She wandered into the emergency room wearing a grubby Santa hat and clutching an ankle-length coat around her, complaining she wasn’t feeling well. The nurses rolled their eyes because she was a regular, a drunk, and a whore. The young resident on duty would have found her attractive if she would only get her shit together, but he despaired of that. Colleen was a redhead who flaunted her assets in skimpy clothes, but always with what seemed like a fuck-you attitude.

The last time she’d been in, the resident had drawn blood to test for STDs and had been hoping she would come in again so he could give her the results.

“You’ve got syphilis,” he said, trying to keep himself from looking down her cleavage. She caught him and smirked.

“Like my girls, doc? See! They’re smiling at you!” And she squeezed her tits together, pointing them at the resident. “Why don’tcha say hi?”

The resident blushed, cleared his throat, and said, “Um, I’m prescribing a course of penicillin. I’ll give you an injection now, but you’ll need to come back over the next few weeks for repeat doses – unless you want to die a slow and painful death. You’ll start to feel better partway through, but if you don’t keep coming in until you’re completely cured, it’ll come back worse than before.”

The girl hiccupped, then looked up at him owlishly and said, “Sure thing, doc. Whaddever you say,” turned and pulled up her skirt.

She wiggled her ass as he prepared to inject her, which he tried to ignore; gave her the penicillin, then straightened up.

 “You know…,” he paused. He worried that he was wasting his time and, worse, making a fool of himself. He knelt so he was at her eye level. “Look, Colleen, you’re flushing your life down the toilet. You’re beautiful, yes, but I’ve seen you here before and heard you talking. You have brains as well as beauty. Why don’t you find something better to do with your life?”

She smirked at him, “What’s better than drinking and fucking?” She looked sad, “Besides, that’s all anyone, including my dad, says I’m good for – a quick fuck.” She belched and looked at him. “’ Scuse me. Like what else could I be doin’ with me life?”

Unprepared for her question, he was stuck for something to say, then spotted a pamphlet on the opposite wall. Picking it up, he handed it to her. “How about saving someone else’s life?”

The pamphlet was about organ donation.

“Colleen, if you keep going like this, you’re going to kill yourself. So if you’re going to kill yourself, you could at least help someone who wants to live.”

She blinked at him, serious now.

“Colleen, I’ve seen you in here too many times. I…” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, “I…I believe in you. Please take care of yourself, okay?”

Blushing furiously, he turned and hurried away.

Colleen gaped at his back. No one had ever suggested that she would amount to anything – other than a good fuck. She looked at the pamphlet, then folded it into her purse and left, thinking.

~~~~~

I met Dani when I was in my last year of university. She was in her last year of high school and had come to visit a girlfriend for a few days.

Seeing a group of my friends on the quad huddled around Chrissy, a beautiful woman who was dating my former roommate, I walked up to say hi.

“Hey Rob, let me introduce you to my friend, Dani. I used to babysit her – she’s my next-door neighbor. Dani, this is Rob. Despite his looks, he’s really rather cute!”

Just normal banter within our circle of friends. I laughed, then shook Dani’s hand, smiled, and made some smart-ass remark. But it was not a normal handshake. I felt a shock – and I saw Dani’s eyes widen above her smile.

Then the conversation drifted elsewhere as others piled in their jibes – and I had to get to class. I excused myself and hurried on.

Later that evening, after classes, hours in the library, and supper at the dining center, I made my way back to the dorm. Hearing laughter coming from Mike’s room, I dropped my books on my bed and wandered over.

No sooner had I crossed the threshold than Dani jumped up and almost ran over to me.

I can remember thinking, “Why me?” but that was the last time I questioned her interest in me. Or mine in her.

We started chatting and laughing. Others would join in for a while, then fade away and go back to the group, but Dani and I just kept talking.

Somehow we drifted back to my room, first with the door open, then closed, and finally sitting next to each other on the bed.

It took me a while to realize that she’d stopped talking, and was looking at me. I finally realized she was waiting.

“Oh,” was my brilliant remark – and leaned in and kissed her.

She had the softest lips and tongue I had ever experienced. I remember it even now, how almost silky her tongue felt on mine. She put her hand behind my head, and leaned her body back onto the bed, pulling me with her.

We broke kisses, and I looked down at her. She gazed quietly back up at me, smiling. I slid my hand down to her waist, then under her sweater, feeling the smoothness of her skin, and its warmth. I moved my hand up to her breast, feeling the hardness of the nipple through her bra.

She pushed me back, and I worried that I’d gone too far – until she sat up, pulled her sweater over her head, disheveling her hair, then reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting it fall, smiling shyly. Unbuttoning my shirt, I peeled it off, tossed it to the floor, then pulled her to me.

A shock ran through me when her nipples touched my chest. Her mouth opened, “Ohhh…” I stopped it with my mouth, and once again was surprised by the furry texture of her tongue – so soft, and so enticing.

We undressed each other until we were lying next to each other, naked, on the bed. I couldn’t get over how soft and velvety her skin was, and how warm. I could smell her fragrance and felt the throbbing hardness of my prick. She reached for it, and I shivered with her hot hand on me. She slowly started to pump her hand up and down.

Pushing her hand away, I slid down on the bed and moved between her legs, spreading them wide. She watched, hand stroking my hair.

I inhaled her aroma and felt her pussy’s heat rising to my face. Sticking my tongue out, I let it drag up her pussy lips and got my first taste of her honey, hot and tangy. Licking my lips, I went back down and licked upwards again, splitting her inner and outer labia, harvesting a gush of honey on my tongue. She shivered, and her legs began to tremble.

“OOHHH…”

Slowly, teasingly, lovingly, I let my tongue and lips worship and appreciate her labia, and inside her tunnel, then finally, when she started pushing her hips towards me, I licked up and very lightly feathered her clit, just starting to peek out from its hood.

Her back arched, and her whole body shook. I felt her hands on my hair, grasping my head and trying to push me harder into her open orchid. I refused to be hurried, and continued to lick, suck, and brush my tongue and lips around her labia and clit, slurping and licking, gradually dragging my tongue harder and harder across her clit, until –

“Oh … OH … OHHH! Oh Rob, OH Rob, OH ROB ROB ROB … OH GOD!”

She clapped her hand over her mouth to deaden the scream that erupted as her body went taut and honey gushed into my mouth. Her back arched, and the whole bed shook as I continued to lap and brush her.

“Come inside me – now, Rob – I need you inside me!”

She didn’t have to ask again. By that time, I was so hard I was aching and more than ready to plunge into her pussy.

Then was surprised all over again. She wasn’t hot, she was molten, and I could tell I wouldn’t last long. Pulling her legs up and around my back, I stroked deep inside her once, twice, three times … and came, muffling my cries by putting my mouth on her tit and sucking.

This time she did cry out, and we both felt paradise until we collapsed on the bed, my body over hers as I dropped her legs.

I propped up on one elbow to avoid crushing her, panting, dropping my now-dripping head onto her torso. She was panting in answer, and started stroking my hair…

Even now, I can remember it all quite clearly – and the pain of loss mingles with the sweetness of that moment.

