A Friend in Need is a...

Title: A Friend in Need is a...

What Was Lost is Found

For additional impact, play the songs that title each chapter.

-- Chapter 1: Stay With Me

"Oh, won't you stay with me? 'Cause you're all I need..."

"I didn't stay because he needed me. I stayed because I didn't know how to leave."

-- Dr. Lynette Takeyuracuma, PhD.

Bill had been battling a disabling, flu-like illness for nearly ten days and was finally beginning to feel better. Lynn, Dr. Lynette Takeyuracuma, PhD., had been by his side through the entire ordeal, comforting and caring for him without hesitation. At first, she'd only come by during the day, checking in and bringing him groceries. But as his condition worsened, she took a brief leave from the university and temporarily moved into one of his guest rooms.

Staying with him around the clock, Lynn fed him, changed his sweat-soaked and soiled clothes, and swapped out bedding without complaint. She helped him to the bathroom, cleaned him when necessary, and never once flinched. Most nights, Lynn didn't sleep in her guest room. Instead, she curled into the armchair beside his bed, dozing lightly, always listening. Through the worst of it, she kept cool washcloths on his burning forehead and lifted his limp body into cold baths to lower his fever. When coughing fits wracked his chest and left him gasping, she helped him sit upright. When his stomach gave out, she held the bucket. When his bowels failed, she carried him to the toilet and cleaned him afterward.

The fever spiked again the night before, just like it had the last three nights. This time, the cold towels weren't working. In a blur of urgency, he remembered Lynn running cold water, then dumping ice into the tub. Her voice... soft, worried... reached him through the haze. Around 4 a. m., the fever finally broke. When he felt strong enough to stand, she helped him out of the bath and back to his bed. He shivered violently, teeth chattering, and Lynn dried him gently, her hands warm and sure. Then, without a word, she stripped off her wet clothes and climbed naked into bed beside him, her soft, warm body molding to his. Her heat flowed into him like sunlight through cold skin. He remembered how peaceful it felt... the way their bodies fit, the way she held him... and then, sleep.

They had been longtime friends... Bill and Lynn. They met years ago when he was in grad school and she was just a freshman. When his vision began to fail, Lynn was the first to step in. She drove him to appointments, took him shopping, and helped him navigate the world with quiet ease. Their friendship had waxed and waned over the years, but somehow, they always found their way back to each other.

Now, months later, their bond had grown stronger. Though Bill's eyesight allowed him to function, it was often the finer details that eluded him. Lynn began to help more: cleaning his house, folding his clothes, even helping him dress for formal events. Slowly, their friendship had evolved. Lynn became a fixture in his home and his life. Nudity, once something to be guarded, became matter-of-fact... Bill no longer flinched when she saw him bare, and Lynn never looked away.

That morning, Bill woke to the sound of his shower running.

Golden sunlight filtered through the cracks in the drapes, and tiny motes of dust danced in the beams. It was still early. He was in clean, dry pajamas, and for the first time in days, he felt clear-headed. His body no longer ached; the fever had broken. His breath came easily.

The memories, though, were murky.

He knew Lynn had been there... always there. Moments surfaced like dream fragments: the cool touch of a washcloth, the soft hush of her voice, the warmth of her body in his bed. But other things... moments of mess, of sickness, of weakness... clung to him with shame.

A wave of embarrassment crashed over him.

Had she really carried him? Was he hallucinating when he vomited on her? How many times had she wiped his face, or worse?

Bill winced and turned his face into the pillow, trying to hide from the shame. No matter how hard he tried to reconstruct the week, it slipped away in fog and flickers... except for one thing:

Lynn never left him.

-- Chapter 2: Fever

"You give me fever... when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight..."

"The heat wasn't just in his body. It was under my skin... and I let it burn."

-- Dr. Lynette Takeyuracuma, PhD.

A vivid memory surfaced, and Bill wondered if it had been a dream... or just a hallucination. But it felt too real. Too specific. He could feel it again: the slick dampness of the towels, the cool press of her hands, the shape of her body hovering just out of reach.

It had been two nights ago, his fever raging, and Lynn working tirelessly to bring it down. He remembered being naked in bed, Lynn draping cold towels across his chest, legs, forehead... replacing them again and again as they warmed.

He remembered vomiting on her. How she peeled off her soiled clothes, leaving her in nothing but a sheer bra and panties that quickly became soaked with water and sweat. And then, with quiet resolve, she removed them too.

She never put anything else on.

And in his fevered haze, Bill stared.

Even now, awake and lucid, the image was vivid: Lynn's firm, grapefruit-sized breasts rising with every breath, and the soft, thick triangle of brown curls between her thighs. He had seen her naked long ago; back when they were new and wild, when their love was still untamed... but that was a different time. They had drifted from lovers to close friends and stayed there. Safe. Platonic.

And now, Bill cursed the feelings that resurfaced the moment her bare body entered his vision. Long-suppressed, never forgotten.

He remembered his fever breaking. Lynn's visible relief. The way she removed the towels, gently dried him, and sat on the edge of the bed, stroking his forehead, smoothing back his hair. Her hip brushed his side; warm, supple skin meeting his bare waist... and Bill had stared at her breasts again, unable to stop himself.

He'd reacted.

His cock, despite days of exhaustion, had risen, full and urgent. Lynn, tending to his face, hadn't noticed.

He began to speak, his voice thick with exhaustion but laced with something deeper. "You're my angel," he murmured. "You're so beautiful."

She laughed it off. Tried to, at least.

"Oh, Bill, you're still delirious from your fever," she said, shaking her head. "Close your eyes and get some sleep."

But Bill wasn't finished.

"No, really," he insisted. "I love you, Lynn. I've always loved you. You've got this amazing mind, a kind heart... and a sexy-as-hell body." His hand lifted and, trembling slightly, cupped her right breast. "I'd almost forgotten how incredible your body is."

A shiver passed through her.

Lynn's breath caught in her throat. Her pussy quivered. Did he just say that? her mind screamed. No... the fever. The meds. He doesn't mean it. Does he?

But his hand... large, warm, reverent... sent sparks down her chest, all the way to her core.

"Bill," she murmured gently, taking his hand in hers and easing it away. "You really are delirious. You need to sleep. We both do."

But he didn't stop.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, taking her breast in his hand again, more confidently this time. He squeezed softly, fingertips kneading the soft weight of her flesh. She gasped when his thumb brushed her areola, then again as he began to tease her nipple, gliding, circling, flicking with maddening precision.

She hadn't realized she'd closed her eyes until she heard herself sigh... long and low, a sound of need she hadn't made in years. Her nipple hardened under his touch, and her body leaned subtly into his hand.

His other hand rose and cupped her left breast. She offered no resistance. Her back arched slightly, pushing her body into his palms.

Bill remembered the shape of her lips as she opened her mouth with a soft oh, the breath that hitched as her nipples grew stiff and sensitive under his touch. Her heartbeat pounded beneath his fingers. He could feel her body responding to his touch... and the old fire igniting again between them.

"I want to make love to you," he told her, voice hoarse and hungry. "I want to be inside you again. To fuck you the way I did back then. Long and deep... until your cum soaks the bed."

He remembered the way she trembled, her hand resting atop his, not stopping him... just feeling. Letting it happen.

What Bill didn't know... couldn't know... was what that moment did to her.

That something dormant inside Lynn had awakened. Something hot and reckless and tender. Something that wasn't just arousal, but longing. The truth was... she had never stopped wanting this man.

And in that moment, she began to wonder if he had never stopped wanting her either.

-- Chapter 3: Wicked Game

"What a wicked game you played, to make me feel this way..."

"It was never a game to me. That's why it hurt."

-- Dr. Lynette Takeyuracuma, PhD.

Lynn's eyes fluttered but remained closed as Bill's hands roamed over her breasts. Pleasure pulsed through her in warm, rolling waves... touch-starved flesh coming alive under the familiar weight of his hands. It had been so long since anyone had touched her like this... with such tenderness, such reverence, such knowing. The warmth spread from her chest, igniting something fierce and molten between her thighs.

She reached up, fingers brushing lightly over his chest, then circling his nipples. They stiffened under her touch. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips... half surprise, half satisfaction. She loved arousing him, loved the power in that intimate exchange.

Her breath deepened as her mind wandered, filling with fantasies she thought she'd long buried: Bill's thick cock sliding deep into her, stretching her open, filling her with his heat. Her body tensed, hungry, already aching. A soft moan escaped her lips when he pinched her nipples, the sensation sharp and electric, shooting down to her pussy. She leaned into him, gripping his chest and wrist, her whole body drawn toward his.

Then his voice... low, hoarse, full of want... cut through the haze.

He whispered how he wanted to make love to her. To fill her. To fuck her until she came again and again. To claim every inch of her body with his lips and tongue and cock until she was flooded with his cum, overflowing with it.

Her cunt clenched hard at his words. A growl rose from deep inside her. She felt her orgasm coiling... not yet there, but building. God, he might make her cum just from his voice and his hands on her breasts.

Then...

Lynn's eyes flew open.

Wait.

This is Bill.

Her friend. Her sick, feverish, barely recovered friend. Not some anonymous lover. This was Bill.

She looked into his face... his beautiful, vulnerable, desire-filled face... and her heart squeezed.

This wasn't right. Was it?

Bill had never said he wanted her. Not really. Not in years. Other than those lust-drenched weeks when they first met, they'd always been friends. He'd put her in the friend zone. Hell, he'd built a fucking fortress around it.

It had to be the fever talking. The meds. The delirium.

The rising tide in her body had to be something else... something primal and misplaced. She hadn't been touched in so long. She'd gone months... years... managing her needs alone. Surely this was just about that. About loneliness. About longing.

Right?

Except... she knew she was lying.

The moment she thought "I'm not sexually attracted to Bill," she knew it was bullshit.

She had always wanted him. From the moment they met. Within five minutes, she knew she wanted to fuck him... and that night, she had. She still remembered the way his cock had filled her, the sound she made when he pushed inside her, the way her body responded like he was designed just for her. And how intensely she came when his cum filled her cup.

Their sex had been hot, frantic, hungry... but it didn't last. Friendship took over. And then... everything else.

He became her confidant. Her safe place. Her constant.

Except when he wasn't.

He'd always said she was like a sister. Like a best friend. Safe, solid, untouchable. But never his. Even when he and Morgan opened their relationship... exploring threesomes, dom/sub play, sex parties... he never once invited Lynn in. Not even to watch. She'd asked about it, once, half-joking. His answer was a kind smile and a change of subject.

So she watched him from the sidelines. Again.

When she couldn't be part of his sex life, she built her own. She tried relationships, tried falling in love. Married one. Got pregnant. Moved to the suburbs. That failed inside five years, and she tried casual sex, men first... academics, postgrads, the occasional stranger she met at a conference. Then women, when the men proved too disappointing. By then, the craving wasn't just for connection... it was for intensity. For escape.

So she dove into sex clubs.

She let strangers fuck her over ottomans in candlelit lofts. Let women use her face like a saddle. Took three men in a night just to see if it helped. It never did. No matter how many cocks she rode, or how many mouths she kissed, or how many orgasms she screamed through, the emptiness remained. Bill's voice still echoed in the silence that followed... describing his latest lover while Lynn sipped wine and smiled through her jealousy.

Still, nothing stopped the loop.

And that night on the couch? When they'd masturbated side by side, watching porn? She came harder than she ever had. She had hoped... prayed... that it would lead to something. But it didn't.

He married Morgan.

She got married. It didn't last. She went from one man to another, then one woman to another. She lost count of how many guys she fucked, how many cocks she sucked, how many pussyies she licked. It wasn't good enough... none of them were good enough. Nothing could fill the void.

And after that, every attempt she made... subtle or bold... was met with kindness... and a gentle wall. Except that last time. The time after he had started seeing Susie.

That last time was different.

It wasn't subtle. It wasn't patient. She forced the issue.

He'd just started seeing Susie... sweet, peppy, vanilla Susie... and Lynn couldn't pretend anymore. That night, they were watching porn, an old-school French film with grainy lighting and messy, loud fucking. She was already buzzed from the whiskey. She saw the way Bill adjusted himself beneath the blanket, the tent in his gym shorts undeniable.

So she made the first move.

She slid onto his lap without a word, straddled him, and pulled her top off, baring her tits inches from his face. "You're hard," she whispered. "And I'm soaked. Why are we still pretending?"

Bill froze. Tried to laugh it off. "Lynn, come on..."

She didn't listen. She rolled her hips, dragging her pussy along the ridge of his cock through his shorts. "I want to feel you inside me," she murmured, grinding harder. "I want your cum filling me. I want you to finally fuck me like you used to."

He stammered. Told her to stop. But she didn't. She reached down, yanked his shorts past his hips, and his cock sprang free... thick, hard, already slick with precum.

It was all the permission she needed.

Lynn dropped to her knees on the carpet and took him into her mouth.

The moment her lips sealed around his shaft, Bill groaned... not in protest, but surrender. She sucked him deep, her throat relaxing with practiced hunger. She moaned as his cock throbbed on her tongue, her hands stroking the base as she bobbed. She knew exactly what to do. She worshipped him. Made love to his cock with her mouth.

He whimpered her name. His hips moved. His fingers slipped between her legs and found her soaked folds. She was dripping down her thighs, so wet she could hear the slickness each time his fingers curled inside her.

She thought she'd won.

She sucked harder. He bucked. She felt him tense, and then he exploded... a hot, thick gush down her throat. She swallowed greedily, loving the taste of him, the texture, the sheer volume. He came like he hadn't in weeks, and she licked him clean, milking the last drops from his cock with reverence.

Then, hungry for more, she climbed back into his lap and impaled herself on his still-hard shaft.

"Finally," she whispered, bouncing slowly on his cock. "Finally, you see me."

His hands gripped her hips. His mouth found her tits. She rode him hard, desperate for her release. Desperate for his. He thrust into her, urgent, needful. She felt it build, felt herself edging toward the moment she'd fantasized about for years. Felt him throb.

And then...

He pushed her off.

And he still grunted and came, spraying thick ropes of his hot cum on her and the carpet. It was like an evil tease. The ultimate rejection. We can have fun, but you can't have me... you're not the one I want to fill with my seed.

After his orgasm ended.

"Lynn, I can't. I shouldn't have... you're my best friend," he said, standing, cock still wet from her pussy, half hard, dripping cum, dangling in shame.

She stared at him, stunned. Her pussy still clenched around nothing. Her orgasm stalled like a car skidding to a stop.

"You fucking coward," she spat. "I've been right in front of you for years."

She dressed in silence, shaking, her chest tight with rage and humiliation. And when she left that night, she didn't speak to him for weeks, and when she did, it was different, cold, distant, strained.

But the memory never faded.

Not the anger. Not even the rejection. What stayed with her... what haunted her for years... was the taste of him. The way he'd moaned as she sucked his cock. The way his pubic hair scratched her nose. The weight of him on her tongue. The hot, almost bitter flood of cum that filled her mouth and her chest with something dangerously close to joy.

She'd masturbated to that moment more times than she could count. Even when she was with other lovers. Even when she swore she was done with him.

Even now.

Bill moved in with Susie; they stopped talking to each other altogether. They hadn't talked in three years.

And since she returned, he never expressed interest, never tried anything.

Until now.

Until his hand was on her breast. His words in her ear.

Until he said he loved her.

The words rang in her ears, louder than his moans, louder than her doubts. He said he loved her.

Her thoughts spun.

She remembered that night... the one that crept back into her dreams, her fantasies, her long, lonely orgasms. Sabrina. The red Shelby Mustang in the driveway. The blinds left open just enough. She hadn't meant to spy. At least, that's what she told herself.

But when she heard the sounds... moaning, gasping, his voice low and urgent... curiosity had hooked her like a claw. And what she saw through the patio doors stopped her breath.

Sabrina. Bare, black-haired, lithe, and flexing. Sitting full on Bill's face in a hungry sixty-nine. Lynn's eyes locked on Bill's cock... thick, erect, glistening. The younger woman devoured it with practiced precision, moaning around his shaft as she rocked her pussy over his mouth.

And Bill... God... he was in it. His face was buried in Sabrina's slick folds, his tongue moving like a man starved. He looked... happy. Alive. Like he belonged there. Like she was exactly where he wanted to be.

When Sabrina came, she screamed. Her thighs clenched. Her ass lifted and dropped rhythmically as she rubbed her clit and shook. Bill held her in place like he was drinking every drop of her orgasm.

Lynn had been wet from the first moan, but now her skirt was bunched at her waist, and her panties hung from the deck chair. Two fingers buried in her cunt, she watched, unable to stop. Sabrina slid down his body and mounted him in reverse cowgirl... facing Lynn, open to her... and began to ride.

Lynn's breath caught as she saw Sabrina's tight, flushed pussy stretch around Bill's thick cock. Watched the skin of his shaft glisten as it disappeared inside her. Watched it reappear, wet and shining. Again and again. Sabrina's hips moved with rhythmic control, and Lynn could see her mouth form the words I'm cumming! as she squirted, gushing down onto Bill's groin.

Lynn came too... her fingers slick, soaked, her clit swollen and aching. She bit her lip to stifle the moan. And then again. And again.

Sabrina barely gave him a break. Ten minutes later, Bill was hard again, thrusting into her missionary style. Lynn watched, fingers still working, as they kissed, tangled, switched positions... missionary, cowgirl, spooning, even standing with her back to the wall. She watched for over an hour, drenched in sweat and her own release, cumming over and over again.

