly 
make beautiful music together."

"But, couldn't you just try?"

She kissed my dick again. "I think you're post-orgasmic 
drunk. Wake up tomorrow morning and think about it 
correctly." She sat up and swallowed the rest of her 
port. "It's almost eleven o'clock. I need to get home."

I struggled to sit up. "I can't believe it's that late."

"Time flies when you're kything, doesn't it?" She found 
her bra and quickly slipped it back on. I felt a pang of 
disappointment as her tits disappeared from view. "Don't 
worry, silly. I'll still be around, but I think that 
you'll get a real girlfriend soon enough. Okay?"

I nodded.

"You're tired and had a long week. Just lay back and 
close your eyes. I'll let myself out. I'll be by to see 
you in a couple of days or perhaps I'll see you at the 
store."

She pulled her shirt on then began buttoning. I was 
unnaturally tired. Neither port nor wine had never swung 
me for a loop like that before. I was going to protest 
but ended up being mesmerized by watching her bra 
ensconced tits disappear from view as she finished 
buttoning her shirt.

"Good night, Darrin. This has been an incredible 
evening. I hope that you enjoyed it too."

"I did. But will you really send women by me tomorrow?"

"I will. You watch and you think about each of them. 
You'll know who's best." She bent over me and kissed my 
lips. "You really are a very sweet man. We'll get you a 
proper girlfriend. Okay?"

I smiled and nodded. That really was a pleasant 
proposition.

"Good night," she said and draped a nearby afghan over 
me.

"Night," I whispered.

She kissed me once again and touched my eyes. I heard 
the door open and close but fell asleep and couldn't 
care less about whether it was properly locked or not. I 
had vague, strange dream about sex and girlfriends and 
sex and Brooke and sex. In the middle of the night I 
suddenly woke up and was no longer stupefied. "The door! 
I have to make sure the door is locked!"

I got up quickly and went to the front door and was very 
confused to see that it was locked already. There was no 
way that someone could lock it from the outside without 
a key. I went back to the front room and found my jeans. 
No, my keys were still in my jeans' pocket. I explored 
the rest of the house and saw that all was locked and in 
its proper place. There was no way that anyone without a 
key could have left the place and left it locked.

I sat down on the couch again and stared at the two 
glasses--one empty and one nearly so--as well as the 
bottle of port. The candles had been extinguished and my 
jazz music had long since been turned off. "Was this all 
a dream I asked myself."

That's when I noticed a small slip of paper near the 
port. I picked it up and read, "Believe. It really 
happened."

"She was here!" I whispered to the room. "But how did 
she get out?"

I shook my head the downed the rest of the contents of 
the almost empty glass. "What the hey!" I muttered then 
took the bottle and downed a sizable gulp before setting 
it back down. I looked at the clock--almost two in the 
morning.

"And I don't even know her last name!" I whispered aloud 
in amazement.

I slowly aimed myself for bed and ascended the stairs. I 
did not finish undressing, but that hardly mattered 
since I was still naked from the waist down. Sleep came 
quickly but troubled as I dreamt many things involving 
Brooke and some new girlfriend. All of it sexy, but most 
of it weird and vaguely troubling. I slept long and 
hard.

To be continued...

NOTE: This story was written by a Kristen's Board Author.
If you want to contact this author you will need to go to
www.kristensboard.com and create an account. You can 
access the board without an account, you just can't post 
anything without one.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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 82