~~~~~

We had to work to see each other, like the time I went to meet her mother and stepfather.

I was safely, they thought, bedded down in the third-story guest room. I couldn’t imagine creeping down the stairs and making love in Dani’s room, next to her mother’s.

But Dani snuck up into my attic room around five a.m., pulled her nighty over her head, and slid into bed, waking me with a naked hug, her mouth hungrily seeking mine, body pressed to mine.

Dani almost yanked my PJ bottoms off and threw them on the floor, then grasped my lengthening cock, looking uncertain. I placed my hand lightly on the back of her head. She looked up at me, questioning. She told me later that she had never had a boy’s cock in her mouth, and was afraid, but wanted to try. She licked her lips, opened her mouth, and started to take me in, then stopped, withdrew, and worked more saliva into her mouth, then moved back onto me.

I arched my back and grunted, surprised. I had had girls suck me before, but it was nothing like this – hot, velvety, and oh-so-soft. I knew I would cum quickly if she sucked me for very long, but didn’t want to overwhelm her by cumming in her mouth. I let her bob slowly up and down for a bit, then very reluctantly pulled her off of me. She looked up quizzically, then whispered, “Didn’t I do it right?”

I sighed, “You’ll never know,” I whispered back, “but I want to be inside your pussy now, so – come here,” and tugged on her shoulders.

Not needing to be told twice, she moved up and kneeled astride me. I positioned her legs on either side of me, moved her bum so her pussy was over my cock, then helped her impale herself.

“OHhh…” she moaned. “That’s so – nice …” Her head dropped forward, letting her brunette hair cascade down. Holding her two bum cheeks in my hands, I started her moving up and down.

Soon she was moving more quickly, and the bed started to shake. I whispered, “SHHH! Quietly!”

She giggled, then leaned forward and placed her hands on my chest, and began to fuck me more slowly, panting. This kept up for what seemed like a heavenly age, then she suddenly fell forward onto my chest, stuffing her hand into her mouth, closing her lips around it, and screamed. That triggered me, and I followed into an astonishing, mind-blowing orgasm.

~~~~~

Dani was asked to house-sit across town for a friend’s family. I joined her surreptitiously, and the three days we spent together changed our relationship.

It started when we were making love, with Dani again riding me cowgirl, bouncing joyously up and down when she shouted, “Spank me!”

I stopped what I was doing and very brightly said, “What?”

“Spank me, Rob, spank me!”

I tentatively smacked her left bum as she rose up.

“Harder!”

So, I smacked her right bum the next time she rose – and started hitting her bum alternate sides with each bounce.

She put her hands over her tits and started to pull them, lightly at first, then harder until I thought she might rip them off.

Then came, hard, throwing her head back and screaming, body taut and shaking.

I was so surprised that I didn’t cum – and was surprised again when Dani, collapsed forward, lifted herself off of my cock, then quickly moved into position and started sucking my cock like a vacuum cleaner.

“OW! Softly there!”

She eased off some, then started to force herself down until she gagged on my cock, making an urking noise that I found strangely compelling. And she didn’t just do it once, but again and again, until tears were streaming down her cheeks.

“Dani, I’m gonna cum – Dani!”

And came, pumping cum into her mouth, then watching it leak out of one side and drip down onto my hip.

When I was done, she slowly lifted off of my cock, then flopped over on her back, and nestled into my arm.

We were both panting hard for a while, then I turned and looked sideways at her. “What was that?” I asked.

Dani shook her head, “I have no idea, but fuck, it was amazing!”

It went on like that for the rest of the stay.

She started kneeling in front of me to suck my cock, pushing down hard and choking. That was how she indicated that she wanted to fuck, and I was fine with that! More than that, it was as if a light had gone on in my head.

I started tying her hands behind her. Then, when she sank to her knees, I would fuck her face rather than passively wait for her to suck my cock. I found that making her gag on my cock was even more exciting than having her make herself do it.

I also started spanking her bare bottom, first at her request, and then whenever I felt like it – or could invent an excuse, which was even better.

Next, she begged me to tie her spread-eagled on the bed, which I did with great gusto, sometimes blindfolded so she wouldn’t know what was coming next.

And one time, just to experiment, I got a candle and started dripping wax on her tits, holding it high to let the wax cool a bit before it hit her naked body. She winced each time a drop fell but gave no indication that she wanted me to stop. I dripped closer and closer to her bush, clit, and cunt, and could see that she was tensing – then let her breath out in a whoosh when I stopped and put the candle out. She came loud and hard when I fucked her that time.