The final act seared itself into Lynn's memory.

Sabrina dropped to all fours, her pussy and thighs still wet with cum, and offered Bill her ass. He didn't hesitate. Lynn's breath caught as his cock breached her tight hole. The young woman gasped, eyes wide with ecstasy, as Bill grabbed her hips and slammed into her. Fast. Hard. Dominant.

They were almost facing the patio doors. Facing her.

Lynn nearly screamed when she came again, her palm flat over her mouth to muffle the cry. Bill's cock pistoned in and out of Sabrina's tight little ass, and the girl took it with wild abandon, moaning, whimpering, begging for more. When he came, it was loud... primal. Lynn saw his cock pulse, saw his cum spill out around the tight seal of Sabrina's asshole.

And then... still inside her... he collapsed on top of her, both of them panting, glowing with sweat and satisfaction.

Lynn sat frozen for a long time, fingers still sticky between her legs, watching the rise and fall of their naked, tangled bodies. When it was clear they'd fallen asleep... Bill's cock still embedded in the girl's ass... she quietly slipped away, barefoot, shaken.

Since that night, Bill had reestablished permanent residency in her masturbation fantasies. And every time she came imagining him, she hated herself a little more.

It wasn't just that she'd watched them. It was that she'd stayed. That she couldn't tear herself away even when she saw the love in Bill's eyes... the tenderness in the way he stroked Sabrina's hair afterward, the smile on his face when the younger woman curled into him like she belonged there. Lynn had rubbed her clit furiously through the burn of jealousy and the sting of shame, her orgasm crashing through her with the force of grief.

She didn't just want to be fucked like that. She wanted to be wanted like that.

Needed.

Claimed.

But she wasn't. She was the observer. The one who wiped his counter and folded his clothes. The one who showed up late, found the door already closed, and made herself cum alone in the dark.

That night, something shifted. Not just between her and Bill, but inside her. A part of her splintered... quietly, cleanly... like porcelain dropped on tile. From that point on, every orgasm was a performance. Every masturbation session, a distraction. She stopped pretending she was searching for love and started chasing only sensation.

She told herself she was in control. That she didn't need Bill. That she didn't need anyone.

But it was a lie.

Because no matter how many times she swore she was over him, his face still flickered behind her eyes when she closed them. His name still lingered on the edge of her tongue when she came. His voice... those low, throaty moans... were etched into her like a brand.

And worst of all?

She still wanted to be Sabrina.

Not because she was younger, or tighter, or prettier.

But because Bill let her in.

Because Bill wanted her without fear, without restraint, without apology.

And Lynn had never gotten that from him. Not once.

That truth pulsed inside her... ugly, electric... as his fingers drifted down her belly.

Her breath caught. Her legs parted before she could think to stop them. Instinct. Desperation.

Her body welcomed his touch even as her heart screamed for her to pull away.

His fingertips grazed the edge of her curls, and she shuddered. Her lips were wet, open, aching for more. But her mind was split, spinning... torn between years of rejection and this sudden, fevered intimacy. Was he touching her because he remembered who she was? Or just because she was there?

She didn't know.

But when his fingers finally slid between her folds, parting her gently, her whole body trembled.

The heat, the need... it was unbearable.

Lynn moaned softly and arched into him. Just once.

Just enough to betray everything she swore she wouldn't feel again.

So who was she kidding?

When his fingers slid inside, she nearly came. Her long, low sigh accompanied his fingers as they delved into her hot channel.

Bill smiled, sensing her surrender... but he couldn't know what it cost her.

His fingers moved slowly at first, tentative, sliding between the slick heat of her folds. He found her center without hesitation, but not because he remembered her... not yet. It was instinct. Muscle memory. The kind that didn't need names.

Lynn held her breath as his fingers moved inside her. She clenched around them, desperate and ashamed of how ready she was. Her eyes fluttered shut.

Don't feel anything, she told herself.

But her body betrayed her. Again.

Yes, she wanted him. Yes, her body was screaming for him. But... he was sick. He might not remember any of this. His words might be nothing but fever dreams.

And in mere seconds, they would pass the point of no return.

Lynn closed her eyes.

And waited to see what her heart... and his hands... would do next.

-- Chapter 4: Come Undone

"Who do you need, who do you love, when you come undone?"

"He undoes me with silence more than he ever could with touch."

-- Dr. Lynette Takeyuracuma, PhD.

What Bill remembered most clearly was the way Lynn looked just before it happened... flushed, breathless, eyes half-lidded with hunger. She had spread her legs for him, wet and open. But when his fingers slipped between her folds, she stopped him.

Gently, she took his hand from her breast, guiding it down to rest softly against her thigh. Both his hands now lay warm on her legs, but she held them there, stilling his motion.

"No, Bill," she said softly, sweetly. "Not now. Not like this. You're still sick... It's not right. We can do this another time, just... not tonight."

She scooted backward, her elbow brushing his erection.

"Oh!" she gasped, startled by its size and heat. His cock bobbed beside her, thick and eager. Her hand moved on instinct, fingers curling around the base, her palm cradling its weight. She hadn't touched him like this in years, but her body remembered.

Memories flooded her mind... how he'd felt inside her, how he sounded when he came. Her cunt pulsed, releasing a fresh flood of arousal.

"Oh, Bill..." she groaned, still gripping him. "We can't... not when you're like this..." But her hand betrayed her, beginning to slide... tentatively, then more firmly... along his ridged, veiny shaft.

"Lynn, I want you so bad," Bill breathed. "Look at me. Look how hard I am. That's for you."

His eyes searched hers, full of aching desire. She could feel him throbbing in her hand. Then he added a line she'd heard from others before, one meant to pressure, to guilt.

"You can't leave me like this. Not now. Not like this."

Lynn had rolled her eyes at that line more times than she could count. But not this time. Not with him.

Because this time, she didn't want to leave him like that either.

She stroked him again... slow, sure... watching as a bead of precum welled at the tip. The head of his cock looked swollen, tight, almost ready to burst.

Her thumb spread the glistening liquid across the smooth skin, and Bill groaned.

That sound. That helpless, grateful sound.

Lynn leaned in and touched her tongue to the tip of his cock, lifting the next droplet free. She let it sit on her tongue, savoring the taste... salty, sharp, unmistakably him.

Bill's hips jerked. She stroked him faster... watched his face twist with pleasure. Lynn's hand steadily moved over the length of his rigid shaft as his fingers slid along her thigh sending bolts of electricity arcing to her clit. Then, with a sudden shift, she took his hand in hers, brought it to her mound, and pressed it firmly between her thighs.

His fingers met her heat. Her lips parted. She moaned... shocked at the intensity. She rubbed herself with his hand.

She rubbed herself against his fingers, her breath coming in desperate gasps. Then she grabbed his wrist and held it steady as she ground her clit against his palm. She moved his fingers between her swollen lips. Holding his hand firmly, Lynn slid Bill's fingers inside her, stroking them in and out. She pressed and rubbed his slick fingers into her clit.

"Do me too," she gasped. "Make me cum!"

Lynn released his hand and Bill's thick fingers, determined, spreading her slick folds, finding her entrance like their first night. He plunged two fingers inside her, and her body convulsed.

"UHH... fuck!" Lynn cried, arching her hips.

Bill's long fingers drove deep... three knuckles in... pumping... driving them over and over... then curled and flexed, finding the spot he didn't know he'd been looking for. Lynn exploded.

"OH! FUCK YES!" she screamed, her hand clamping around his cock as her orgasm overtook her.

Her juices flooded over his fingers. She bucked and twisted, eyes wide, mouth open in ecstasy. Another orgasm rolled through her, even harder than the first.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she cried out, jerking his cock, her own hips slamming into his hand.

Bill groaned as her cries drove him to the edge. His hips lifted off the bed.

His orgasm hit him like fire... white-hot and violent. Cum erupted from his cock in a thick, powerful arc.

"OH FUCK," he moaned, eyes squeezed shut, every muscle seizing.

Another blast shot from him, and Lynn dove down, wrapping her lips around the head just in time to catch it. She drank him in, sucking and stroking him as he pulsed between her lips, wave after wave of hot, bitter seed filling her mouth.

She didn't stop. Didn't slow. His cock spasmed again and again, and she swallowed each load as it came. His groans became gasps, his body twitching, drained.

Lynn was lost in the rhythm... his cock in her mouth, his fingers inside her. Her orgasm seemed to go on and on, building and breaking like waves. Cum dripped from between her legs, from her chin, smeared her thighs, her face, wet the sheets.

She didn't even know how many times she came... only that she couldn't stop. And that she didn't want to.

When he finally stopped pulsing, when his fingers stilled, Lynn let him slip from her mouth and hand, trembling.

They collapsed.

Bill, boneless and limp, fell onto his back. Lynn lay beside him, her head resting on his chest, listening to his heart thunder beneath her cheek.

Eventually, she rose. Quietly, she cleaned them both. She removed the plastic sheet from under him... left over from the cold baths and ice packs... and hung it in the bathroom.

Then she came back, climbed into bed, and pulled the covers over them. Her naked body curled against his, her hand stroking his chest in slow, gentle patterns.

And that's the last thing he remembered...

Lynn's head resting on his chest, her fingers in his hair, and the soft whisper of her breath against his neck.

-- Chapter 5: Fade Into You

"I want to hold the hand inside you..."

"I let myself disappear into him. Just for the night. Just to feel seen."

-- Dr. Lynette Takeyuracuma, PhD.

The following morning, Bill woke in clean pajamas, tangled in warm sheets, and wondered if it had all just been a wishful dream. His body still hummed with memory... touch, scent, release... but his mind remained foggy. Had it really happened?

Moments later, the door creaked open, and Lynn walked in.

Her hair was wet, fresh from the shower, and she wore one of his old concert T-shirts... white, thin, and completely translucent where it clung to her damp skin. It wasn't long enough to cover everything. Her thick brown bush, still wet, peeked out beneath the hem. Her nipples, dark and firm, pressed against the clinging fabric.

'Jenny Lewis' stretched across her chest in bold black letters... now distorted by the full weight of her breasts. Bill's eyes widened as the image of the night before pulsed vividly through him.

"Good morning," Lynn said brightly, her voice the same cheerful tone she always used. But something in her eyes was different.

Bill tried to speak, but his mouth had gone dry. His cock stirred beneath the covers, already half-hard and growing. Lynn's eyes flicked down, noting the movement. A subtle smile curved her lips.

She sat on the edge of the bed, thigh against his side, warm and wet through the shirt. She tucked her leg up, hooking one foot behind her knee... legs open, pussy exposed. Bill didn't even pretend not to look.

A tattoo... a scorpion... decorated the inside of her thigh. He had never noticed it before. Its curled stinger, pointing at the small gap between the thick flesh of her lips; an enticement as to what lay beyond.

"Oh yeah," Lynn said casually. "I don't know if you remember, but you puked and shit on me last night." She grinned. "My clothes are still in the dryer. This shirt was the only thing I could find... unless you prefer me naked."

Bill's cock twitched violently beneath the blanket. He clutched it through the fabric, willing it to behave. It did not.

Lynn didn't elaborate. She didn't bring up the night before. She didn't ask if he remembered what happened. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Because what had happened... if he did remember... meant everything had changed. And if he didn't... maybe it never happened at all.

She told herself she wore the shirt because it was convenient. But she knew better. She wanted him to see her. To remember. To want more.

And judging by the way he looked at her, he did.

"Yeah, baby, get naked," Bill quipped, falling into the old teasing tone they often used.

It was a deflection. Classic Bill. But Lynn played along.

"Pfft. You wish," she laughed. "I don't think you could handle me naked."

She wanted to take the shirt off. Wanted to mount him right then and there. But she held back. She'd crossed that line once before, and it had gone terribly. She wouldn't let herself get hurt again.

Still, she could feel how warm he was. Too warm.

Lynn leaned in and placed the back of her hand against his forehead.

Her smile faded. "Damn. You're still running a fever."

Bill groaned, disappointment coloring his face along with the flush in his cheeks.

"I thought we got it out of you last night," she said, only half realizing what that sounded like. Her tone shifted, practical again. "You need something in your stomach. Let me get breakfast going."

"Yeah, I could eat," Bill muttered, though the throb in his cock distracted him far more than any hunger.

Lynn stood, and Bill's eyes followed the gentle sway of her ass.

Then she bent over.

She didn't think. Just noticed a towel half-tucked under the bed, stepped to the side, and bent to retrieve it.

Bill's breath caught.

Her legs parted slightly as she reached down, and her pussy opened for him... wet, red, glistening.

Less than two feet away.

His heart skipped. His cock flexed painfully against his pajamas.

Lynn straightened, oblivious, and left the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, Bill tossed the covers off. He pulled his cock through the fly of his PJs and gripped it hard, mind swirling with images of Lynn... last night, this morning, all the years in between.

He stroked his cock, his hand a blur. His orgasm came fast and hard. He groaned, spilling his cum into a handful of tissues, feeling the same burning fire shoot through him as it had the night before.

Just as he tucked himself away, the door opened again. Lynn had returned with a tray of breakfast... and this time, she wore a robe.

She paused, studying him. "You look more flushed than before."

"Just hungry," Bill said quickly, trying not to sound out of breath.

She didn't push. She set the tray down and sat with him while he ate.

But soon after breakfast, things took a turn.

Bill couldn't keep the food down. He lost everything in the bathroom and spent the rest of the day out of it again, spiraling back into fever and fatigue.

Lynn was focused on him all day... cooling him, medicating him, watching over him. The events of the night before and that morning faded into the background, shoved aside by the reality of illness and care.

But they didn't disappear.

They waited. Like embers beneath ash. Glowing, quiet, patient.

-- Chapter 6: Fire and Rain

"I've seen fire and I've seen rain, but I always thought I'd see you again..."

"She's still here... but I keep losing her anyway."

-- Bill Fournier

The following morning, Bill lay in bed feeling better than he had in days. The steady sound of the shower running soothed him, and from the en suite bathroom, he heard Lynn's soft voice singing a tune that struck a chord in his heart.

"Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain..."

God, Bill thought. He loved that song. It always hit him in the gut. The quiet sadness, the wistful hope. It reminded him of all the friendships he'd lost... too many of them because of his own choices. Like his friend Kelly... because of his stupid, selfish desires.

"I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend..."

He swallowed hard.

Lynn's voice drifted through the open door, soft and unpolished but beautiful, and a shiver ran down his spine. He'd almost lost her once. He wasn't going to lose her again.

But the memory of the other night pressed in: the sound of her voice moaning his name, the heat of her body, the feel of her breasts under his palms, and her mouth... God, her mouth on his cock.

He was getting hard just thinking about it. And he couldn't stop thinking about it.

I told her I wanted to make love to her... and she didn't run. She wanted it, too. I told her I loved her. Did I mean it?

He didn't know.

Did she still feel the same way?

The shower shut off.

Bill's train of thought derailed.

Through the cracked door, he saw her reflection in the full-length mirror across from the vanity... naked, dripping, radiant.

Lynn stepped from the shower like a woman born from steam, water cascading down her lean, freckled body. Her brown hair hung in dark, soaked waves, clinging to her sharp collarbones and shoulders. Her face was flushed from the heat, her lips slightly parted, breath shallow.

Even through the glass, her eyes held that wild, cutting intelligence that always made Bill feel like he was the one under examination.

Her body hadn't changed... not in the ways that mattered. Her breasts, full and natural, jutted high from her chest, capped by dark, swollen nipples that pebbled from the cool air. Her narrow waist curved into the strong flare of hips he had once gripped so hard she bruised. Her thick, untrimmed bush shimmered with moisture, parted just enough to reveal the glisten between her thighs.

Bill's cock stirred... then surged fully erect.

He meant to look away. He told himself to. But he didn't move. Couldn't. He sat frozen, watching her through the mirror as if it were a screen... distant enough to pretend he wasn't part of it.

Lynn reached for a towel, but instead of wrapping it around herself, she slowly ran it over her breasts, her thighs, deliberately lingering over her nipples. Then she let it drop.

And paused.

Bill held his breath.

She raised both hands, cupping her breasts, lifting them, squeezing them together. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her mouth parted in a silent moan. Then, to his disbelief, she bent forward and took one nipple into her mouth, tongue circling slowly, hungrily. She sucked on it with indulgent pressure, moaning softly, then switched to the other, flicking and biting the tip like she couldn't help herself.

Bill's mouth went dry. His heart pounded in his ears.

She was putting on a show.

She knew someone was watching... she knew he was watching. But she didn't look toward the door. Not once. That was the power in it... the feigned ignorance, the performance so natural it passed as private.

One hand drifted down her belly. She didn't rush. Her fingers trailed across her hip, down into the wet thatch of hair between her legs. She rubbed herself in slow, tight circles, her hips responding with subtle thrusts... a rhythm too practiced, too fluid to be anything but real. She moaned softly into her breast, then pulled away and stepped wider.

She lifted one foot onto the toilet seat, opening herself completely to the mirror.

To him.

Her fingers returned, slick and deliberate. She licked two, coating them with spit, and slipped them between her folds. The sound was faint but audible... wet and obscene. Her other hand pinched a nipple hard, rolling it between her fingers, as the fingers between her legs pushed deeper.

Bill was breathing through his mouth now, quiet and fast.