~~~~~

This set the tone for our relationship going forward. It was clear that she wanted to feel pain (but not too much), and to feel as if I were degrading her (but not in public).

We got married two years later. I was working on Wall Street and hauling in good money. We rented a place in Brooklyn, and she went to City University to study pre-law.

We both came home tired from work and studying but would often play our games on Saturday mornings and sometimes through the rest of the weekend when I would order her to remain naked. If she needed to answer the door, she could put on a translucent robe. If she went out, she had to go without a bra or panties and wear a short dress or skirt. The more embarrassed she was, the hotter she was when we got home.

We had great fun, and had great sex – until she got sick.

She started getting terrible abdominal pains, vomited repeatedly, and was constantly tired. I didn’t know what to do, and when we finally got to see the right doctor, it was worse.

The diagnosis was cancer, and we ran scared for a long time.

It was a close-run thing, but finally, after a lot of frightened nights, pain, anguish, despair, and then hope, things got better. She got a miraculous reprieve, but the doctors couldn’t tell us for how long, and said she’d have to stay on medication for the rest of her life – however long that was.

So we stopped putting off having a family and had two kids in quick succession: a boy and a girl. A millionaire’s pair, Dani called them, and over time they grew up to be strong, rambunctious kids, and eventually happily married adults. We enjoyed every day we had, knowing it could end at any time.

Because the shadow, the threat hanging over Dani, was always there, lurking. We didn’t tell the kids until way late. There was no need for them to know until it was almost time to say goodbye.

Because the shadow returned – and killed her.

~~~~~

The next part of the story took place about three years after her death while I was waiting at the dentist’s office.

Bored, I picked up a magazine from the table and flipped through it. The articles about home furnishings and decorations held no interest for me, so I wound up at the back, looking at the classifieds, when an ad caught my eye: “Discrete Companion.”

I was surprised. Really? Did that mean what I thought it meant?

I was waffling about what to think when the receptionist called my name. I hurriedly tore the page out of the magazine, folded it, and stuffed it in my pocket, earning a dirty look as I hurried past the reception desk.

I didn’t think about that ad again until I went through my pant pockets while doing laundry. I pulled it out – and was surprised all over again.

I found myself reading and re-reading it.

The one thing that had eluded me after getting over the initial shock of Dani’s death was a relationship with another woman, even though I was both desperately lonely and embarrassingly horny. I hadn’t even tried to date, resolutely avoiding women, especially “widows with meatloaf.” Now, though, I started to think about companionship.

Partly at the urging of my kids, I had tried putting myself out there, with little success. I tried dating apps, blind dates arranged by well-meaning friends, amateur theater groups, and volunteer boards, and had met lots of pleasant, even eager women, but none of them interested me.

I had even, quietly, tried attending a BDSM group in my area. I found it skin-crawlingly tacky. Rightly or wrongly, I felt that I was viewed as either as a pathetic old man, or a sugar-daddy sucker to be taken. I never went back.

To the outside world, I was brave and stoic. Everyone admired how I was holding up. Inwardly, I remained heart-achingly lonely, and the evenings and weekends were the worst – especially those nights when my pecker popped up, demanding attention.

But Christmas was the time I missed Dani the most.

Christmas had always been her best thing. Even as she was packing Halloween decorations away, she started hauling out the boxes of Christmas decorations. Whenever I objected (a bit of a tradition), she would riposte with some asperity that she was “just checking them.”

As soon as Thanksgiving was over, or at the first snowfall, whichever came first, the Christmas decorations started appearing.

Now, with Dani no longer there, it fell to me to decorate the house. I hadn’t wanted to, but the kids expected it, so I tried hard the first year, half-heartedly the second year, but gave up and didn’t decorate at all the third.

By now, the shock had worn off, and the support had vanished. I wasn’t the poor, grieving widower anymore, I was an awkward spare wheel. And my kids were so preoccupied with their busy lives, their kids, and Santa that they didn’t call as much or visit at all, although they did press me to visit them.

Finally, I told the kids I was thinking of going somewhere warm for Christmas, partly to get away from the memories. They encouraged me, saying it was a great idea.

But I didn’t want to go alone…

I had kept the “Discrete Companion” ad and had thought about calling many times but never worked up the nerve to do so. Finally, the prospect of spending Christmas alone was enough of a spur that I picked up my phone and dialed.

The reason this ad caught my attention was that the woman sounded – interesting. She clearly had brains, had traveled, seemed warm and outgoing, and came from, she said, Ireland. In a few short lines, she sounded like someone I would like to meet.

When I finally got up the nerve to press the CALL button, I felt like I was back in high school. I hated high school.

It rang three times, during which I almost hung up – but then there was a warm voice that said, “Hallo?”

“Hi, um, I’m calling about your ad?”

“Oh! You must have seen it in an old magazine. I haven’t run that ad in quite a while, but OK. What would you like?”

Puzzled, I said, “I’m sorry?”

“What kind of flowers did you want?”

“I’m sorry?”

There was a silence at the other end of the phone. “You are calling to buy flowers for Christmas, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m sorry, I must have dialed the wrong number,” and disconnected.

I scrutinized the torn-out ad, then carefully dialed the number again, one digit at a time.

“Hallo?” came the hesitant voice.

“I’m very sorry, there must be some mistake. I’m calling the number given in an ad from a magazine that was in the Companions section at the back. ”

There was a long pause, then he heard a gusty laugh that went on and on. Finally, the voice came back, and said, “Oh, that ad! You must have gotten that from a really old magazine!”

I smiled, hearing the laughter, “Well, it was in a dentist’s office…”

And that set her off again. I was almost starting to get annoyed when she came back on the line, “I’m sorry, please forgive me.” I noticed that she had a bit of an Irish lilt to her voice that I hadn’t noticed at first. “I stopped running that ad more than ten years ago when I got too old for the business. I thought you were calling about the lilies, orchids, and poinsettias that I raise now.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. Then, to my surprise, my laughter went on and on until I was crying.

“You poor, dear man. What have they done to you?” Now the voice was warm and compassionate.

It took me a long time before I could grab my composure with both hands and blurt, “They killed my wife, and I can’t get over it.” I stopped crying but was gulping and struggling not to cry.

There was a long pause. “Well, now, let’s see about that. Tell me about her.”

And the whole story came spilling out, all the pent-up frustration, the anger and pain, the loneliness, the isolation, all the things I hadn’t been able to share with anyone else, especially not my family.

When I ran down, I asked about her, and her background. She was, indeed, Irish, although her family had moved to America when she was a young girl and settled near Stratford, Connecticut. This led to a discussion of the theatre, then music, then museums that we liked and disliked, and on and on for what seemed like ages, and no time at all.

Finally, she said, “This has been grand, but I must go. May I call you again? I’d love to talk more.”

“I would love that very much, Colleen. Thank you. You’ve done me a great good.”

There was a pause, then, “I will call again. I have enjoyed our chat and would love to continue it. But why were you calling a Companions ad, if I might be so bold?”

I blushed, and stammered, “Well, I, I …”

“It’s all right, truly. But I am curious.”

“Well, if you must know, I’m horny as hell, and can’t abide most of the stupid women out there. And I’m lonely…”

There was another tinkling laugh, then another pause. “May I call you back this evening?” said Colleen.

“Please!”

“Right. About eight?”

“Fine. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Eight it is, then. Goodbye until then, you dear, sweet man.”

And she was gone.

When the phone rang after eight, I snatched it up, “Hello?”

“It’s Colleen.”

“Oh, hi. Thanks for calling back. Would you mind if I asked a question?”

There was a long-suffering sigh, then she said, “You want to know what a nice girl like me is doing in a place like this, don’t you?”

I was surprised at the pain in her voice. “No, actually, I was going to ask why you stopped. You are easy to talk to, lovely in every way, and I would guess that you would be fun to be with.”

Again there was a long pause, then finally, “I stopped because I got too old, plus I had an operation that left scars that some people find repugnant.” She sighed. “There are a lot of younger, prettier girls out there, and my phone stopped ringing. It’s part of life.” That last seemed almost wistful.

Hesitantly, I asked, “Would you forgive me if I asked how old you are?”

“I’m forty-nine.” The statement was flat, completely devoid of emphasis.

Now it was my turn to laugh.

“What?” she demanded, “What?”

“I’m almost sixty, Colleen. I’d practically be robbing the cradle if I saw you!”

Now it was her turn to laugh, long and hard. “Well, you certainly had me fooled. I would have pegged you for someone in their 30s or 40s.”

“You’re very kind, but you haven’t seen me.”

“Are you very old and very fat, then?” she teased.

I almost bristled, then chuckled instead and said, “Oh, terribly. Horribly!”

And our conversation began again, continuing for another hour. At the end of the hour, Colleen said, “I wanted to ask if you would like me to find a companion for you. I’ve stayed in touch with some of the younger girls, and I’m sure I could find one to your liking.”

I paused before replying, “If it’s all the same to you, Colleen, could we meet? I’d pay you for your time if you wished.”

There was another pause. “When you called the number, what were you hoping to arrange?”

“I’m supposed to be going to Florida for Christmas week. I need to get away from the city, from my family, but mostly from the echoing loneliness of my own house.”

“You could do that by yourself. Why call looking for a companion?”

I sighed. “Stupidity, I guess. I’m not only lonely, but I truly am horny, and hoped I could find a woman who was not stupid, who would be a good companion for a week, and whom I could screw!”

That last came out rather more vehemently than I had intended.

“Well, then, sure, let’s meet. But first, tell me two things.”

“Okay.”

“First, why were you going to ask me why I stopped instead of asking what a nice girl like me was doing hooking?”

“Colleen, I’ve never understood that attitude towards sex workers. They are professionals like any other. I’ve known a number – not recently – and some of them were great, and some of them weren’t, but they were all just people. I liked most of them. And one of the greatest talents a – well, not a hooker, but a courtesan – can have is empathy, and you have it by the bushel.”

Silence. “Thank you – on both accounts.”

“And your second question?” I asked.

“Ah, that I’ll save until we meet. No, I’ll ask it now, but think about it and answer then. What are your likes and dislikes in bed?”

I laughed, and said, “Well, to start, not everything I like is done in bed! So, when can we meet?”

We made a date, and selected a coffee house as a neutral meeting place, agreeing that if we didn’t hit it off, we would part as friends.

I was already seated, jittering, only half due to the coffee I’d already drunk, when a striking-looking redhead walked in and started scanning the house. I stood up, waving. “Colleen?”

She saw me, smiled and hurried over, taking my arm, and kissing me on the cheek. “And you are Rob – and I’d never have guessed you were as old as you say.”

I fetched her a cappuccino, just as Dani would have ordered, and brought it back to the table.

We started chatting about everything and nothing – the weather, the roads, how congested the roads were, and so on. But really, we were sizing each other up.

She was tallish, I’d guess about 5’ 9”, fit and slender, with a strikingly handsome face, hazel-green eyes that twinkled, and shoulder-length, wavy red hair with strands of silver starting to appear. She would have been stunning as a young woman and remained so now – although I could see the crow’s feet around her eyes, and the laugh lines around her mouth. It was an older, but definitely happy face, even merry.

Why would any man in his right mind not see the beauty of this woman? How could anyone who spoke with her not be attracted, I wondered. Then it struck me – for some reason, she looked familiar. I’d seen her face before, I just couldn’t remember where. I shrugged and focused on what she was saying.

Finally, she brought the conversation around. “Have you had a chance to think about my second question?”

“About my preferences in bed? I don’t have to think much about that.” I took a deep breath. “Dani and I quite enjoyed playing Dominance and submission games. We stumbled into it without knowing much about what we were doing, but eventually found a good, um, working relationship in it. I, uh, was the Dom.”

Colleen laughed, “Of course you were. I would never have believed you would be the submissive. What kinds of games did play? Spanking, whips, bondage, butt plugs, handcuffs – what?”

I felt myself blushing. Here I was, talking about things Dani and I had never openly discussed with someone who was almost a complete stranger. I found it discomfiting, yet she seemed completely at ease, a warm smile on her face.

“Um, I’ve read more about D/s relationships since Dani died, and I understand much more now than I did then. So – I like the feeling of power as much as the exercise of it.” She nodded.

“Dani liked being spanked. I was okay with it, but it wasn’t a big thing for me. On the other hand, I enjoyed using nipple clamps and various devices on her to both edge her, and to have her submit to something she might not have chosen in order to please me. Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely. Go on.”

“Pain was a garnish, never the main course. I certainly didn’t want to harm her, even if I did hurt her lightly and temporarily. But perhaps more than anything else, I loved to edge and embarrass her, making her wet, wanton, and desperate, especially in public. It usually led to wild, uninhibited fucking afterwards.”

I blushed again, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say, um…”

“Fucking?” she chortled. “I’ve been known to use the word now and then my own self, I have.”

We talked on for some time, and I felt more and more at ease as we did.

Finally, she placed her hands on the table, and said, “Rob, nothing that you’ve mentioned is anything short of natural and healthy. Now – would you like me to set you up with someone younger and prettier? I know a couple of girls whom you would love – and whom you would drive wild! They both love older men.”

I shook my head, “You really have no idea, do you?”

“Oh? About what?”

“Colleen, you are the sexiest woman – and the most engaging – I’ve ever met, after Dani. Why would I want to pass that up in favor of someone less experienced, and about whom I knew nothing? No, Colleen – would you let me take you away for the week?”

She sat back, and now it was her turn to blush slightly. “Go on with you, Blarney tongue!” She thought for a moment. “Yes – but on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“We go someplace local, within driving distance, so that if you realize the mistake you’ve made, you can escape with no harm done.”

I nodded happily.

She nodded. “Agreed, then.” She named a price, which was steep, but I was sure would be well worth it.

After chatting about logistics of when and where, we stood up to take our leave.

She leaned in, but this time, instead of kissing my cheek, she kissed me warmly on the lips – then sighed slightly, opened her mouth, and, to my intense surprise, darted her tongue quickly to meet mine.

She hurriedly drew back. “Oh my! Perhaps I should be paying you!”

“Now, who’s handing out Blarney?” I asked, smiling.