She wasn't just pleasuring herself. She was consuming herself... lost in it, feeding on it. Her body arched into her own touch, and her expression twisted into something almost pained. She moaned louder, not caring who heard... or maybe hoping someone did.

She pulled her fingers out, glistening with her arousal, and raised them to her mouth.

Bill watched, transfixed, as her tongue slid around her fingers, sucking them in like candy. Her lips hollowed, cheeks pulling tight as she savored her own taste. Then her hand dove back down, this time moving faster, harder... urgent.

He couldn't help it anymore. The blanket was tossed aside. His hand wrapped around his cock, and he began stroking... slow, at first, mimicking her rhythm. His eyes never left her reflection. He matched her pace. Matched her moans. Matched her growing desperation.

Lynn gasped, fingers working deep inside herself. Her body rocked forward, her foot braced, her other hand slapping against the vanity for balance. She was losing control now... close. So close.

Bill was right there with her.

Then...

"ACHOO!"

The sneeze ripped from him in a loud, helpless explosion... once, twice, three times in rapid succession.

Silence.

Lynn froze.

Her fingers stopped mid-thrust. Her head whipped slightly, just enough for the mirror to catch her eyes... wide, startled... but then narrowing. She saw him.

And Bill knew, instantly, that she had known all along.

She didn't panic. She didn't flinch. But the spell broke.

By the time he blinked the moisture from his eyes and looked back up, she had pulled a T-shirt over her head and picked up her brush, her face flushed with more than arousal now... irritation, maybe. Or amusement.

She walked slowly toward the door, running the brush through her wet hair, glancing at him sideways in the mirror. His blanket was back over his lap, but the tent was obvious.

Lynn smirked.

"Enjoy the show?" she asked, her voice honeyed, dry, and perfectly casual.

"Uh... sorry," Bill stammered.

"If I knew you were watching," she said, half-laughing, "I would've finished. I do like an audience."

"I didn't mean... "

"Chill, Bill," she interrupted, walking toward the bed. "Just messing with you. Besides, I've seen your wretched naked body and limp dick enough this week. Good to know it still works."

Bill swallowed. His cock twitched under the covers.

"How are you feeling, by the way? I mean, getting past the whole watching me masturbate thing."

She stood two feet from him, damp hair curling at the ends. She wore another of his concert tees... this one with Santana stretched comically across her chest. The shirt clung wetly to her skin. Her brown nipples were clearly visible. The hem stopped at her waist, her brown, furry muff fully exposed, and her thick, dark labia, engorged from her play, hung open, glistening with dew.

Bill's breath caught.

The fleshy lips formed a dark seam, hanging like an invitation between the brushy curls. He imagined her spreading her legs for him again, revealing that canyon he ached to fall into.

"I'm feeling... fucking great," he managed, sitting up straighter.

Lynn noticed the movement under his blanket. She smiled knowingly.

"Cuss words and posture. Definitely better." She saw his eyes dart down. She knew what she was doing. She wanted him to look. She picked that shirt on purpose. She'd tried others... none short or sheer enough.

She told herself it wasn't seduction. Just... a test. A reminder.

Did he remember what he said the other night? That he loved her?

Or was it all just fevered delirium?

He'd never tried to seduce her before... not really. He respected her. Sometimes more than she respected herself. But maybe... maybe things had shifted.

"Oh," she said, as if suddenly remembering, "you puked on me again last night. At least you didn't shit on me like the night before."

Bill groaned.

"I'm out of clean underwear," she added, with a grin. "So this shirt's all I've got."

-- Chapter 7: I Want You (She's So Heavy)

"I want you... I want you so bad... it's driving me mad..."

"She knows exactly what she's doing... and I don't care if it ruins me."

-- Bill Fournier

"But... your..." Bill blinked, confused. "Didn't you wash your clothes yesterday?"

Lynn smiled and lied. "Yeah. They're still in the washer. Guess it's the price I pay for caring for your sick self."

As casually as scratching an itch, she dragged her hand across her mound, parting her lips. Her fingers dipped between them, past the first knuckle.

"Do you like it?" she teased, raising her glistening fingertip to her mouth and circling her tongue around it slowly. "Yesterday, you told me you wanted me naked. Want me to do that now? Or maybe finish rubbing myself out for you?"

Bill's mouth opened, but no words came. His cock throbbed painfully under the blankets.

"It's just... It's been a long time..." he managed. Then, with an effort, "Did something happen last night?"

"Like you puked on me again?" Lynn replied, playing dumb. "Your fever spiked so high I had to throw you in another ice bath. Used every cube of ice in both freezers."

Bill exhaled, flustered. "No, I mean... did we... You know..."

"Have sex? Did I let you fuck me?" Lynn grinned. "God, no. Not last night. But we did sleep together."

She paused just long enough to make it ambiguous. Then added with a wink, "You were in rough shape. Fever finally broke, and you were freezing. I dried you off and climbed under the covers to warm you up. We passed out. First time we've slept naked together in what... forever?"

She lied again. Conveniently. Deliberately.

"I even put pajamas on you this morning. I'm getting pretty damn good at dressing you in your sleep. Not bad for a so-called airhead physics professor."

"You're the farthest thing from an airhead I know," Bill said quickly. His brain whirred. "I don't remember much. The ice bath, maybe. But we didn't do anything?"

"Nope," Lynn replied lightly. "The cold shriveled your junk pretty bad. You were about as responsive as a wet dishcloth, even when I rubbed my hot naked body all over you. I did too, for real, trying to warm you up. I lay on top of you and rubbed my body up and down. I'll admit, I got a little excited. But not you, not even a flinch. If it weren't for you being so sick, I might have felt... rejected."

As she spoke, she swayed her hips and began tracing her hands from her breasts down the curve of her stomach, over her thighs... each word emphasized with a sensual glide of her palms. She ended the erotic display by dragging her hands through her muff.

"If you'd been as hard as you are now..." She glanced down at the blanket, clearly noticing the tent. "I might've taken advantage. I've been celibate for a while, and a warm, hard cock beats a cold dildo, any day."

Bill's cock jerked in response.

Lynn grinned and sat on the bed, like the day before, but closer this time... close enough that Bill could smell her arousal, see the detail of her parted lips, the glint of moisture along her folds. Her scent made his head spin.

"Are you sure you're feeling better?" she asked, resting her hand casually on his hip.

Except it wasn't his hip.

Her hand landed directly on his cock.

Bill groaned softly, trying not to thrust into her palm.

"Oh my," Lynn said, feigning surprise. "Need to watch where I put my hand." She squeezed and lightly gripped his shaft. Bill's cock throbbed, and she let go... too soon.

"Uh... yeah. Feeling much better, actually," Bill said, his voice rough.

"Sure? You look a bit flushed."

"Must be all these blankets."

Her eyes twinkled with mischief. Then: "You hungry? Want to eat something tasty?"

Bill swallowed. "Famished."

"In more ways than one?" Lynn teased.

He didn't answer. But he didn't need to.

"Excellent." She gave a satisfied smile. "You're almost out of the woods. I have to go to work later. I won't be back until late tomorrow. Gotta make sure I still have a job. Think you can manage without me?"

Bill nodded. "If I keep feeling like this, I'll be fine."

"But first," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Shower. You reek. Normally I'd say food first, but your ass needs scrubbing."

She stood and extended a hand.

Bill hesitated. His erection was raging. "Maybe... maybe you could start breakfast? I'll catch up."

"You sure?" Lynn raised an eyebrow. "You haven't stood without help in four days. And you've barely eaten. Think you can manage?"

"I feel good," he insisted. "I can do it."

"Prove it," she challenged. "Stand on your own, no wobbling. And I'll leave you to your own naked devices."

Bill sighed. He knew he wasn't getting out of this.

He sat up, swung his legs off the bed, and stood.

The blanket fell.

His cock sprang out of his fly like a cannon salute. Thick, hard, the head purple and shiny with precum.

He fumbled to cover himself, knees wobbling. Lynn caught him with a laugh.

"Don't worry about that thing," she smirked. "I'm going to see it in a minute anyway. Good to know it's still got spirit."

She guided his arm over her shoulder and helped him into the bathroom.

"Take off your jammies," she said once he leaned against the counter.

Bill hesitated again.

He'd been naked in front of her many times over the past week... but never like this. Never hard. Never wanting her like this. And she hadn't brought up the other night. Maybe she was waiting for him to do it. Or maybe she was telling him with everything she was doing.

Lynn turned on the shower. The room filled with steam and quiet.

Then she turned back to him, her voice softer.

"What am I going to do with you?" she murmured.

She looked down at the bulge in his pajamas. Then, without warning, knelt before him.

Bill gripped the vanity.

Lynn pulled down his pajamas in one motion. His stiff cock sprang free... and bounced against her cheek.

She didn't flinch.

Her fingers wrapped around him, tight and sure.

She didn't stroke. Not at first. She just held him. The heat of his skin, the pulse in her palm... it grounded her. Emboldened her.

And then, slowly, she began to move her hand. Not sliding... pressing. Tight enough that his skin moved with her hand. Her eyes were fixed on his.

Bill moaned softly, helplessly.

Lynn leaned in and licked the tip.

Her lips slid over his head, over the ridge of his glans, and pressed tight to his shaft. Lynn hummed, sucking softly on his head.

Her eyes... now a stormy gray... locked with his.

Bill groaned.

She slowly slid him out of her mouth, tongue swirling around the tip. Then came the smile.

Not playful.

Not innocent.

A grin... mischievous, wicked, and deeply, deeply intentional.

-- Chapter 8: Tempted

"Tempted by the fruit of another... tempted but the truth is discovered..."

"If he touches me now, I might forgive him everything."

-- Dr. Lynette Takeyuracuma, PhD.

"Feeling better, I see," Lynn murmured, a little smile curving her lips as she stroked him with one hand. Her tone was playful, but edged with something sharper. "If you'd been this hard last night, I might've ridden you like a pony. Probably more than once."

She tilted her head, still kneeling. "Is this from watching me after the shower? Or maybe you were lying there thinking about one of your fuck buddies. The woman with the Bentley? She's cute. Real polished. I could see it."

Bill's pulse quickened. "No. Not her," he said, trying to play it off. "It's just morning wood. It'll go down."

He still couldn't, wouldn't admit she caused his erection.

But they both knew it wouldn't. Not with her hand on him. Not with the way she was looking at him... amused, predatory, and maybe just a little hurt.

"I'd do her... in a heartbeat," Lynn said casually, like she was ordering coffee. "Grind my muff on her face. Get her all messy. I bet she'd like that. Bet she'd love my ten-inch strap-on. Fuck her from behind like you do. Make her walk funny after."

Bill choked slightly. "Lynn..."

"Sorry, is that too much?" she smirked. "Just trying to understand what kind of company you keep these days."

She stood slowly, her hand gliding up the underside of his cock before letting go. He shivered from the loss of contact... though not for long. She peeled off her T-shirt and let it fall, standing nude in front of him. Her hands glided over her bare tits and between her legs.

Bill's mouth parted, but no words came out.

"I have a confession," Lynn said, stepping in close. Her breasts brushed his chest, and she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Funny, the last time I confessed, I was kneeling. Not in prayer. I was naked like this, sucking the good Father's cock as penance for my sins. Go figure."

Lynn dragged her fingernails down the sides of Bill's torso.

"Anyway, I got curious the other night, after you passed out. I was feeling randy, took a shower, hit the sauna, and turned on your TV. Figured I'd poke around."

Bill stiffened... more emotionally than physically, for once.

"I found your porn folder, but that wasn't the interesting part. That little media server? Home Movies? Thought it was something cute, like old baseball games or birthday parties."

She grinned.

"It wanted a PIN. I guessed it. Third try. I think it's sweet you used my birthday."

Bill opened his mouth to protest... but there was no defense.

"You've got quite the archive," she said. "Some vintage stuff. A couple of faces I recognized. Morgan's sister? Really? I would've never guessed. She always seemed like such a prude."

She was watching his reaction, gauging him, her voice light but her eyes sharp.

"And Simone," she added after a pause. "Multiple videos. I knew you two hooked up, but... damn. You really went back for seconds. Thirds. And she still likes being tied up, I see. She looks like she put on a little weight after the kids. She's still as hot as ever, though. You knew she had three kids, right?"

Bill swallowed. His heart was pounding.

"The most recent ones, though..." She stepped closer, her hand returning to his shaft, slow and deliberate, "They were with your Bentley friend. Val, right?"

She began to stroke him again. Her grip was tight, sliding along the entire length of his shaft, the rhythm unhurried.

"And her daughter."

That hit.

Lynn's voice was quiet, but pointed. "Sabrina."

She watched the flicker in his eyes. "The videos of Mom were hot. I got off more than a couple of times watching you do the mom. But the daughter. That girl's something else. She knows how to work a camera. Or maybe you do. She's a damn hot little mynx."

Bill's throat tightened.

"I wasn't planning to watch the ones of her," she said, almost reflectively. "But I couldn't stop. I got... curious. Then I got turned on, really turned on. I came so many times, I didn't even need to finish the whole thing. The bench in your sauna was soaked."

Her lips brushed his ear. "Next time I watched it, I brought toys. Used two on me at the same time. I almost fucking passed out. Do you remember how much I love the whole double penetration thing?"

Bill groaned softly.

"Do you realize how insane that is, Bill?" Lynn asked suddenly, her tone shifting... not angry, but charged with something real. "That I've been here every day, helping you through some of your worst moments, and somehow I'm still the one watching from the sidelines."

He looked at her, startled by the shift.

"Simone. Val. Sabrina," she said, each name a stone dropped in still water. "I've watched you give yourself to other women. Time and time again. I've wanted you for years. And you act like I'm... furniture. Your buddy. Your nursemaid. What was that Neil Young song... A Man Needs a Maid?"

Her hand was still on him, but slower now, like she wasn't sure whether to let go or hold tighter.

"I'm not mad," she added. "I'm just... done pretending. Watching you fuck other women on camera, while I'm folding your laundry and pretending I don't still want you..."

She looked down at his cock in her hand and laughed softly, bitterly. Her hand gripped his cock tighter.

"Apparently, I still do."

Bill didn't move. Didn't speak. The only sound was the hum of the water and Lynn's quiet breath, hot against his chest.

Her strokes sped up.

"I imagined what it would be like," she whispered. "All of us. You, Val, Sabrina. Me. Maybe Simone. I imagined what I'd do. What we'd do."

Bill gasped.

Lynn pressed her body even closer, her breasts slick and glistening with sweat against Bill's skin, the heat between them both palpable and electric. She could feel his heart pounding, matching the rhythm of her own desire.

"Can you just imagine it?" she whispered, her voice a sultry purr, her breath hot on Bill's ear, sending shivers down his spine. "You, me, Val, and Sabrina... all of us together, a tangled mess of limbs and lust. I'd be riding your face, my wet pussy grinding against your mouth, my juices coating your chin, your tongue delving deep inside me, tasting every inch of my slick folds. While those two licked and sucked your cock like the hungry sluts they are, their mouths working in unison, taking you deeper and deeper with each bob of their heads, their saliva mixing, creating a slick, shiny mess.

Crap, Bill thought, staring at Lynn.

"I'd drown you in my cum, watching those two sucking your cock, their eyes locked on yours, their desire matching your own. God, that'd be so hot. I imagined you losing control, your hips bucking, your cock throbbing, your breath coming in ragged gasps, just like you are now. I'd feel your tongue on my clit, your fingers inside me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. And when you came, it would be explosive, your cock pulsing, your cum spilling out, coating their mouths, their chins, their necks. "

"Val would push your cock, still spewing your hot seed, into Sabrina's eager mouth. Sabrina would take it all, greedily sucking every last drop, her eyes watering, her cheeks hollowed out, her moans vibrating around your shaft. And then, she'd turn to her mom, their lips meeting in a passionate, cum-filled kiss, sharing your essence between them, their tongues dancing, their bodies pressing together. All while their fingers explored each other's pussies, their moans filling the air, their desire for each other and for you palpable in the room. I'd watch, my own desire surging, my body aching with need, as the three of you became a symphony of lust and love, your bodies moving in sync, your pleasure intertwining, creating a moment of pure, unadulterated ecstasy."

Bill tried to breathe.

"God, that'd be so hot. I imagined you losing control. Like you are now." Lynn felt she might be losing control, too, her own desire surging through her veins, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her pussy aching with need. She could feel her orgasm building, her body tensing, her muscles clenching, as she painted the scene with her words, her voice a low, seductive whisper in Bill's ear.

His hips bucked slightly into her hand, his cock hardening even more at her words. She could feel the pulse of his desire, the raw need that matched her own.

"Maybe Sabrina and I would sixty-nine, like Simone and I used to do with you," she continued, her voice a low purr, her eyes gleaming with lust. "You could fuck the little minx from behind, her ass in the air, her pussy dripping with anticipation. I'd watch your cock slide into that sweet little pussy of hers, her walls clenching around you, her moans filling the air. Or maybe you'd tease her, your cock poised at her tight little asshole, making her beg for it. She loves it in the ass... doesn't she. I'd see her body tense, her breath hitch, as you pushed into her, inch by inch, until you were fully sheathed inside her. Her moans would turn into cries of pleasure, her body shaking with each thrust. After you'd cum, it'd drip into my mouth, and I'd lick it all up, savoring every last drop, the taste of you and her mixing on my tongue, driving me wild with desire."