~~~~~

I found an upscale resort within easy driving distance that had a last-minute cancellation. For a merely exorbitant amount, they offered me a very nice croft, essentially a private villa, complete with a small kitchen, bedroom, and sitting room, adjoining an old mill that had been extensively refurbished as a resort. They included breakfast each morning in the granary restaurant if we could make it out of bed before 11 a.m.

And before I knew it, I had picked up Colleen and her two suitcases at a train station near where I lived, and driven to the resort. We were checked in quickly, escorted to our croft, bags delivered to the bedroom, bellman tipped and excused, and the door shut behind him.

So finally, we were alone, standing together in the sitting room opposite a fire popping and crackling at one end of the room. She smiled shyly up at me in the firelight, hands clasped behind her, looking through her lashes and waiting for me to make the first move.

I stepped forward and put my arms around her waist, hugging her close. Her arms went up around my neck, and she smiled warmly, her breath sweet, her perfume enticing. “I’ve been looking forward to this,” she murmured and waited.

I leaned in and kissed her, pressing my body to hers and letting her feel the erection throbbing in my pants. She moved her feet apart enough that I could push it between her legs, pressing against her mound.

I kissed her slowly, taking my time to get it right. Our tongues met eagerly, and slid over and around each other, exploring and acquainting. Her mouth wasn’t as silky as Dani’s, but it was more than sensuous and reminded me how much I had missed kissing a woman.

Kissing may actually be the most intimate act. Hookers will often do anything except kiss, and husbands and wives often lose the habit, more’s the pity. But this kiss went on…and on.

When we finally broke, we were both breathing noticeably faster.

“Oh my,” was all she said, eyes twinkling.

I moved my hands up her back, and found the zipper to her dress, then inched it down. Her smile grew, and her eyes widened.

When it reached the bottom, I let go and continued to slide my hands down so they covered her bottom, stroking it gently, then grasping her cheeks and kneading them lightly. I smiled when she sighed and put her head on my chest, face to one side.

Raising my hands, I placed them inside her dress at the shoulders, then slowly pushed them across. She dropped her arms to allow the dress to slide down her back and puddle onto the floor. Colleen stepped out of it and kicked it away.

I drew back slightly and was rewarded with a view of a red, lacy bra with a matching thong and scarlet high heels – and, interestingly, a scar running down from her breastbone and then across under her right breast. I stopped to look, then leaned forward and kissed it. Dani had had scars, too, and they had never put me off.

Colleen brushed her hand across my hair in a caress, smiling in appreciation.

I walked slowly around her, touching her shoulder, sliding a finger under her bra strap, then down the centerline of her back to the clasp of her bra. I stood, looking at it, watching her breath coming quickly, then held the strap in one finger, pulling it away from her body, then let it snap lightly against her shoulder blade. A shudder ran through her body, and I smiled.

I unhooked her bra and held the straps in my hands, then slowly drew them off her shoulders and let go, allowing her bra to fall down to her feet. I ran the back of my index finger up the middle of her back and smiled again as goosebumps rose.

She clasped her hands across her chest, then took a deep breath and lowered them, fisting them at her sides, and holding herself still. Walking around her front, I put a finger under her chin and pulled her eyes to mine. They were serious now, and there was a fire there that had been absent before.

Smiling, I put my arms around her and pulled her to me, then started to kiss her, beginning with her forehead, then her eyes, her cheeks, nose, and – briefly – her mouth, just a promise. I licked her chin, then went to one side and nipped and nibbled her ear, then licked inside the shell of her ear, gathering a quiet moan for my trouble.

Kissing along the front of her neck, down into the hollow of her chest between her collarbones, I licked down between her breasts. I slid my cheek up one side of her left breast, letting my stubble bristle, then kissed my way over to her right nipple, sucking it into my mouth, and tonguing it, rubbing the rough edge along it, making her shiver. I let it pop free, then licked down and under her right tit, finally kissing the nipple, and kissed her scar again, lightly. She brushed my hair and kissed my ear.

I clasped the skin of her tummy between my lips as if eating her, causing her to shiver again. Her arms twitched as if she wanted to raise them and hug me to her – but didn’t.

Kneeling down, kissing as I went, I reached her lacy thong. Grabbing the waistband in my mouth, I pulled it back – then let it snap, and knelt down, looking up.

She was looking down at me, her breath coming more quickly now, hair somehow disheveled, lips slightly parted, eyes wide and watching. I waited, listening to her breathing.

I smiled, feeling my control, her desire, and the place we met in the middle. I kissed little by little to her lace-cloaked labia. There was already a wet patch there, and the aroma was of an excited woman, not French perfume.

I reached up and took her waistband in my index fingers at her two hips, then ever-so-slowly eased them down. The center clung to her wet labia, then sprung free. I lowered them until they were clear of her pussy, halfway down her thighs, then leaned in, extended my tongue, and licked back to front, splitting her cunt lips.

Goosebumps rose, and her whole body shuddered violently. Kissing her mound, I stood up and looked into her eyes, which now were almost wild. “What…what do you want me to do?” she stammered, her breath catching.

I smiled and just shook my head – then reached my right hand between her thighs and stroked her pussy lips. She moved to spread her legs wider – until her thong stopped them. I traced the edges of her pussy lips, feeling her legs start to tremble. Back and forth, and again, lightly, teasing but never satisfying.

She shuddered again, and raised her hands, crossing them across her chest as if cold in the glowing warmth of the fire. I leaned in, lips pursed, and she closed her eyes and offered her mouth – which I missed and kissed the tip of her nose.

And at that moment, I slid one finger between her labia and was rewarded with the heat and slickness of a perfectly wet pussy.

“Uhhnhh…” escaped her lips, eyes remaining closed, head turned up. “What are you doing to me?”

I chuckled, “I’m making you my wanton, eager slut, girl. Any objections?”

Her whole body shuddered again and began to tremble. She shook her head. “Take me, then.”

I smiled, “Oh no. Not yet. Not even close.”

A second finger slid into her cunt beside the first, making a squelching noise. I started to work the two fingers back and forth, stroking the insides of her cunt walls, trailing across the roughness of her G-spot, making her shoulders quiver.

And so we stood for long minutes. My cock was aching it was throbbing so hard, but I was in no hurry. This was my favorite part – taking a brilliant, sophisticated, worldly woman, and turning her into a quivering, needy slut, begging to be taken, used, violated.

Picking up the pace slightly, fingers working deliberately in and out, back and around, across her G-spot, then up and around her cunt lips, making her shake and gasp, but for now, avoiding her taut clit, standing out of its hood.

After some time, her body was quaking continually, and her breath was coming in gasps. Her knees gave way, and she sank to the floor, her mouth level with my cock. I let my fingers slide from her cunt and drew wet a line of honey up her tummy and between her tits, across her chin, and stopped at her mouth.

“Please,” she said, licking my finger, “let me … give me … please …”

I stroked her hair with my other hand, and let her suck my fingers into her mouth, where she savaged them with her tongue, hungry and excited, saliva dripping from her mouth.

“Will you do whatever I want?”

“Yes, yes! Whatever you want!”

“Will you cum when I allow it, and not until I allow it?”

“Yes, yes – whenever you say, yes.”

“Will you be my willing slut, and do what I say without question, objection, or hesitation?”

She shivered again and nodded rapidly, “Yes. Anything.”

“And what do you want now?”

“Your cock. I want your cock, please!”

“And where do you want it?”

She stopped uncertain, then – “Anywhere you want to put it, but put it in me, put it in me now, please!”

I unzipped my slacks and pulled my cock free.

She grabbed it and gobbled it into her mouth.

“Hands clasped behind you, my lovely slut. Only your mouth and tongue, please.”

Jerkily, as if in a trance, she put her hands behind her and clasped them, then started to slurp my cock deep into her mouth, her neck moving her head back and forth.

“Mmm…”

I put both hands on her head and stroked her hair, then grasped it and started to pull her forward, forcing my cock into her mouth, then back, forward and deeper, then back, and again, this time making her gag – then backing off slightly. She gasped around my meat, mouth wide and panting, then swallowed, stuck her tongue out, and surprised me by moving slowly forward, taking my entire length down her throat and holding it.

I waited, not forcing her.

After a few moments, she urked, then gagged hard, and moved back until she could breathe again, coughing, then panted around my cock.