Lynn jacked Bill's cock with determination, her hand moving faster, her grip tighter, the slick sound of her fist working his shaft filling the air. "Mmmm, even better... she and Mom could do the sixty-nine thing, their tongues exploring each other's pussies while you fucked them both.

Bill's breath caught.

I'd watch, my fingers buried deep inside myself, imagining it was your cock stretching me, filling me, making me scream with pleasure. Imagine Mom on her back, her legs spread wide, her pussy exposed and glistening. Sabrina would straddle her face, her own pussy hovering just above Mom's mouth. You'd be behind Sabrina, your cock poised at her tight little asshole. Mom would pull Sabrina down, her tongue delving deep into her daughter's pussy, licking and sucking with fervor. Sabrina would moan, her body shuddering with pleasure, her hips grinding against Mom's face. And then, you'd push into Sabrina, your cock sliding into her ass, the wet sounds of their combined pleasure filling the air. Mom would match your rhythm, her tongue working in sync with your cock, driving Sabrina wild with desire. I'd watch, my own fingers fucking myself, my clit swollen and sensitive, aching for release, as the three of you became a tangled mess of lust and love, your bodies moving in perfect harmony, your pleasure intertwining, creating a symphony of sex and sin."

"I'd see Mom's fingers digging into Sabrina's thighs, her tongue lapping at her daughter's pussy, her moans vibrating through Sabrina's body. Sabrina would be a writhing mess of pleasure, her body tensing and releasing with each thrust of your cock, each lick of Mom's tongue. And when you finally came, it would be explosive, your cock pulsing, your cum spilling out, coating their mouths, their chins, their necks."

Bill groaned, hips bucking.

"Am I going too far?" she said, her voice trembling at the edge of something... lust, frustration, pain. "But I wondered if I could still get to you."

Then it happened.

With a ragged moan, Bill came... his body jerking forward as his first blast splashed into the underside of Lynn's chin and throat. The second quickly followed, streaking his chest. Lynn didn't flinch; she bent down and slipped her lips over his erupting head. She willingly swallowed his seed as it filled her mouth. Lynn held him through it until his spasms faded. She lifted her mouth from him, her hand still stroking, the remainder of his release spilling over her fingers.

He sagged back against the counter, catching his breath, and Lynn stood motionless for a moment. Then she slowly released his softening cock.

Damn, I guess I took it a bit too far.

"Well," she said, trying for humor, but her voice came out quieter than expected. "Guess I still can." Her tongue licked his remnants from her lips, "You taste more bitter than I remember."

She stepped back, pulling Bill off the vanity..

"Let's get you clean and fed. I've got about an hour before I have to leave."

Bill nodded, still dazed as Lynn guided him into the shower..

As the hot water rushed around them, Lynn stood beside him, not touching, not speaking. Just... there.

And under the quiet hum of the water, one truth settled between them... this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

-- Chapter 9: Waiting on a Friend

"I'm just waiting on a friend..."

"I told myself it was just friendship... even when I was already wet from his voice."

-- Dr. Lynette Takeyuracuma, PhD.

Bill's oversized shower was built for indulgence. Multiple showerheads lined the walls and ceiling, with a long handheld hose draped beside them. Two benches... one low, one high... were mounted against the tiled walls, alongside four stainless safety bars. It had the clean, minimal luxury of a high-end spa. But this morning, it was a war zone.

Lynn guided Bill to the tallest set of vertical bars. "Hold these," she said evenly. "Let me do the rest."

He obeyed, gripping the rails, his back to her. He was still weak, unsteady, but he felt worlds better than yesterday. The steam began to rise around them.

Lynn started by shampooing his hair, stepping close to reach up and scrub his scalp. Her bare breasts pressed lightly into his back. It wasn't intentional... but it wasn't not intentional, either.

Her nipples tingled at the contact. She told herself it was just part of the job. She'd already crossed a line this morning, and part of her wanted to snap it back into place. But another part of her... the part that remembered every time he overlooked her, every time he picked someone else... wanted him to feel this. To squirm in the heat of her touch. To realize what he'd missed.

She moved efficiently, rubbing shampoo into his scalp with both hands. His groan was soft, involuntary.

"God, that feels good."

Did she want it to feel good?

Bill leaned into it, half-aware of her chest against his back. He didn't think it was meant to be seductive. Not after the way she'd pulled back earlier. Maybe she was just being kind again. Maybe the handjob in the bathroom had been a one-off... an apology, or revenge. A warning. He wasn't sure.

Either way, she hadn't said anything about that night.

Lynn wasn't talking. But her mind was racing.

He was so damn quiet. That had to mean something, right? He hadn't thanked her. He hadn't asked questions. He hadn't said a word about the handjob or what she'd said during it. No "I'm sorry." No, "I remember what I said." No, "You're right."

Maybe he thought she was just teasing him again... just another girl jerking him off for fun.

Her lips pressed together. Fine. Let him think that.

She rinsed his hair with the handheld and applied a second round of shampoo, then reached for the body wash. She worked it into a rich lather and began to smooth it across his shoulders and down his arms, fingers firm and practiced. Her hands ran over the curve of his deltoids, down to his biceps, then along his forearms, tracing the corded lines of muscle as if she were learning his body all over again.

Bill breathed deeper, and a quiet groan escaped his throat.

"Too hot?" she asked, not looking at him.

"No," he said. "Feels... really good."

She pressed her body into his for a moment and began lathering his chest, skimming around the outer edge of his pecs, keeping the touch light, impersonal. Mostly.

Bill's stomach tightened as she washed downward. When her hands slid down his abdomen and then around his hips, he let out a slow breath.

She worked the soap into his lower back, her hands sliding deliberately, almost languidly, down toward the dimples above his hips. Bill's abs tensed, and his body responded... subtle at first, but unmistakable. She saw the muscles of his back tighten. She knew his cock was beginning to stir, even though she hadn't touched it yet.

Then she dropped to her knees.

It wasn't a decision, exactly. It just... happened like her hands knew the choreography of this dance even when her heart was out of step.

She washed his feet and calves, then moved up his legs. She rubbed long, slick strokes up the inside of his thighs. He shivered slightly. Her hands cupped and soaped his balls. He shivered again. She thought they felt heavy. When her soapy hands gripped and kneaded his ass, she felt him stiffen... but not in protest.

Not yet.

Lynn massaged the lather between his cheeks, dragging slow circles around the tight muscles there. She caught herself holding her breath.

Then, without warning, she pushed a single finger inside him.

-- Chapter 10: If I Ain't Got You

"Some people want it all... but I don't want nothing at all, if it ain't you, baby..."

"I don't want his body. I want the part of him he never gives away."

-- Dr. Lynette Takeyuracuma, PhD.

Bill flinched... more from surprise than discomfort... as Lynn's soapy finger slid past the tight ring of muscle and pressed gently inside him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice breathy, a hint of tension behind it.

"Cleaning you," Lynn replied calmly, evenly. "You had a lot of nasty stuff come out of here, and I want to make sure you're good and clean."

"You don't... Oh, ah..." Bill moaned as her finger pushed in deeper and began to slide in and out. A tremor ran through his legs.

Lynn saw it immediately... his cock, already semi-hard from her earlier touch, was now rising with intent. She glanced around to his front and gave a small, dangerous smile.

"Well," she purred, "that's an interesting trick." Her voice had that honey-smooth edge she used when she wanted to make someone squirm. "Do your fuck toys know about this?"

"No," Bill gasped, humiliated and aroused in equal measure. The sensation was overwhelming. Ever since that therapist, Dr. Alexandra, had discovered this sweet little shortcut, he knew exactly how fast it could push him to the edge. And now Lynn had found it too.

"Well, Sabrina doesn't seem to need this trick," Lynn said, her tone suddenly sharp and cool. "But maybe you should tell Mom. She might cut your recovery time in half." She cocked her head. "I wonder what two fingers will do."

Before he could respond, she slipped a second finger into his tight hole.

"Oh, fuck, ugh," he groaned, bracing himself against the shower bars. His body arched slightly forward, and his cock stood up, thick and pulsing.

Lynn watched it happen with something between fascination and triumph. She reached around him, her hand gliding down his slick skin until it wrapped around his shaft. He was fully erect now... hard as granite and hot to the touch.

"Jesus," she breathed. "You're rock hard."

She couldn't deny the jolt of power it gave her. Her pussy clenched, juices already seeping down her thighs. Her hand began to move... her palm sliding firmly along the underside of his cock, syncing with the rhythm of her fingers inside him. She could feel him twitch against her hand, feel his breath grow ragged.

Lynn didn't stroke, not exactly... her hand and arm skimmed the length of his shaft, her wrist brushing the sensitive ridge under the head. His hips rocked forward instinctively, seeking more pressure. Lynn's pulse pounded in her ears. She wanted to lose herself in it... to grind her soaked cunt against his thigh, to feel him explode in her hand, to make him beg.

Her breasts grazed his skin, nipples aching as they dragged across his thigh.

Wrapping her fingers around his hard muscle, gripping him tight, and rapidly stroking him in time with her fingers impaling his ass. Lynn felt she was losing control and sighed as she rubbed her breasts on his thigh.

"Uh, uh, fuck, yeah, yeah, yeah... fuck Lynn, you're going to... to... oh, god, yes... keep doing that!" Bill moaned.

His voice... ragged, pleading... Like a hypnotist snapping their fingers to wake their subject, Bill's words snapped her out of it.

Lynn froze.

Her breath caught in her chest, her hand gripping him like a vice. What was she doing? This wasn't the plan. She didn't want him to just cum. She wanted him to understand. To face what he'd said. To reckon with what they were.

Not just use her body as a gateway to another orgasm.

She took two deep breaths. Then a third. She gently pulled her fingers from his ass, released his cock, and sat back on her heels.

"Fuck," Bill sputtered, his head tilted toward the water, trying to keep the shampoo out of his mouth. "What... what are you doing?"

"Fuck is right," she thought. She stared at her hands for a moment, slick and trembling, before rinsing them off under the spray.

Then she stood and touched his shoulders... lightly, gently. "Bill," she said, her voice soft and unreadable. "Turn around."

-- Chapter 11: Creep

"I want a perfect body... I want a perfect soul..."

"She's too much woman for me... and somehow I still think she deserves more."

-- Bill Fournier

Bill turned as directed, his eyes squeezed shut, shampoo still foaming in his hair, and running down his face. Lynn raised the handheld and sprayed his face, rinsing away the soap with care. "Bend down," she said, trying to keep her voice neutral.

But instead of bending, Bill squatted... and that was all it took.

His movement brought him forward, and his cock... thick, slick, and insistent... dragged through Lynn's curls, glided over her clit, and slipped between her legs. Her body, traitorous and eager, responded instantly. Her lips parted around him, her whole channel yawning open like a long-abandoned door swinging inward.

Lynn's breath hitched. "Uh... oh," she whispered, stunned by the sensation of her hot flesh against his.

This was exactly what she had wanted to avoid.

It was why she'd told him to bend. Why she held the showerhead up high. Why she hadn't looked him in the eye since stepping into the steam. If he dragged his cock between her legs, she wasn't sure she'd stop it. If he kissed her again... really kissed her... she didn't know what she'd do. And now she was here, split open, his shaft sliding between her folds, her body betraying every carefully drawn boundary.

She told herself to stop. Just say something. Step back. But her hands wouldn't move. Her legs wouldn't close.

Bill's hand instinctively wrapped around her waist, drawing her against him. His other cupped her thigh, lifting her leg high. His grip was sure. His mouth found hers. The kiss was open-mouthed, hungry. His tongue pushed in. She didn't resist. Couldn't.

And then... just like that... he was inside her.

The thick head of his cock breached her entrance, and Lynn gasped as the shaft slid deep into her molten center. Her inner walls clenched and quivered, shocked awake after a long slumber. It had been so long. Too long. And it was him. It was always him.

Her mind couldn't process it fast enough. Her body didn't care. Her body was already gone.

"UFF! GAH! FUH!" she grunted into his mouth. He held her with ease, lifting her off the floor and thrusting upward. Her pussy welcomed him greedily. Her clit crushed against his pelvic bone with each slam of his hips. The speed was dizzying. Her nerves exploded with sensation.

Lynn's first orgasm struck fast and sharp, ripping through her like a live wire. Her arms locked around his neck, legs squeezing his waist. Her nails bit into his shoulders as her body jackhammered against his.

"Uh, uh, yuh, yuh," she whimpered into his mouth, the kiss going sloppy with lust. Her hips moved in wild, frantic circles, taking all of him, pulling him deeper. His flesh stretched and filled her void. Long awaited, long denied. The last puzzle piece falling into place. She couldn't stop. Didn't want to. Not yet.

"You're so fucking hot, Lynn," he groaned. "I don't know how long I'm going to last."

"UH, UH, YUH, YUH, YUH," Lynn grunted, wanting to feel his cum fill her, her hips pumped wildly, driving his cock deeper with each of his thrusts.

And just as she was building again... poised for another release... Bill said something he should have kept to himself. The words... 'I love you,' passed through his head, but his mouth said something else.

"I don't know why we haven't been doing this all along. I should have been fucking you this whole time."

Snap..

Lynn's eyes flew open. "What? WHAT?" she growled, yanking her face from his, pushing away from him.

Her upper body recoiled. Bill instinctively dropped her leg and loosened his grip. Her feet hit the tile just as his cock slid out of her body, tearing painfully free from her clenching heat.

Pain. Rage. Humiliation. They all landed at once.

The movement unbalanced her, and she slipped... the wet tile felt like grease beneath her feet. She fell, but Bill caught her by the arms, steadying her before she hit the floor. Lynn ripped herself free from his grip.

"What in the fucking hell did you mean by that?" she shouted, hair plastered to her face, chest heaving.

"I... I thought... I thought... what you were doing..." Bill stammered, eyes wide. "I thought you wanted to... "

"You thought I wanted to fuck you?" she snapped, then bent over, hands on her knees. Her head dropped, drawing in a ragged breath. Then she stood, snapped her head up, her wet hair flinging back, and pierced him with her stare. "Maybe I did. Maybe I do... But I'm not one of your fuck toys, Bill."

The echo of her voice filled the steam-slick space.

"I'll never be JUST another warm hole you stick your cock in when the mood strikes," she said, more quietly now. Her voice trembled with restrained fury. "Do you understand that? I... don't... just... want... to... be... one... of... your... fuck... toys."

"Lynn, I never... " Bill began. "I didn't mean... "

"Oh, shut the fuck up and sit on the bench," she snapped, spinning away from him. Her tone shifted again... less explosive now, but sharp-edged, with a note of resignation. "So I can finish you off."

She paused. Almost laughed at her word choice. Corrected herself.

"Finish washing you."

Lynn grabbed the soap and the handheld and turned her back to him. Her jaw clenched. She was still shaking. Inside, a thousand thoughts slammed into each other like a car crash. I let him fuck me. I let it happen. I wanted it to happen. And he still doesn't get it.

She didn't know if she was angrier at him... or at herself.

-- Chapter 12: Criminal

"I've been a bad, bad girl..."

"If I'm going to be punished, it better be worth it."

-- Dr. Lynette Takeyuracuma, PhD.

Bill sat quietly on the high, deep bench, legs stretched out, the water cascading around him. The air between them buzzed with tension. His cock stood rigid, resting between his thighs like a challenge. He still didn't understand what had happened... how something so passionate could flip into an explosion of anger so fast. And why.

Lynn stared at him for a long moment. She shook her head slightly, the corners of her mouth twitching in something like disbelief. Maybe pity. Maybe desire.

"Look at him," she thought. "Legs splayed out, cock hard as stone, like he's waiting for someone to mount him. Like that's the natural state of things. God, he pisses me off." And then, quietly: "God, I want him."

She stepped forward, wordless, between his open legs. The tip of his cock hovered just inches from her belly.

Without breaking eye contact, Lynn lifted the bottle of body wash and squirted it onto his chest. Bill tensed slightly... then relaxed as her hands made contact. At first, her touch was brisk. She scrubbed his chest, his ribs, his stomach with rough, determined strokes, as if washing away the confusion.

But as she leaned in, her body pressing into his, her nipples grazed his chest. Her touch softened. Her palms slid slower. She felt the heat radiating from his skin, the way his breath caught when her breasts dragged over his pecs. She leaned lower, rinsing him with the spray, and his cock pressed against her midsection again, harder now, twitching.

She paused. The head of his cock had nestled between her breasts.

"Don't. Just rinse him and step back," her brain said.

Her body said, "Move closer."

She bent lower to rinse his torso, her tits cradling his cock without intent... or maybe just enough to lie to herself. His shaft slid between them, warm and hard. Her nipples ached. She shifted slightly. The next time she moved, it was deliberate.

Bill groaned softly. She felt it vibrate in his chest under her hands. His cock slid up between her breasts again, and this time she leaned in just enough to trap it there.

"Mmmm," he breathed.

She tried not to respond. She tried not to let it happen. But then his hands rose, and they cupped her breasts... softly at first, then firmly. He pushed them together, wrapping them around his shaft.

He began to move. Up. Down. His cockhead slid through her cleavage, brushing her chin on every stroke. And still, Lynn said nothing.

She told herself she should stop. She didn't. Her hands pressed into his shoulders, but not to push him away. She was steadying herself as she began to rock. Her tits glided around him, her breath catching with each pass of his head over her sternum.

And when his cock was close enough, she bent and sucked on the tip... slowly, just once. A tease. A punishment. A reward.

He moaned louder. "God, Lynn..."

His hips bucked, need overtaking hesitation. Her nipples scraped against his skin, hard and needy. Her pussy throbbed.

Lynn tried to detach again... mentally... emotionally. Just finish him. Give him what he clearly wants and move on. Her body wasn't cooperating. Her rhythm grew more intense. Her chest slick with soap and heat, she wrapped her arms around her own breasts, sandwiching his cock between them, stroking him harder now.

Bill was breathing fast, eyes closed, groaning her name. His hands cupped her hips.

Snap.

She stilled.

She looked up at him, his face flushed and open and wanting.

"Is this all you want, Bill?" she asked.

He blinked. "What?"

Her voice dropped. "Do you just want me to get you off? Make you cum? Is that what you think I'm here for? Is that all you want me for?"

"Lynn, what are you...?" Confusion clouded his face, but his cock twitched again in her cleavage.

"Yes," he groaned, as if it were the most honest thing in the world. "Fucking yes, I want you to make me cum. Isn't that obvious?"

Lynn's heart sank and flared in the same beat.

She dropped her arms. Let his cock fall from between her breasts. Stood upright. Her voice was low and cold.

"I just want to make sure I understand our relationship."

"Lynn... "

"You want me to jack you off, suck your dick, wash your clothes, and drive you to doctor's appointments. Is that it?" Her tone was deadly calm now. "Because if that's what this is, just let me know. I need a little clarity."

"Jesus Christ, Lynn," Bill snapped, more frustration than anger. "You've been toying with me all morning. If you're going to make me cum... then do it. If you're going to fuck me, fuck me. If not, then stop."

He knew the moment he said it that it was the wrong thing.

"Oh, Bill," Lynn spoke slowly and firmly. "I think you may have the wrong impression of our relationship. Like I said, I'm not one of your fuck toys, who come at your beck and call. I'm the closest friend you have and the only one who will put up with your shit, literally, put up and clean up your shit these days. I don't see anyone else knocking down your door to help."

Ouch.

"I'm sorry, Lynn, I didn't mean to..." Bill started apologizing.

"Oh, Bill," Lynn murmured. "You really don't get it."

-- Chapter 13: Jealous

"I'm jealous of the rain that falls upon your skin..."

"I came harder than I had in years... and I still felt like the outsider."

-- Dr. Lynette Takeyuracuma, PhD.

And then... before he could answer... she reached down, grabbed his cock, and began to stroke him. Hard. Fast.

"I'm your friend," she said. "And since you're all worked up, I'll help you out. Just this once."

Her voice was mocking now, but her hand was deadly serious.

She sank to her knees. Her lips wrapped around his head. And before he could beg or protest or even breathe, she swallowed him deep into her throat.

His whole body seized as her throat clenched around him. She started that trick... that trick... tight pulses that pulled his cock deeper each time. She moaned around him. Slurped him. Drove him insane.

Her other hand reached for the showerhead. She angled it between her legs and turned it to pulse. "UMPH," she grunted on his cock as the water hit her clit like fire.

"Bill," she gasped when she came up for air. "Cum for me. Now. I want all of it. Right here."

Then she plunged back down, fucking him with her mouth.

Lynn had him in her throat, her lips sealed around the base of his shaft, her throat clenching like a vice. Her hands gripped his thighs, keeping him pinned to the bench. Bill couldn't move. Didn't want to.

The pleasure was violent... all-consuming.

Her mouth worked with merciless rhythm... deep, slick, relentless. Every time he tried to say her name, his breath caught on a groan. And still she kept going.

When she pulled off, her hand took over, jacking his soaked cock with fury.

"Bill," she said again, low and breathy. "Come on, baby. Cum for me. Mama needs a pearl necklace."

She took him into her mouth once more, even deeper. And this time, when her nose hit his bush, her fingers hit her clit.

The handheld pulsed against her sex. Lynn's body trembled. Her thighs shook. Her orgasm hit her like a thunderclap, but she didn't stop. Not this time.

"UMPH! Fuhk... " she gagged, pulling back. Her eyes were glassy, her chest heaving. She jacked him harder, faster.

Bill's whole body clenched. "Lynn... fuck... Lynn, I'm gonna...!"

And then he was there.

"OH FUCK!" Bill shouted as the first blast of his orgasm exploded from him... straight into Lynn's open mouth. She took it with practiced ease, not even flinching as the second and third ropes followed.

But then she pulled off.

Let the fourth thick stream arc up... hitting him in the face, in the eye, across his cheek.

"Bingo," Lynn thought with a tight smile, keeping her lips closed.

She let his cock spray the rest of his climax over his chest, his belly, his groin. One of the last spurts oozed slowly from his slit... thick and warm... She let go of his cock like a 'mike drop,' spitting her mouthfull of cum across his stomach.

Then her body seized again.

Lynn didn't even care that Bill was still watching. She angled the showerhead higher and pressed the pulsing stream back onto her clit. Her second orgasm overtook her in a shuddering wave.

"FAWK-K-K-K!" she cried out, her knees buckling. She grabbed onto his thigh to keep herself upright, her whole body quaking. Again. And again.

When it finally passed, she was breathless, soaked, and absolutely done.

She dropped the showerhead. Turned her back. Let the water sluice over her for a long moment in silence.

Then she stepped out of the stream, grabbed a towel, and started drying off... briskly. Mechanically.

"Lynn... " Bill started.

"Rinse off and get dressed," she cut him off, not turning around. Her voice was low and flat. No heat. No ice. Just... nothing.

"Your breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes."

She dropped the towel and walked out without another word.

-- Chapter 14: Closer

"I want to feel you from the inside..."

"He doesn't know it yet, but I'm not letting him go this time."

-- Dr. Lynette Takeyuracuma, PhD.

Bill sat on the bench in the shower for several minutes, trying to process what had just happened. The water pounded against his shoulders, but his thoughts were louder. This wasn't the first time Lynn had acted this way. The word bizarre floated into his mind, but he swatted it away... it felt dismissive, and Lynn didn't deserve that.

The last time she'd exploded emotionally like this was years ago, when he had just started dating Susie. She'd come onto him hard then, too, and when he rejected her, she disappeared for months. They stopped speaking entirely. It took three years and a desperate voicemail before she came back into his life.

Four months ago.

Since then, she'd been over multiple times a week. Watching movies. Cooking. Laughing. Helping him.

Helping him recover.

He had hurt her. Again. Maybe worse than ever.

She'd asked him what he wanted. She said she didn't want to be his fuck toy.

No, she said she didn't... JUST want to be his fuck toy.

Fuck.

And what had he said?

"Yes. I want you to make me cum."

Bill said the rest out loud: "Fuck. I'm such a fucking idiot."

Her naked body bent at the hips, Lynn's arms braced against the kitchen counter. Her head hung between them, hair damp and dripping as she tried to regulate her breathing. Her chest heaved, her stomach clenched. Her thoughts were a kaleidoscope of regret, confusion, and arousal.

"Why do I do this?" she muttered. "He can be so... so exasperating. Selfish. A total dick."

She hated him.

She loved him.

Always had.

He was kind. Funny. Loyal. Thoughtful. Sexy, even if he had no idea how much. He'd give you the shirt off his back. He had, actually, more than once.

She knew who he was. Had known for years. He was Bill. And Bill had always had a steady stream of lovers. He had his moments of fidelity... Morgan, Susie, mostly. But Lynn had never been more than a friend. Never part of that stream. Except for those few crazy weeks at the very beginning. When he first made her cum so hard she thought she'd pass out. When she thought she might finally break through his walls.

But he'd moved on. And left her behind.

So why had she come back? Why did she run to him when he called?

Because somewhere deep inside, she was still that nineteen-year-old girl who thought he was her prince. Her Hand Solo.

She chuckled darkly. "Oh my God," she whispered. "I haven't thought about that in years."

She straightened, wiped her face with a dish towel, and took a long breath. Cooking helped. Focused her. And Bill's kitchen was her favorite space to do it in. He had the best appliances, the best tools. She could cook here and pretend everything was normal. Pretend she hadn't just fucked him in the shower, screamed at him, and sucked him off like it was the last orgasm she'd ever give.

She flipped an omelet.

Not just a fuck toy, she reminded herself. Let him stew.

Bill wandered into the kitchen wearing clean clothes, hair damp and tousled. Lynn didn't even glance at him as she plated breakfast. And he wondered why she was still naked.

"Sit down," she said, gesturing to the bar.

He sat. She placed an omelet, bacon, and toast in front of him. Orange juice. Coffee.

"Lynn, I... "

"Eat," she interrupted. Her voice was sharp. Cold.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have time to talk. And I don't want to talk right now. I'll be back tomorrow night. We can talk then."

She turned and headed upstairs.

"Lynn," he tried again. But she was gone.

Fifteen minutes later, Lynn came back downstairs. Hair dry. Light makeup. Still naked. She said nothing and went into the basement. A few minutes later, she returned dressed in a modest top and jeans.

She cleared his dishes.

"My cousin Beth will text you shortly with her number. If you need anything before tomorrow, she's agreed to help. She does this kind of thing professionally. Thirty an hour, more if you can afford it. She prefers cash."

"See you tomorrow," Bill said, throat dry.

She left without replying.

-- Chapter 15: You Know I'm No Good

"I told you I was trouble... you know that I'm no good..."

"He called it love. I called it heat. Maybe we were both lying."

-- Dr. Lynette Takeyuracuma, PhD.

Bill spent the rest of the morning lost in his thoughts. He couldn't relax. Couldn't concentrate. His erection from earlier kept returning, reminding him of the physical release and emotional chaos of that morning.

By 11:30, he gave up trying to distract himself and decided to take a sauna. A hot sweat always helped reset him.

He went to the basement, fired up the unit, then changed into a robe, filled a tall Yeti tumbler with ice water, and returned to the heat.

He tried an audiobook. Music. Nothing helped.

The heat relaxed his body, but not his mind. Or his cock. The erection came back, pulsing and stubborn. He decided not to fight it and reached for the remote. Selected one of his favorite parody porns. A silly Batgirl, Batman, and Robin thing that usually got the job done.

The second scene was hot; a full-on three-way. Bill stroked himself slowly at first, but quickly ramped up. The heat made everything more sensitive.

Just as the characters were moving into the climactic final act... Batgirl sandwiched between the two heroes, her face twisted in ecstasy... a smaller window appeared on the screen.

It was Lynn walking into the house.

"Bill, it's only me," she called.

He froze.

The video paused automatically when the surveillance camera was activated. Then she stepped out of frame.

"What the hell is she doing here?" he muttered, staring at the empty view of the living room and entranceway. "I really need more cameras in this setup," he said to himself.

"I brought you dinner," she answered his unasked question. "I realized you didn't have any when I left."

Bill installed the closed-circuit system when he installed the sauna. It activated automatically whenever the sauna was on. Two cameras: one outside the front door and one inside covering the living room and entryway. It was sound-activated and had only turned on twice before.

The first time, he and Sabrina had been mid-fuck when Val showed up unannounced. Bill rinsed off quickly and left Sabrina, turning the sauna off and leaving the door ajar. He intercepted Val when she was on her way down to the basement; She was already half undressed.

Val apologized for showing up unannounced, but she was horny and wanted to fuck. She suggested the sauna, but Bill told her he'd been in too long. They ended up having sex on the day bed in the basement, only feet from her daughter.

Over an hour later, Val left, satisfied.

When Bill opened the sauna door, he found Sabrina sitting, exhausted, legs wide on the bench. Her cum streaked the floor. She had watched them through the partially open door.

She jumped up, knelt before him, and took his spent cock in her hands. Bill tried to stop her; he hadn't even showered; but she eagerly licked Val's cum off his cock and balls. She sucked him until his erection returned. Sabrina was insatiable: they fucked for hours, until Bill's cum ran clear and he was too sore to continue.

Bill was now back in the present, rock-hard, and nearing climax. He absolutely did not want Lynn to catch him like this.

He said nothing. Stayed silent. Maybe she'd leave.

"Bill?"

But she didn't. Her voice called again, louder now, filled with concern and fear.

"BILL?"

"I'm in the sauna," he said through the intercom.

Her footsteps stopped. Then, silence.

A moment passed.

Then the inactivity timer reset the porn.

The door to the sauna opened.

Lynn stepped in and closed it behind her.

She had changed. She wore a simple white-floral, V-neck, button-up midi dress and matching sandals. It clung to her form, accentuating her breasts and hips.

"Fucksakes, Bill, you scared the..."

Her eyes met his. Then moved down to Bill's stiff cock, still held in his hand. Then to the TV, where Batgirl was getting fucked from behind by Batman and sucking off Robin.

Bill didn't move. Didn't cover himself. He wasn't sure what to say.

She didn't speak. Didn't flinch. Just watched.

Lynn watched the screen. The three actors moaning in tandem. The sounds of flesh and pleasure filled the sauna. Her lips parted slightly. Her face unreadable. Her breathing shallow.

Batgirl groaned in exaggerated bliss as she took both men, cum dripping from her lips. The scene was intense. And Lynn watched it.

Only when the scene reached its peak... Robin cumming on Batgirl's chest while Batman groaned inside her... did she finally speak.

"Well," she said, voice even. "Looks like you're feeling... better." Her dress clung to her damp skin, floral fabric hugging her hips and breasts.

Bill reached for the remote and shut it off.

"I brought you dinner," she said, her tone unchanged. "And wanted to check if you needed anything. Did Beth text you?"

"Yes," Bill answered. "And, thank you."

"Good. Don't be like this when she comes over. She's no prude, but she might not be as understanding as I am."

She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow.

"I'll be off, then." She turned to leave.

"Lynn, wait," Bill said. "Please... stay."

She paused, hand on the handle.

"No, Bill. I really should go." She opened the door. "I'm sorry I interrupted you. See you tomorrow."

She left.

Bill leaned back, breath heavy. His arousal had faded, but not the ache in his chest.

Several minutes passed.

Then the door opened again.

Lynn stepped back inside, shutting the door behind her. Her dress clung to her body, her eyes uncertain.

She looked at him.

"Why do you want me to stay, Bill?"

-- Chapter 16: The Scientist

"Nobody said it was easy... no one ever said it would be this hard..."

"I always thought she'd wait. I never thought she'd change."

-- Bill Fournier

Bill hesitated, then admitted, "I just... I wish you would stay. Please."

"But why?" she asked, her hazel eyes locked on his. "What could you say to me to make me want to stay with you? Right now? In this hot box? You know I have something to do this afternoon. So I wouldn't be here very long.

"I'm already sweating like a pig, so I'd need a shower and a change of clothes. Of course, if I stayed in here, I'd need to get naked. Is that what you're thinking? A quickie? You look all ripe and ready.

"Do you think your buddy Lynn might give you another head job? The last one was so good, maybe she'll be up for round two. Or even better... maybe she'll let me fuck her. Her pussy is so warm and inviting."

Sarcasm dripped from her voice like the sweat from her chin.

"NO!" Bill said, louder than he meant to.

"Then what, Bill? What possible reason would I have to take an hour out of my day and stay here with you? Give me one good reason."

Bill's eyes, bright and focused, were locked on Lynn. He knew what he needed to say, what he wanted to say.

"I love you."

Three simple words. Spoken with sincerity, with weight, and with all the rawness of truth. Three simple words that can change the world.

Lynn stared at him. Her body remained still. Her face expressionless. But inside... inside she was spinning.

A rush of heat bloomed in her chest, then another wave surged between her legs. Her pussy throbbed, wetness flooding her already sweat-soaked panties. Her nerves lit up like a struck match, and suddenly it felt like the first time they kissed. The first time they made love.

Except they never really made love. Not truly. Not just the two of them.

Sure, they'd had sex... plenty of it... over those few intense weeks after they met. But it was rarely one-on-one. There had always been others in the bed.

She'd fucked him the very first night they met.

Fuck, she thought, that night at the party...

She remembered it vividly... how he'd looked at her, how his voice curled around her spine, how his hands and mouth had awakened parts of her she hadn't known were there. How the simple act of removing her shoes had made her wet. When he fucked her that first time, it was like a fuse had been lit. Every nerve in her body had gone off like fireworks.

But soon after Bill came, she was flat on her back again, another guy pounding his cock into her. Then a third. Her body kept cumming... over and over... but nothing felt like it did when Bill was inside her. No one else touched her soul like he had.

By the end of the night, she had three men's cum inside her.

It wouldn't be the last time a night like that happened. Even the most intense moments with Bill had gotten blurred, washed out by the presence of others. So despite everything, she felt when he touched her that night... it hadn't felt like love. It hadn't counted. Not really.

Right now, Lynn might have been jumping up and down on the inside, screaming, Say it again. Tell me you mean it. Make it real this time.

But all Bill saw was her flat, unreadable expression.

"You love me?" she asked, voice low, guarded. "Or do you love the thought of me? The idea of hanging out with your friend. The idea of someone who cooks, who cleans. A hot pussy to play with when you're bored?"

"NO!" He said firmly

"I love you," Bill said again. "I've always loved you. I think you know that."

"I don't know that I do," Lynn replied, her tone cool. "Fuck, it's hot in here."

She grimaced and shifted, the fabric of her dress clinging to her skin. Bill could see it... Her clothes were soaked through with sweat.