“That’s enough.”

She looked up wildly at me.

“Hands and knees slut – I’m going to fuck you like the bitch you are.”

She quickly turned on her knees until she was facing away from me, then dropped first her hands, then her shoulders to the floor, presenting her legs and glimmering pussy, legs constrained by the thong stretched at mid-thigh.

Still fully clothed, I knelt down, ripped the thong off her legs, forced her legs wider, and was rewarded by a view of her pink, swollen labia, and her wide-open, waiting cunt, a drop of honey quivering, ready to fall.

I held my cock in one hand, using the other to hold myself steady on her ass, then pushed the cockhead until it was just cresting her cunt lips – and waited.

“Please,” she whispered, panting, “please come inside me.”

I smiled and continued to wait.

“Oh…” she moaned, “Fuck me, then. Please fuck me, fuck me now!”

“Please fuck me…?” I prompted.

“Please fuck me…Master!”

I drove my cock steadily forward until it was completely sheathed in her cunt, then held still.

It wasn’t just hot and wet. It squelched, and honey dripped onto my ball sack, and it was like dipping into a heated oil.

“Oh, fuck!” she hissed, “God, that’s good,” and started to move to gain more friction.

I smacked her ass. “You move when I want you to move, slut. Not before. Understand?”

She mewed, then nodded, “Yes … uh, yes Master.”

I waited to emphasize my point and to enjoy the sensation of being buried inside her. Her legs were trembling, and there were goosebumps on her back, rippling up to her neck.

Finally, I started to move out, until only my cockhead remained inside her.

“Oh…please don’t,” she cried. “Please!”

I moved back inside her, earning a deep sigh. I continued this way, moving at a steady speed, then slowing, causing her to mew again, then faster, then slower again as I began to feel a knot in my balls as they moved up tight.

I stopped to ward off my orgasm, buried deep inside her again, listening to her pant. When I had inched back from cumming, and my balls started to relax, I started again, slow in and out, then faster, then slower again, varying the pace and the depth.

“I’m…I’m going to cum, please, I’m going to cum!” she cried.

I stopped with just my cockhead inside her cunt.

“OHHH!” she cried, knocking her head on the rug in frustration. “Please let me cum, please!”

“Tell me what you are first.”

She lifted her head, trying to push back, but I held my palm against her bum, “I’m, I’m a cunt, your slut, your devoted fucktoy.”

“And a cocksucker.”

“Yes! A cocksucker, I’m a cocksucker.”

“And when do you cum?”

She swallowed, “Only when you allow it, whenever you allow it.”

I started to move in and out again. “Good girl.”

I picked up the pace again, plunging harder and deeper, then almost withdrawing again, “Now. Cum now, cunt. Prove that you want to be my slut and cum for me now.”

“OH, FUCK!” she cried. Her whole body shuddered, her cunt clenching around my cock. I came then, too, fountaining all the pain and frustration of the past years through my body and into her willing cunt, then collapsed on top of her, barely holding myself up with one hand.

After recovering slightly, I withdrew, got up, and carried her to the bedroom as she held her arms around my neck, laying her head on my chest, smiling like the cat who had licked the cream.

I whipped the covers back with one hand, scattering the silly decorative pillows onto the opposite floor, then slid her under the sheets into bed where her hair framed her face. Quickly removing my clothes, I slid in next to her and cushioned her head on my shoulder.

“You do know your way around a woman,” she purred, stroking my chest. “Thank you. That was quite lovely.”

I smiled at her, “You’re welcome, but it was quite lovely…?” and waited.

She grinned, “Master.”

I nodded, then kissed her. “Yes. And you are my slut and my fucktoy – at least for this week,”

Her smile faded somewhat. “Rob – I know you hired me, but…I wasn’t faking. Play acting, yes, a little, but the physical stuff – you’re really very good, and you do know your way around a woman.”

I smiled at her. “Thank you, Colleen. That’s very reassuring.” I looked away, “It’s been a while.”

She put her finger under my chin, turned me back towards her, smiled, and kissed me gently on the mouth. “I think I’m going to enjoy this week.” And she slid down under the covers until her mouth found my still-wet cock…

We did enjoy the week, in bed and out of it. She played to all my fantasies – and I made sure she enjoyed herself as well. I was thrilled to find that she was multi-orgasmic. I loved edging her until she was begging to be allowed to cum – and then making her cum over and over and over until she begged me to stop.

For me, making a woman cum is the greatest thrill; intense, and immensely pleasurable.

In between times, we chatted about everything – movies, books, puzzles, food, places we’d been, regrets we had, philosophy, even politics and religion. We chatted almost non-stop when we were awake and weren’t fucking; while we were preparing meals, going to the granary for breakfast, or in the dining room some evenings, laughing, arguing, explaining, discussing – all of it, and more.

I couldn’t shake the idea that I had seen her face before, but could not for the life of me remember where.

The one thing she wouldn’t talk about what was her childhood or youth. Every time I tried to bring the subject up, she would change channels on me, often by moving down and sucking my cock – until I caught on.

Finally, when confronted about it, she sighed. “Oh Rob, I didn’t have a happy childhood, and wasn’t all that pleased with how my life went for many years. May we leave it at that? Please?” She faced me, her face somber and eyes sad.

“Of course,” I replied, kissing her and changing the subject.

The week was a dream, one that seemed full of affection and joy, of sex and playfulness, of intellect and interest – and over too soon.

As we were driving back, Colleen suddenly turned and said, “May I see your house? Where you live? I know it’s an imposition, but…I really don’t want this week to end.”

She turned to face out the windscreen again. “And, well, Rob, if it’s all right with you, I’d really like to see you again.”