"You've had decades, Bill. Decades to tell me how you feel. To show me. But there was always someone else... a parade of others you had to dip your wick into.

"Always?" she asked. "You always loved me? Or is this new? Is it just convenient now? Now that all the others have left you?"

Ouch.

"I've always loved you," Bill said, more firmly this time. "You're my best friend. I... I've been in love with you since that afternoon in your room."

He paused. Then corrected himself.

"No. That's not true. I fell in love with you the first night I met you. When a green-haired girl looked up at me and asked me to fill her cup."

He watched her, hoping something in her expression would shift. Something to tell him, she felt it too.

She did. But she was also scared to death of what it meant.

If she let herself believe it, and he didn't mean it...

If she let herself believe it, and he did mean it...

... what then?

Could she risk giving herself to him, fully and openly, only to be hurt again?

And right now, she wasn't sure which frightened her more: the idea that he didn't love her, or the terrifying possibility that he actually did.

-- Chapter 17: Just Like Heaven --

"Show me how you do that trick... the one that makes me scream..."

"I came into her life like a miracle... and left like a mistake."

-- Bill Fournier

Lynn didn't respond immediately, her gaze resting on her naked friend as Bill's words triggered memories from long ago. The silence deepened as both their minds drifted back to those early days.

It was Easter break during Bill's first year in grad school. His roommate, whom he'd moved there with, had gone back to Michigan to see his family. The other, Cassandra, a Navy nurse, was pulling double shifts. That evening, he stayed home watching TV until a local friend called and told him about a party on the other side of campus.

Bill took a quick shower, threw on his only clean pair of khaki shorts, a button-down short-sleeve shirt, and a pair of Vans without socks. He headed out, met his friend, and walked over to the party.

It turned out to be less of a party and more like twenty people casually trying to kill a keg. Pretty tame, as parties went. His friend got bored and decided to leave for a bar, but Bill stayed.

He met Lynn while filling his Solo cup. A green-haired coed walked up and smiled.

"Hi, stranger, would you be interested in filling my cup? It really could use something new and fresh inside it," she said, clearly aware of the innuendo.

Nor was that lost on Bill. He took in everything about her. About 5'7", green shoulder-length hair, wide-set hazel eyes, a sloped nose, and a wide, full-lipped smile. She wore a red halter top that barely contained her round, braless breasts, her nipples creating small peaks in the material. Her matching red mini skirt sat low on her hips, the waistband riding just above her pubic mound. Her flat tummy and toned legs completed the look, and red sandals matched her lipstick and polished nails.

Everything about her screamed: come fuck me.

"Sure, and the pleasure will be all yours," Bill replied with a wry grin. "Of course, filling your cup may take me a while. I'd need to prepare it properly, ensuring you're fully satisfied with the pour before I finish and make your cup runneth over."

The beer dribbled slowly into her cup.

The green-haired girl laughed and flashed him a lusty grin. "Oh, I do like my cup to runneth over!" She held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Lynn. I don't recall seeing you around before."

"Hi, I'm... Bill, but my friends call me... Bill," he joked. "It's my first year in grad school. I don't get to many parties. Been a little overwhelmed with the work."

"Well, Bill, what got your nose out of the books to mingle with this bunch of degenerates?" Lynn teased.

"A friend called me about the party. I was tired of looking at porn and thought it'd be nice to meet some humans."

"Mmm, porn is fun. Better when shared."

"This is true," Bill chuckled. "But mostly I've been like these cups." He held up his red Solo cup.

Lynn looked at him, then at the cup. "Solo."

"Oh, crap. That's a good one," she laughed. "Hand Solo, playing with his Wookie."

"That's a good one, too," Bill laughed. "But a Wookie is furry. It'd be more like Princess Layalone playing with her Wookie. Hand Solo would be holding his blaster."

"Does Hand Solo hold his blaster often?" Lynn grinned.

"More often than he'd care to admit these days," Bill replied. "What about Princess Layalone? Does she play with her Wookie?"

"As often as she can," Lynn said with a wicked smile.

"That's good to know. Is her Wookie green, too?"

"Does the carpet match the drapes? Mmmm, that's a mystery you'll need to uncover."

"I love a good mystery. The Mystery of the Grassy Knoll."

"Heh, too funny," Lynn giggled. "The Hard Boy and the Emerald Cave."

Bill and Lynn laughed. Lynn's words were less innuendo and more explicit.

"So, Mr. Strange, while I DO appreciate a man who puts his big tap in my green cup and takes a long time to fill it with his thick, creamy juice," she said, smiling as he continued dribbling beer into her cup, "I'd prefer my red cup were filled a little faster."

"Oh... sorry," Bill laughed, now feeling the heat rise. "And just to clarify... You mean the empty one, not the two bigger cups that are full?"

"Yes, the empty one," she grinned. "But you might get a chance to help me empty the other two later."

Bill smiled and gently held her hand as she held her cup. Lynn nearly jumped at the electric jolt that raced up her arm. Bill felt it too. He tipped the cup slightly, resting the beer tap against the inside, and poured. It filled smoothly, with just a slight head of foam.

"Don't you like head?" she asked.

"I love head... just not on my beer," he quipped. They both laughed.

Bill wanted to ask more about her "green cup," but someone else was waiting for the keg. They moved to the side and leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Where's your friend who brought you?" Lynn asked.

"Scott? He bailed. Got bored and left."

"That sucks. What a miscreant," Lynn said. "Left you all alone with a bunch of low-life undergrads. You really are a stranger in a strange land."

"Grok," Bill smiled.

Lynn flashed her pearly whites and gently touched his forearm. There it was again: that small electrical charge.

"Hey, will you help me get up onto the counter? I love these shoes but they suck to stand in them for long."

Bill stepped closer, a roguish smirk tugging at his mouth. He glanced down at her feet, then back up, eyes twinkling.

"Wou' me noble laydee be so inclined ter 'ave 'er dainty li'l trotters de-shoed by the likes o' me?" he said with a dramatic bow, one hand outstretched like he was proposing marriage instead of foot rescue.

Before Lynn could answer, he scooped her up, smooth and easy, and set her on the kitchen counter like it was the most natural thing in the world. He guessed she weighed 105, 110 max.

Lynn let out a little gasp, half-startled, half impressed. She blinked at him, lips parting into a slow, amused smile. Then she leaned in slightly, her voice rich with syrup and spark.

"Well mah stars, suh... If Ah'd known gallantry came with forearms like that, Ah'da worn stilettos."

They laughed, the air between them light and fizzing with something sweet and sharp. Then, without ceremony, Bill knelt on one knee in front of her, reverent and playful all at once.

His hands moved to her calf, warm, strong, and just rough enough to spark a thrill. Slowly, deliberately, his fingers slid down the length of her leg.

Lynn gasped... a soft, involuntary sound... as a spark of sensation zipped from his touch straight up her spine and detonated in her core. Her breath caught. Her panties dampened instantly.

He cradled her ankle in one hand while his other undid the straps of her sandal with slow, teasing precision. When he slipped the shoe off, his thumbs pressed into her arch, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles.

The pleasure hit like a current. Lynn's head tilted back, her lips parting.

"Oh, my... fuuuhck," she breathed, stunned at how good it felt... and at how easily this stranger's hands were unraveling her.

Bill didn't say a word. He didn't need to. His focus was absolute. He smiled faintly to himself, like a man who knew exactly what he was doing... and loved doing it.

He set her foot gently on his thigh and reached for the other, repeating the ritual. His hands moved up her calf, past her knee, then slowly down. Each pass of his palms over her skin sent new waves rolling through her. By the time his thumbs circled the ball of her foot, her body was aching.

She squirmed on the counter, hips shifting, a moan slipping from her mouth before she could stop it.

This time the charge wasn't vague... it was direct. Her clit throbbed. Her panties were soaked. Her inner thighs clenched involuntarily. And still, he said nothing.

Her gaze locked on Bill's bowed head, on the way he treated her like she was a gift to be unwrapped... slowly.

She gushed. No delicate way to put it. Her body flooded with want, her thighs twitching as tension coiled tight inside her.

"Bill..." she whispered, a breath of heat, an invocation.

Without hesitation, with the confidence of a woman who had already made her choice, Lynn parted her knees slightly... just enough.

No coyness. No teasing.

She had decided five minutes ago she was going to fuck him. But now... watching the way he handled her, the reverence in his hands, the controlled hunger in his silence... she wanted more than release. She wanted to feel devoured.

Bill's head lifted at the sound of his name, and his gaze landed squarely between her open thighs.

He froze.

For a heartbeat, he just stared... at her pale, trembling skin... at the red cotton soaked dark in the center, the curve of her lips visible through the thin fabric. The evidence of what he'd done to her with nothing but his hands.

His breath hitched.

Lynn watched his face... saw the moment desire overtook disbelief, saw the rawness ripple through him. Her pulse pounded between her legs as her foot slipped from his thigh and grazed along the length of his cock.

It was hard... and getting harder. Thickening under her touch. She felt it twitch against her ankle.

Their eyes met... and held.

Something passed between them in that moment... not just lust, but recognition.

Lynn's foot traced the outline of his erection through his khakis. She rolled her toes over the bulge, slow and deliberate, while Bill's hands slid up the backs of her thighs... reverent, steady... like he was touching sacred ground.

She trembled. Her thighs eased wider, inviting his hands higher.

He reached her panties.

His fingertips grazed the outer seam... the damp heat... the trembling edge of her soaked center. His knuckles brushed over her mound, just enough to make her gasp and arch.

She leaned forward, lips grazing his ear.

"I'm sure," she whispered, voice low and certain and soaked in sin. "I want you to fill my cup tonight."

Bill rose, hands dragging up her legs, her hips, her sides. She pulled him in with her thighs, locking him against her. Her skirt bunched around her waist as she ground her heat against his cock, the soaked cotton dragging across his pants.

He groaned... a deep, raw sound... and Lynn grinned against his mouth before kissing him, quick but hungry, all tongue and urgency.

His hands slid up her top, cupping her breasts. She moaned, his thumbs circling her nipples through the halter until they stiffened beneath the thin fabric. The heat between them surged, their kiss deepened. Bill pushed one hand under the halter, his palm closing around her bare breast, squeezing, pinching. Her head tipped back.

Then... she pushed him away, breathless.

With unbroken eye contact, she reached up and slowly pulled the halter aside, baring her left breast completely.

They stared.

Both lit up. Both undone.

Then... a sound.

A creak.

A flick of orange.

They turned to see a man at the kitchen table, cigarette glowing between his fingers, one leg crossed over the other, watching them with open amusement.

He raised his brows.

"Don't let me interrupt."

Lynn clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh. Her breast still exposed. Bill looked stunned for half a beat... then chuckled. She slowly pulled her halter down over her breast.

Then they both cracked up... breathless, unsteady... laughing so hard they nearly forgot they were still on fire.

-- Chapter 18: Let's Get It On

"We're all sensitive people... with so much to give..."

"This isn't just sex. It's memory. It's war. It's worship."

-- Lynn Takeyuracuma

Lynn and Bill laughed as they straightened their clothes. She smoothed her bunched-up skirt and adjusted her halter top. They exchanged a look and let out a shared breath, like steam whistling from a pressure valve. The fire between them hadn't gone out; just banked for now, glowing hot and patient.

Bill's hands found her hips again, his thumbs idly stroking. "So, I have to ask," he said, voice low and playful, "a beautiful, green-haired goddess like yourself doesn't have someone filling your cup on the regular?"

"You'd think so, right?" Lynn smirked. "But no, my cup lies empty and dry. Then again..." she winked, "if my cup were full, no more could be poured into it."

Bill grinned. "That's surprisingly philosophical for someone who just tried to climb me like a tree."

Lynn leaned in, her voice rich and sultry. "My cup may be empty, but I'm pretty well lubricated at this moment."

Bill's breath caught. "I'd like to be the judge of that."

"Be my guest," she whispered, sliding one leg out to invite him, her skirt already hitched around her hips.

Bill moved in without hesitation. His hands slid up her thighs, fingertips pressing into the firm, trembling flesh. He eased between her knees as they opened wide to welcome him, the scent of her arousal thick in the air, undeniable.

She tilted her hips forward, offering herself.

When his fingers found her panties, they were soaked. He slipped them to the side with practiced ease, exposing her slick folds. The sight alone made his cock twitch.

Then his fingers dipped into her... slow, thick, filling her in one long, deep stroke.

Lynn cried out... raw and sharp... her whole body jerking forward.

"GAH-AH!" she gasped, clutching his arms as her pussy tightened around his fingers.

Bill pumped and curled his fingers inside her, his thumb brushing her clit in steady, relentless circles. Her muscles clenched, already fluttering with tension. Her legs locked around his waist, holding him in place.

And then she broke.

Her breath shattered. Her back arched. She came in a rush, flooding his hand with a sudden, gushing heat that dripped between them. Her whole body convulsed, green hair flying across her face, eyes squeezed shut.

"Oh God... oh my God..." she whimpered, riding the waves as they overtook her.

But Bill didn't stop.

He kept his fingers moving, slower but no less deliberate, dragging every aftershock out of her. His thumb pressed and circled her clit again, coaxing a new moan from her lips. Her thighs fluttered, then clamped down again as a second orgasm rippled through her... smaller, tighter, but sharper.

"Ah... fuck, yes..." she hissed, her voice rough and shaking.

Bill watched, breathless, fingers still buried inside her, feeling the rhythm of her walls as they clenched and spasmed around him. Her skin gleamed with sweat. Her chest heaved, mouth parted, body electric.

He eased his hand out slowly, reverently, his palm drenched with her slick. She gasped as he slipped free, her inner walls still pulsing in the wake of climax.

"Well lubricated..." Bill started to say.

"Take your cock out now!" Lynn ordered, breath ragged. She stayed perched on the counter, legs spread wide to either side of him, skirt bunched, panties shoved aside. Her hands reached for his belt with hunger.

Bill froze for only a second before helping her. She unbuckled his belt, popped the button on his shorts, and slipped her hand down inside. Her fingers found him instantly... hot, hard, thick... and she moaned softly at the feel of him.

She pulled him forward, guiding him between her thighs, positioning him with a precision that made his knees weak.

His cock slipped free from the waistband of his boxers... flushed, full, throbbing.

With one hand, Lynn held him there. With the other, she reached between her legs, spread her lips wide, and pulled him against her slick entrance. She dragged his swollen head along the length of her folds, coating him with her arousal.

Bill hissed through his teeth, jaw clenched tight as her heat surrounded him.

Then she shifted her hips and pressed forward, letting his tip part her folds and slide just inside. Just enough to feel the wet pressure of her body grip the head of his cock.

She exhaled... low and guttural... her hands gripping his sides.

He stood there, held still, trembling with restraint. His cock throbbed inside her opening, every nerve on fire, her inner walls teasing him with each subtle pulse.

Lynn tried to shift, to move her hips and take him deeper... but the counter edge dug into her back, her legs angled too wide. She flexed, pulled, even lifted slightly... but she couldn't get the leverage.

"Come on..." she whispered, frustrated. "Just another inch..."

But Bill didn't move.

He watched her try. Watched the way her body tried to draw him in... and then just trembled at the effort.

"Oh... fuck..." he whispered.

She looked up at him, eyes blazing.

"Don't tease. Push deeper."

Lynn's raw heat drove Bill on, he grabbed her hips and tried to thrust. But the angle and counter thwarted him, only a third of his cock penetrated her hot channel.

Heat rippled around his cock.

"More," Lynn hissed.

But then... he hesitated.

"Here?" he asked... quiet, uncertain.

That one word broke the spell.

Lynn blinked. Her breath caught. Awareness slammed back into her body like cold water.

She looked past him. The kitchen was still humming... music low, voices drifting in and out from the hallway, footsteps echoing just outside.

The voyeur from earlier was gone, but they weren't alone. Not even close.

Her body stilled. Her thighs released their grip. Her hand slid from his cock, which stood rigid and glistening between them.

She exhaled slowly, breath still shaking from what almost was.

Bill remained frozen, cock still nestled just barely inside her, his own breathing shallow and strained.

Lynn looked up into his eyes.

And for a long second... neither of them said a word.

The silence stretched.

Then Lynn snorted.

Just a tiny, breathy sound... but it cracked them both open.

Bill laughed first. Soft, disbelieving. Lynn followed with a short, ragged burst of laughter that made her double forward slightly... which only made the situation more absurd, because his cock was still halfway inside her.

She looked down between them and grinned.

"Well," she said, still catching her breath, "we can't just leave him like that, can we?"

She reached between them, hand gentle but confident, guiding him out with care. His cock slid free, thick and glistening, twitching in the open air like it had opinions of its own.

"You're not helping," Bill muttered, groaning as she tried... and failed... to tuck him back into his shorts.

"Shhh," Lynn whispered with mock seriousness. "Let the professional handle this."

But it was like wrestling a spring-loaded lever into a space too small. Every time she almost got him in, he twitched again.

"Damn it," she whispered, biting back a laugh. "You need a holster, not boxers."

Bill looked skyward. "This is how I die, isn't it?"

Finally, with a push, a squirm, and an unceremonious zip, she wrangled him into place.

"There," she said, satisfied. "Containment restored. For now."

She dropped her legs, slipped off the counter, and stood in front of him.