When I was silent, she turned to face me, “On a date. Not for hire. For me. Rob, I really like you, and we seem to fit wonderfully together.”

Then she faced front again, “If you want to, that is.” Her face fell. “After all, I am just your whore.”

I glanced at her, then pulled the car over to the side of the road, well clear of traffic.

“Colleen, I do not think of you as a whore, but as a beautiful, intelligent woman with whom I had an unusual and quite delightful introduction.” I raised her hand to my lips and kissed it. “I would truly love to see you again.”

She looked at me, tears in her eyes. “You dear, sweet man. You have no idea what that means to me.” And leaned over and kissed me chastely on the mouth.

“Now – if you’re sure you want to see where I live, I’ll take you. You don’t want to give me a chance to clean up first?” I cocked an eyebrow at her.

She chuckled, “No, I think I’d like to see the worst – what we've had so far seems like a Christmas miracle, a very happy one.”

So, I aimed for home – and she did, indeed, see the worst.

~~~~~

We weren’t alone when we got there. My son’s car was in the drive, so I pulled in beside it. “This could be awkward. My kids have been urging me to date again, but this will be their first inkling that I’ve actually done so. This will be Sean, by the way, our son. I asked him to look after the house while I was gone.”

We got out, I pulled my suitcase out of the trunk, and I escorted Collen in.

“Hello? Sean? I’m home!”

He stepped into view from the kitchen, thunderclouds on his brow. He looked hard at Colleen, then glared at me. “Merry fucking Christmas, Dad. So, is this your, your – Christmas whore?”

“SEAN! What the fuck are you talking about? How dare you speak that way to a lady!”

“Lady, my ass. You paid $15,000 to have her stay with you over Christmas. Christmas, for God's sake! What would Mom think?" He waved her invoice at me. I had foolishly left it in the envelope, open, on my desk, and he had obviously seen it when bringing in my mail.

Shocked, I looked at Colleen, who had gone white, hand to her mouth.

Without another word, she turned and left.

“Colleen, wait!” I shouted, but she hurried down the drive, head down.

Sean grabbed my arm, “Let her go. She’s been paid, right? I'm just glad Mom didn't live to see her face!”

Hurtful as it was, what Sean said caused a lightbulb to go on in my head: I remembered where I’d seen her before. I turned to glare at him.

“You stupid little shit. You have no idea what you’ve done.”

“Me? You’re the one who has desecrated Mom’s memory by replacing her with a whore!”

I shook my arm loose. “Stay here,” and went to my office.

I retrieved Dani’s medical file and flipped through it until I came to a computer-drawn image. Seeing it felt like a punch in the gut. I shook my head, and slowly walked back out to the living room, where Sean was standing there, arms folded, his face set and angry.

“How could you, Dad? I used to look up to you as my idol, my hero! But this?”

“Just stop,” I said, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

If anything, he became angrier and pointed a finger at me. “Well, fuck you, you goddam hypocrite. If you …”

I interrupted, knocking his hand away. “There’s so much to this story that you don’t know. You’ll regret this for the rest of your yappy life. So, shut the fuck up and listen for a change.

“The story started years ago before you were born…”

So, I told him.

When I was done, he was sitting on the sofa, head in his hands, sobbing.

He looked up at me, tears in his eyes, then waved his hands as if he didn’t know what to say and left.

I picked up the invoice and the image from the living room table, got my coat, and went out to the car.

I drove to the address on the invoice. It was a neat-looking farmhouse with orderly rows of what would be her cultivated flowers in growing season, plus a steamed-up greenhouse. I got her suitcases, carefully put the sketch in a pocket, walked up the steps, and rang the bell.

After a long pause, she answered the door. She looked terrible, her eyes all puffy and red, her hair a mess. “Thank you for bringing my suitcases. I’ll take them,” and she reached for them.

I didn’t give them to her. “Colleen, please let me come in. I have something very important to tell you. Please.”

She looked at me, her eyes dead and hopeless. “What could you possibly say? Your son is right. I am a whore. I’ve always been a whore – and no good to anybody.”

“My son is a loud-mouthed fool. Please, Colleen – it’s important.”

She stared at me, then pushed the door open and walked inside.

She settled on the sofa in the living room, looking at the floor. I put the suitcases down to one side and laid the image on the table in front of her. She looked at it, then looked up at me, puzzled.

“Is that me?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Who made it? I don’t think I’ve ever seen this before.”

“You haven’t. It’s a computer image that was made from a sample of your DNA. There's a company in Virginia, Parabon NanoLabs, that specializes in this.”

She stared at me, confused. “Where did you get my DNA? We’ve never met before.”

I shook my head, “No, we haven’t met – but you have been a blessing in my life for many years. The DNA sample came from the portion of your liver you donated to Dani after she got liver cancer in her twenties. I had the sample taken three years ago, right after she died.

“You never met her, you never knew her, but you saved her life – and mine. I was going to try to find you to thank you, but all I had was this image and no way to figure out who you were.

“Colleen, if you hadn’t donated that piece of your liver almost thirty years ago, she would have died. Our children would never have been born. And I would have been alone, without Dani, for decades.”

I knelt down in front of her. “You’ve been my guardian angel all this time, Colleen. Finding you was a Christmas miracle,” and kissed her hands.

Tears were streaming down her face as she looked at me. I sat up next to her, and she collapsed into my arms, sobbing.

I stayed there, gently rubbing her back, murmuring soothing noises.

Finally, she sat up, sniffing and wiping her nose on her sleeve. I pulled a clean handkerchief from my pocket and handed it to her. She blew her nose, wiped her eyes, then started to hand the handkerchief back to me, realized what she was doing, and started laugh-crying.

“There’s one more thing, Colleen.”

She looked at me. “What?”

“Will you marry me?”