"Come with me if you want to fuck," she said in her best Terminator impression, and turned toward the back of the kitchen.

Bill followed like a man under a spell.

-- Chapter 19: These Are Days

"These are days you'll remember..."

"She overwhelmed me, teased me, tested me... and I wanted her even more after every insane second."

-- Bill Fournier

His cock still throbbed in his shorts, half-wild from the counter incident, he followed Lynn through the kitchen with a look halfway between devotion and shellshock.

Before they reached the pantry door, a chipper voice called out: "There you are!"

Lynn turned, mildly annoyed. A petite woman bounced up to them with a teasing grin.

"Who's this guy? And why does he have a boner?" she smirked.

Lynn sighed. "Hi, Simone."

Bill looked mortified. Simone did not help.

"Were you being naughty?" she purred, dragging out the word.

"Maybe, until you so rudely interrupted," Lynn glanced at Bill's crotch, where the shape of his cock still pushed forward, and smirked. "You had to show up right when the guest of honor was about to make his entrance."

"This strapping young man," Lynn motioned to Bill. "Whom I was moments away from riding like a rodeo queen, is Bill. But his friends call him... Bill."

Bill smiled, trying to suppress a snicker.

"Well, Bill, I'm Simone," she said sweetly, stepping toe to toe with him. "Lynn's my roommate. And I always inspect the packages."

Before Bill could react, her hand slid to his crotch. He jumped as her small fingers found and flexed around his cock.

Lynn giggled.

"Mmm. Nice..." Her fingers squeezed curiously, like testing the ripeness of forbidden fruit.

"Damn, Lynn... you weren't exaggerating." Were you planning to share?"

"I know I'm right... And maybe... after I've drained every drop from him," Lynn replied, amused.

Bill cleared his throat. "Ah... don't I get a say in this?"

Simone didn't answer; she just slipped her hand down the front of his shorts. Bill's knees buckled slightly as her fingers slid down his shaft and gave a testing squeeze. Bill felt her tiny hand and fingers try to wrap around his throbbing shaft. He groaned when Simone pumped his cock.

"But would you really pass up having hours-long sex with two hot chicks like us?" Simone mewed, jacking Bill's cock faster, and started to unbuckle his belt. The thought of fucking both of them made his balls tighten.

"Christ... why is his cock so wet?" Simone shot her roommate a glance.

"Christ! Simone," Lynn barked. "Let him go."

Simone pulled her hand out, looked at her palm, which was shiny and wet. She grinned.

"Ooo, he's leaking, too," she teased, licking her hand with slow deliberation. Simone's eyes locked on Lynn with an evil grin, "Why does he taste like you?"

Then she turned to Lynn, cupped a breast, and slipped her slick fingers between Lynn's lips. Lynn sucked them in with a moan and a wink at Bill.

"I know, right?" Simone grinned before replacing her fingers with her lips. The two women kissed, tongues dancing, hands roaming briefly over breasts and hips.

"I'll take him when you're done," Simone whispered. "You know I love licking your cum off a guy's cock."

Bill's brain couldn't catch up. One moment he was about to be inside Lynn, the next he was being handled like a party favor by her roommate, who apparently likes tasting Lynn and kissed like sin. Hel stood there, throbbing and blinking like he'd wandered into the most surreal fever dream of his life.

Simone slid her hand under Lynn's skirt, her eyes went wide. "OH MY GOD!" she gasped. "Your thighs are wet and you're dripping..." Simones eyes darted between Bill and Lynn.

"What do you want, 'Monie?" Lynn finally asked, a little breathless. She ignored Simones question.

"Oh, yeah... Steve and Bob are looking for you. Something about studying for a test?"

"Fuck. Right," Lynn muttered. "Sorry, Bill. Fun might have to wait."

She grabbed his hand. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the usual suspects."

"Well, we'll always have Paris," Bill murmured.

Lynn giggled.

As they entered the dining room, Natalie Merchant's voice rang out... "These are days... you'll remember..." The party surged around them, music blasting, beer flowing.

Lynn and Simone belted out lyrics with invisible microphones, dancing in opposite directions, then spinning back toward Bill.

Lynn grabbed his hand and sang, "Will the whole world be warm as this..."

He joined in, grinning, and the moment turned perfect; music, laughter, and new chemistry everywhere. After that, everything blurred: names, conversations, more dancing, more beer. Time slipped sideways.

Later, the crowd thinned. Only a few remained: Simone curled up with Steve, his hand under her skirt, and Simone softly mewing, Bob was sulking in a chair, and Lynn and Bill on the couch, talking quietly.

Suddenly, Steve stood. "I'm bored. Let's play cards. And we all need fresh beers." Comically, Simone slid off his legs to the floor.

Simone got up and followed him. Bob did too. Lynn turned to Bill.

"This might be fun," she said. "It's still early. Do you want to stay?"

"I'm with you, through and through."

Lynn tilted her head slightly. Something softened in her... not lust, not play... but curiosity, like a puzzle piece had just shifted into place. She leaned in, voice soft but serious.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Are you gay or something?"

Bill blinked. "Uh... no. Why?"

Lynn tilted her head. "Because I've thrown myself at you tonight. And we've spent hours talking. Don't you want to take this body for a ride?"

Bill swallowed. "Hell yes... uh, I mean, no, I'm not gay. And yes, I absolutely want that. I think you can tell that. I would think what happened in the kitchen might answer that question."

"Yeah, you'd think so..." Lynn sighed. "Then why do we still have our clothes on?"

"Were at a party sitting on their couch..."

"Not good enough," Lynn nodded at Simone on Steve's lap. "His fingers have been in her pussy for at least ten minutes and I'm pretty sure she's cum a few times." Lynn giggled.

I glanced over and smiled. Then turned to Lynn and lookied into her hazel eyes.

"This might sound stupid," Bill said, his voice suddenly earnest, "but I don't want you just for tonight. I want coffee dates, and movie nights, and to sit under a tree on the quad and talk about the big questions of our time. You're brilliant and wild and hilarious. I'm as turned on by your brain as I am by your body. And yeah, I want to make love to you, a lot. But I also want tomorrow."

Lynn's face softened. She touched his cheek.

"That's not stupid," she whispered. "That's sexy. So sexy. I'm so lubricated right now, you're gonna think you're on a damn slip-n-slide."

She leaned in and kissed him, melting into his warmth.

"Can I ask you another?" she murmured.

"Anything," he replied, his hand brushing her breast.

"What's your name?"

"Bill. And..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Lynn smirked. "And your friends call me Bill. Cute the first time."

"No, seriously... what's your full name?

"William Thomas Fornier. Yes, my initials are WTF."

"WHAT. THE. FUCK," Lynn howled with laughter.

"And yours, my princess?"

"Lynette Susanna Magdalene Fukumi Takeyuracuma," she said, like a secret she'd practiced saying her whole life.

Bill blinked. "Catholic? And Japanese?"

"Yep. Bleached by generations of white grandmas, but the Japanese is still in there." She gestured to her eyes. "See?"

"I see it now. And your hair's not naturally green, I assume?"

"Nope. It's dark brown. You might be interested to know, my Grandma Rose wrote a book about being one of the only white women interned in the camps during WWII."

"I'd love to read it," Bill said.

"Most guys get stuck on the last names," Lynn said with a grin.

"They are... memorable."

"Yeah, try growing up with Fukumi Takeyuracuma in Catholic middle school," she deadpanned. "Fuck you me, take your cum," Lynn laughed. "And of course, Magdalene; the whore that Jesus saved."

Bill laughed. "But Magdalene? She wasn't a whore. She was an apostle. Some believe she was his wife."

Lynn stared at him. "You amaze me sometimes."

"And your initials?" he grinned. "They're interesting."

"LSMFT?"

Bill grinned. "Those same letters have been on packages of Lucky Strike cigarettes forever. It's supposed to mean: Lucky Strike means fine tobacco. But it ganed another meaning somewhere along the line; Let's screw, my finger's tired."

Lynn burst out laughing. "Thank god none of those horny Catholic boys knew that when their fingers got tired! Or I would have lost my virginity long before I did."

She kissed him again, longer this time.

-- Chapter 20: You Can Leave Your Hat On

"You give me reason to live..."

"He looks at me like he's never seen me before. Like I'm dangerous. Like I'm his."

-- Lynn Takeyuracuma

"Hey, you two," Steve called out, raising his voice over the music. "There'll be time for that later. Get your asses over here."

"What are we playing?" Bill asked as he and Lynn made their way to the glass dining table.

"Poker, my man," Steve grinned. "Dealer's choice, but no weird games with fifteen wild cards."

"I'm out already," Bill said, patting his pockets. "I've got maybe five bucks on me."

"No worries," Steve said, shuffling the cards with a mischievous smirk. "Clothes are the collateral tonight."

Lynn leaned in, her breath warm in Bill's ear. "I think you'll be filling my cup sooner than you think."

They took their seats; Lynn beside Bill, Simone across from them, and Steve and Bob anchoring the ends of the table. After a lively debate over what counted as a "piece" of clothing (the group finally agreed that each shoe and sock counted as one), the game began.

The laughter, teasing, and flirtatious energy built with every round. Steve, shirtless and barefoot, was still holding onto his jeans. Bob was down to his boxers and not even pretending to hide how much he was enjoying the view; his hard cock sticking out of his fly and frequently stroking it. Lynn had lost everything but her red thong, damp with her wetness, and wore her near-nakedness like a dare, her nipples firm, her grin wicked. She spent more time cheering for Bill to lose than trying to win herself, her hand often casually; almost possessively; stroked and rubbed his cock through his khakis.

Simone, meanwhile, had gone all-in early, peeling off her layers in bold order... top first, then bottom. She sat back in the chair with her legs comfortably apart, her fingers regularly stroking and sliding through her deep red gash, wet and slick from her excitement. She was unbothered by her total nudity. Her dark skin glowed under the dim lights, and she wore her confidence like a crown. Whenever she lost a hand, she'd stretch slowly, spreading her legs apart and dipping her fingers deeper into her wet sex, letting everyone take in the full effect of her desire and openness.

Eventually, Simone lost another round.

Steve set down his cards. "Well, looks like it's dare time."

"I'm ready," Simone said without missing a beat, her eyes sparkling. "Make it good."

Steve grinned. "Body shots. One of us gets to drink off Simone's lovely canvas."

"If I cum," she promised. "I'll suck your cocks."

"What about me?" Lynn protested.

"I'll suck your clit," Simone grinned, "Just like I did this morning."

Bob jumped in too fast, but Steve waved him off. "Too eager, man. Let's keep this interesting. Lynn, how about you?"

Lynn nodded and stood, already walking toward Simone. "Gladly."

Steve pulled out a peculiar old office chair, worn but oddly perfect for the task, and helped Simone settle into it. Bob brought over two pairs of novelty fur-lined cuffs, and soon Simone was gently restrained: wrists behind her back, ankles bound beneath the seat. The setup was somewhere between theatrical and obscene. Simone's butt slightly forward in the seat and her knees held wide apart on either side of the cushionn. Simone's pussy bared and open, glistening in the candle light. Her head fell back, and she let out a low moan. "You should've blindfolded me," she said with a devilish grin. "Or at least made me guess who was drinking."

Steve poured slowly, deliberately. A trickle of vodka and Red Bull spilled over Simone's chest, dripping from her nipple. Lynn leaned in and licked the trail clean, pausing to suck gently at Simone's nub. The group watched, riveted, as the drink slid lower. Lynn chased the rivulet down Simone's belly, dipping into her navel, then paused.

"She's gonna spill it," Bill whispered.

No one stopped her. Lynn dropped to her knees and lapped the liquid off her roommate's pussy. Simone's back arched, and she let out a shuddering gasp.

The room got quieter, the energy tightening like a drawn bowstring. Lynn's movements grew more urgent, more focused as she licked and sucked on Simone's sex. Her hair fell like a curtain as she sucked on Simone's clit and drove her tongue deep into her friends cunt, and Simone's moans turned into pleas, bucking her hips and thrusting her mound against Lynn's mouth. Lynn brought up her hand, and drove two fingers into Simone's seething cunt, pumping them rapidly as she licked and bit the writhing coeds engorged clit. It was clear when the dam broke; Simone cried out, "Fuck! I'm cumming." Her body quaking, laughter and ecstasy blurring together.

Someone clapped. Steve maybe. Or Bob. It didn't matter. Bob, who had been jacking his cock, put it to her lips. Simone growled at him between moans, "Fuck yeah, fuck my face," she gasped with an evil grin. Bob held her head with his hands and thrust his cock between her red lips. Bob's pale cock in stark contrast to Simone's dark caramel complexion. Simone eagerly slurped and sucked Bob's shaft as he rapidly plunged his cock into her small mouth. Steve stopped pouring and dropped his pants and briefs. He massaged and sucked on Simone's tits and slowly jacked off.

Lynn, lapped at Simone's clit as she pumped three fingers into the tiny coed's cunt. Stretching and opening Simone's tight hole, then slid in a fourth. Simone's body quaked, and she cried out, her juices flooding Lynn's face as she came again. Lynn reached over and deftly undid Bill's belt and opened Bill's pants with one hand. She pulled out his cock and began to pump it. Lynn cooed when she finally wrapped her fingers around Bill's hard shaft, gripping it tight and stroking it fast. Bill moaned and fondled Lynn's tits and ass.

"Hand Solo," Lynn smiled at Bill, her face shiny with Simone's juices. "Now would be a good time to fill my cup."

"It will be my pleasure, my princess," Bill agreed lustily. He had not imagined a situation like this for his first time with Lynn. Not with an audience, but he would use everything he'd ever learned about pleasuring a woman. Not just for Lynn, but for the rest, too.

Bill dropped his pants and moved behind Lynn. He knelt, his stiff cock slapping her on the top of her ass before it slid down between her legs. His big hands caressed her back and sides, around to her dangling breasts. He slowly pumped his hips, sliding his rigid cock over Lynn's panty-clad pussy as he pulled, pinched, and rolled her hard nipples with his fingers.

"Oh, my... uh, mmm," Lynn sighed, wiggling her ass against Bill.

Bill leisurely caressed the smooth skin of Lynn's torso and then moved down to her hips. Lynn shivered as she felt his warm hands glide over her naked skin. Taking hold of her thong, Bill gently pulled it over her round ass and down her thighs. She lifted each knee, and Bill slid it off her legs. Lynn spread her knees apart, opening herself to Bill. He tenderly laid his hands on the soft but firm globes of Lynn's ass and gently squeezed and kneaded them. He pushed and pulled them apart, them bent forward and licked up her wet slit to her rosebud, swirling his tongue around her dark hole.

"Uh, uh, yuh," Lynn groaned into Simone's pussy. Bill continued to lick upwards between her cheeks and up to the small of her back. Swirling his tongue in the small dimple at the base of her spine, he reversed direction until his tongue swirled around Lynn's clit. Then, he did it all again, several times.

"Uh-h-h-h," Lynn moaned, her body trembling.

Bill licked and flicked his tongue over Lynn's hard clit. He sucked on her large engorged lips and plunged his tongue into her hole. Lynn moaned constantly as Bill orally pleasured her. He loved eating pussy and especially loved large lips and he sucked on them separately and together, licking and drinking her juices that flowed freely onto his face. Bill took her clit between his teeth, flicking the hard nub with is tongue as he slid his thumb into Lynn's pussy, swirling it between her lips and pushing it into her tight hole.

"Uh, gawd.. ugh," Lynn groaned and thrust her hips as he penetrated her. He flexed and pumped his thumb into Lynn while sucking and biting her swollen nub. "OH, uh, gawd, YES!" Lynn cried out, her body spasmed, and a rush of cream gushed from her cunt as Bill made her cum for the second time.

While Lynn trembled through her orgasm, Bill pulled his thumb out of the bottom of her seething gash, sliding it over her taint to her rosebud. Lynn grunted and her body shook as he pressed the tip of his thumb against her dark hole. "UH, wh-wh-what are you... oh, fawk..." Lynn had never been penetrated there, she looked back and whimpered as Bill sucked on her big clit and he pushed his thumb, its tip stretching open her tight hole and entering her ass.

"FUCK! Yuh, uh, uh," Lynn cried out when Bill's thumb pressed into her up to his first knuckle. Her body jerked and shuddered and she pushed her ass back into his hand. Bill shoved his thumb deep, entirely up to his second knuckle and sucked hard, biting her clit. "UGH! YES, YES, FAWK YES," Lynn screamed as she came. Fluids burst from Lynn's pussy. Bill repeatedly thrust his thumb into her ass, sucking her clit to prolong her orgasm.

Bill straightened up and saw Bob shove his cock deep, past Simone's red lips that stretched and slid down his shaft. Bob gruntded, his cum filling Simone's mouth. The first blast hit the back of her throat, and she gagged slightly, but she didn't stop sucking. The second blast was bigger, and Simone's eyes watered as she struggled to swallow it all. The third blast was the biggest of all, and Simone gagged and coughed, spraying Bob's cum all over his lower body and thighs.

Bob's orgasm continued, his cock spewing his thick white cum over Simone's creamy chocolate flesh. Simone took him back into her mouth to take his final loads. Her face and body were streaked with his thick cum, but she didn't seem to mind, her eyes shining with excitement as she sucked him dry.

Lynn was still cumming from Bill's ass fingering, he slid the head of his cock through her open lips, it entered her hot, wet hole and Bill grabbed her hips and thrust hard, driving his aching cock deep into Lynn's cunt. "HOLY FUCKING GOD!" Lynn yelled. She grunted when his cock slammed into the top of her cunt. Bill still had an inch to go.

He was ready to fuck and no longer cared there was an audience. He'd done the group thing before and all he wanted to do was fuck this green-haired girl silly and fill her with his cum. Still, Bill was amazed any of this was happening at all. He was thankful he hadn't left with Scott. Wait till he hears what he missed, Bill thought.

Bill held Lynn's trembling hips, violently plunging his cock into her slick tight pussy. "UH, UM, UH, UH," Lynn moaned, abandoning her roomates pussy, clinging to Simone's legs as he assuulted her cunt from behind. "Fuck YES, Bill, Fill my cup, Fuck me like you mean it!" she bellowed, her body jerking back and forth with his thrusts. Her pussy gripped Bill's shaft and her hips jerked in a frenzied motion, "OH FUCK..." Lyn moaned as she started cumming again. Bill looked up and saw Steve was now fucking Simone's mouth, the beautiful smooth dark caramel skin of her face covered with white streaks of cum, spit, and her smeared makeup.

"Fuck, Lynn, I'm gonna... Fuck, can I..." Bill groaned and stammered.

"UH! Yes, yes, yes... fill my cup, you fucking bastard. Fill me good!" Lynn cried.

Bill slammed his cock deep, his thighs slapping into Lynn's ass. "FUCK!" he yelled as his cum burst from his pulsing cock. "Oh fuck, 'Monie, he's pumping his cum into my womb. Fuck I'm cumming again." Bill's hips jerked and slammed into Lynn's ass with each release of his seed into her convulsing pussy. His cum leaked out around his shaft as his final load filled her cup. Bill fell forward onto Lynn's back, and she slid down Simone's legs until they were on the floor. Bill rolled to his back, bringing Lynn with him. She turned, lying on his chest, and kissed him. Their kiss seemed to last for an eternity.

Their breathing slowed, their kisses tender. Bill smiled, "That was great," he whispered."

"It was fucking awesom," Lynn corrected.

"A veritable slip and slide," Bill laughed.

"I told you," Lynn reminded him. "I've never felt so wet," she purred. I've been like that since you poured my beer. What sort of creature are you? Are you an alien?" Lynn felt both elated and scared. She had never felt an attraction to anyone, ever, like she felt for Bill. She simultaneously wanted to flee and fuck him again.

"No, I'm from Michigan," Bill said in a deadpan tone. They both laughed, and Bill's humor calmed Lynn's internal conflict.

Steve's groan interrupted their laughter, and they looked up in time to see Simone gag and choke as Steve came in her mouth. Simone fared better this time, she didn't cough, but a lot of Steve's cum flowed down her chin and dripped on her tits.

"I really need to teach that girl how to swallow," Lynn laughed, laying her head on Bill's chest. The two lovers closed their eyes, savoring their post-coital bliss.

Bill's eyes opened when he felt Lynn being lifted from his body. He didn't know how much time had passed as he glanced up at Lynn.

"I think it's time for round two," she grinned lustily. Lynn's arms splayed out as the two housemates carried her. Bill thought it looked like they were carrying a sacrificial virgin to an altar.

Steve and Bob carried Lynn to the living room and laid her on a blanket on the floor.

"Hey, don't leave me here," Simone begged. But she was ignored as Lynn willingly spread her legs.

Bill watched, amused, as Steve and Bob played Rock, Paper, Scissors. Bob won, crushing Steve's scissors with his rock. Bob knelt between Lynn's outstretched legs, holding his rejuvenated cock in his hand.

"You guys have wanted to get into my panties all year," Lynn smiled, teasing the two roommates. She bent her finger, beckoning them to her. "Here's your chance, make the most of it. You probably won't get another one."

"Fuck, I never thought this was going to happen," Bob groaned and moved forward, pressing the head of his cock into Lynn's wet sex. He held it there for a brief second, leaned further and kissed Lynn. Bill watched as she shoved her tongue into Bob's mouth. Then Bob thrust, burying his cock in Lynn's waiting cunt.

"UGH, UFF," Lynn grunted, closing her eyes. "FUCK! That's what I'm talking about." Bob started fast, but settled into a steady rhythm, Lynn moaning and squirming under the weight of his body. Steve knelt over Lynn's head and fed her his flaccid dick. Lynn eagerly stroked and sucked it.

Bill got up and released Simone from her bonds. She immediately knelt before Bill, and grasped his spent cock. "Mmmm, let me help you regain your strength," Simone purred, "and you cam be the ninth and biggest cock to fuck my tight littl hole." And the third you sucked tonight, Bill thought. That thought alone caused his cock to stiffen some.

Simone noisily sucked and licked his shaft, bringing Bill to full staff in minutes. He lifted the Nubian Princess and carried her to the living room, laying her on the blanket beside Lynn. He knelt and buried his face between her spread legs. Simone and Lynn smiled at each other as they clasped hands, and their moans filled the room.

Bill licked and sucked on Simone's hot pussy, until she came under his tongue. He licked and kissed his way up her diminutive body, stopping briefly to suck on her heaving orbs. Bill's thick cock stretched and entered Simone's tight channel as he kissed her passionately.

At the same time, Bob reached his peak and filled Lynn's green cup with his seed as she screamed through another orgasm. Bob had barely pulled out when Steve plunged his hard cock into Lynn's spasming cunt. Bill and Steve unconsciously moved in synchronous rhythm as they drove their cocks into the two roommates. Lynn and Simone moved closer, embracing in a passionate kiss, moaning and cumming together.

It wasn't a race, but Bill reached his explosive climax first, Simone's tight pussy gripped and squeezed his shaft. He hadn't felt anything like that since he took Jan's virginity over a year earlier. And like that time, his cock erupted, his hot cum filling the petite coed's womb, pumping several streams of his seed into her before he was spent. Bill collapsed to Simone's side as Steve emptied himself into Lynn.

Steve and Bob went to get a beer, and Bill sat up, leaning against the couch. He glanced over at the flushed bodies of the two roommates, who were embracing each other, spread-eagled on the blanket. Bill looked at his green-haird goddess, lying naked, coated in the sweat of three men and filled with their cum.

What followed was a hazy stretch of time where boundaries blurred. Kisses were shared. Bodies moved together in different combinations. Some moments were passionate, others playful. No one kept score. No one asked questions.

Finally, a couple of hours later, their carnal desires quelled, the five participants collapsed in exhaustion. Lynn dragged Bill to an upstairs bathroom where they showered. They tenderly washed remnants of the wild and unexpected orgy from their bodies. Lynn tried to use the handheld to rinse the cum out of her pussy. Bill wasn't sure if she had been successful, but Lynn managed to make herself cum again and Bill's erection returned in the process. They dried off and rejoined the others in the living room.

Steve and Bob were asleep in their respective chairs, and Simone was curled up at one end of the couch. They were all covered with blankets. Bill assumed they were all still naked because he could see their bare legs. Lynn and Bill, who could not see any other blankets, snuggled together at the other end of the couch and dozed.

Bill woke confused and found himself with Lynn in the living room, the others fading into the background. She climbed onto his lap and kissed him, slow and deep, like she'd been waiting all night for just that moment. He tasted Simone on her lips, felt the warmth of her bare skin press into his. She positioned his partial erection between her legs and lowered herself on him.

"Still think you can fill my cup?" she whispered, brushing her fingers across his chest.

He laughed. "Oh, isn't it already full?"

"I emptied it just for you," she smiled and began to move up and down on his rapidly stiffening shaft.

They didn't need a room. The couch was good enough. Maybe not comfortable, maybe not private, but it didn't matter. What mattered was how Lynn looked at him, like she'd chosen him, specifically, in a night where anything could happen. They made love, slowly and passionately, until they both came in a crescendo of light and colors. As they melted into each other's arms, Simone joined them, her blanket covering them all.

Later, much later, he woke up under the blanket. Simone, on her knees, sucking his once again stiff cock. Lynn was gone.

Groggy and confused, the room slowly came into focus. Bob knelt between Steve's outstretched legs and sucked his roommate's cock. Steve was still sleeping. Simone and Bob had a bet on who could make their person cum first. Simone was talking trash between sucking and jacking Bill, because Bill woke first. But Steve woke soon after, and he quickly came down Bob's throat. Simone, stopped sucking Bill and mounted him.

Bill marveled that he could still get it up and how tight her pussy was, even after being fucked like five different times that night. He and Simone did not make slow, passionate love. Simone rode him like she was in heat. He sucked on her little breasts as she wildly bounced on his cock. Fully impaling herself each time. After a few minutes she started cumming. He might have felt good she had cum so quickly, but Bill knew it was more about her than him.

As Simone road him, Bill saw that Steve and Bob exchanged positions and Steve was sucking Bob's cock. It was kinda hot, and he could tell they'd done this many times before. Not surprisingly, Bill felt his orgasm building as Simone ground her pussy on him through several orgasms. He grabbed the petite woman's smooth caramel hips and slammed her down on his shaft, filling her with what cum he had left.

"God," Bill thought as he fell asleep with Simone still impaled on his softening shaft. "I hope these two ladies were on birth control."

Lynn had left, and Simone wouldn't tell him why or where they lived. He wandered the campus for days afterward, scanning the quad, checking coffee shops, the student center, and the library. And one afternoon, while researching something totally unrelated, an obscure war Bill didn't even remember volunteering to cover, he saw her.

A flash of blue hair. Not green. But could it be?

A white mini-skirt. Flared hips, his hands felt so good holding.

Standing at the top of a ladder, one foot on a shelf, re-shelving books with a little sway to her hips, entirely unaware of her audience. Bill silently walked to the ladder and saw a pantiless blue muff under her skirt.

"I'd recognize those hips anywhere," Bill said, smiling, and hoping she would talk to him.

Lynn glanced down and smiled. "Hi there, Hand Solo. Fancy meeting you here."

-- Chapter 21: Nothing Compares 2 U

"It's been so lonely without you here..."

"I still love him. That's the part I'll never say out loud."

-- Dr. Lynette Takeyuracuma, PhD.

"So... Bill, what were you thinking about?" Lynn asked with a smile, her gaze dipping to his cock. Sweat clung to her dress at her breasts and hips, and delicate rivulets traced her neck, slipping into the valley between her breasts. Lynn could feel a steady stream of sweat run down her belly and into her panties, mixing with the other moisture coming from inside her.

"The first night we met," he said, eyes far away.

"Me too." Her smile widened. "I figured something was up. Your cock's stiffer than when I walked in."

"It was a wild night."

"It was. A night of firsts." She smirked. "The first time I met you. But also my first orgy. First time I had two guys, let alone three, fuck me in one day. Or as it turned out, fuck me at the same time."

"You never told me that."

"You didn't need to know."

"And now I do?"

"Maybe. And... it was the first time anyone entered my ass."

Bill blinked. "Seriously?"

"Dead serious. I loved it. Still do."

"You also never told me why you disappeared."

"I was scared."

"Of what?"

Her eyes softened. "You. Or rather... what you did to me." She paused. "And then you fucked Simone."

"That wasn't payback. She woke me up with my cock in her mouth."

"She left that part out. And apparently, you've fucked her since. Why didn't you mention you'd seen my old bestie?"

"You didn't need to know." He grinned.

"And now?"

"Probably."

"You didn't seem scared when I found you in the library. Or when you dragged me into the storage closet."

"I wasn't. Not anymore. I processed things. I wanted you to find me. I let you find me."

"You let me?"

"I checked the library records. You always checked out volumes from that section, so I convinced my boss to assign me there. I worked those shelves for two days before you finally showed."

"No panties, all those times?"

"None."

"Anyone else notice?"

"Yeah. A couple. One co-worker, I sucked his cock for a week to keep him quiet. My boss found out anyway; he caught me the morning you found me. I fucked him weekly until semester's end."

"Jesus."

"You didn't need to know."

"I almost didn't recognize you. You changed your hair."

"I wanted orange, but green wouldn't lift. So we went blue."

"Did she color your bush, too?"

"Of course. She'd eat me out first, then wash and dye me. Then she'd ride my face while it processed. She had an incredibly long tongue."

"Nice setup."

"Worked for us. I ended up marrying her brother."

"You were married?"

"You didn't need to know."

"Do I now?"

"More every minute."

"Any kids?"

"One. She's been at Carnegie Mellon almost five years."

"What happened?"

"I didn't love him. I only loved one man. But he didn't love me back. "

"Who?"

"You don't need to know."

"Will I ever?"

"Maybe. So, Bill... what are we doing? My panties are soaked with sweat. Why do you want me to stay?"

"Because I love you. I always have. I always will."

"You said that earlier. Why should I believe you now?"

Bill spoke loudly into the air, "Siri, play Lynn's Mix Tape."

The room filled with Natalie Merchant's voice as "These Are Days" poured from the speakers.

Lynn's eyes lit up. She swayed unconsciously, memories washing over her.

"You still have this?"

"I've worn out tapes. Burned it to a CD. Now it's on iTunes. I listen to it all the time. Especially lately. Every day. And it made me realize; how badly I fucked up. I should've fought for you when you asked to be friends."

"You could've stopped bringing others into our bed."

"I thought you wanted that."

"I did. Then I didn't. And you kept doing it, without me. I settled for friendship because I didn't want to lose you."

"I'm not that guy anymore."

"Really? What about your 'family affair'?"

"If you stay, I'll end it."

"No, don't make that promise."

"Why not?"

"Because you are who you are. You're the same guy who ruined me the night we met. And I don't want to change you. I just want you to be real with me."

Bill hesitated. "I ruined you...?"

"Shut the fuck up, Bill," Lynn said gently, and walked out.

He stared at the door. "Ruined her?" he muttered. The surveillance stayed dark; she hadn't left. Moments later, the door opened. She returned, naked, glistening, radiant. Bill heard the dryer humming faintly in the background.

She pressed her body to his, and his half-hardened cock sprang to life.

"I'll stay," she whispered, kissing him.

"I'd ask why, but I know what you'll say."

"No, you need to know. I love you too. I realized it months ago. Denied it, fought it, but the other night confirmed it. Do you remember?"

"Yeah. I thought I dreamed it."

"It was real. It was nineteen all over again." Lynn backed Bill to the bench, and he sat down. She stood over him, took his stiffening member in her hand, and slowly stroked it.

"What are you doing?"

Giving myself to you and taking what is mine. Lynn's hazel eyes flashed... not just with desire, but devotion, defiance, and something so old it felt elemental.

"Do you think you can fill my cup?"

She straddled him, warm skin brushing his thighs as she guided his cock between her slick folds. She rubbed herself against him with slow, deliberate strokes, coating him in heat, soaking him with her want. When she finally began to sink down, it was a surrender and a claim in the same breath. A sigh escaped her lips as Bill's cock slid deep inside, thickening as her body welcomed him home.

It was more than entry. It was connection.

Completion.

The final puzzle piece sliding into place.

"God... I waited so long for this."

The deep synth thump of "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" filled the room, its pulse matching the rhythm of her hips. Lynn began to move, grinding to the beat, her inner muscles pulsing with every rotation. She raised her arms, her body dancing over him like water made flesh, a slow erotic trance that pulled him under.

Her voice rose in perfect harmony with Annie Lennox: "Sweet dreams are made of this... who am I to disagree..."

Bill's hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into her skin as he watched her ride him... not just with pleasure, but with power. Her movements were reverent, ritualistic. Every thrust was a declaration. Every sway of her hips, a prayer whispered in sweat and moans.

He'd never seen her like this ... never seen anyone like this.

It wasn't sex.

It was alchemy.

As the song ended, she stilled, mostly, her hands resting on his shoulders, her hips circling in slow, tight motions that drew out the tension instead of easing it. Her breath tickled his cheek.

"I don't just want to stay tonight." Her voice was low, vulnerable, alive.

"I want coffee dates. Dinner. Walks in the park... sitting under a tree and discussing the big questions of our time."

Bill's heart flipped... not just from her words, but from the way they echoed his own.

"Will you go to a silly movie with me?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered, her lips brushing his.

Their kiss was molten, their mouths devouring one another, breath and need tangled in the dark. Lynn began to move again... slower now, but deeper, her hips rolling, angling, taking him all the way in.

Bill groaned into her mouth as her body clutched him, held him. Welcomed him.

They found their rhythm again, a rising tide of flesh and friction. Her pace built, hips bouncing, slick skin slapping, breath coming faster.

Her moans sharpened, every thrust driving them closer, higher.

His hands roamed up her back, over her breasts, and down to her hips again, gripping tight.

Her inner walls began to flutter, her cries growing wild, her head thrown back, hair flying.

She clenched around him... once, twice... and then she broke.

Lynn shattered like glass in sunlight.

She came hard, riding every pulse, her whole body contracting, milking him. Bill followed with a groan that came from his soul, exploding inside her, pouring himself into her with everything he had.

Their climax was volcanic.

Trembling. Shuddering.

Timeless.

She collapsed onto him, arms around his shoulders, legs still wrapped around his waist. They stayed there... breathless, shaking, soaked in sweat and each other.

Limbs tangled. Hearts pounding.

Held by memory.

And hope.

After a long moment, Bill kissed her gently.

"Can I ask you something?" he said softly. "And this time, I need to know."

"Anything."

"Who's the only man you ever loved?"

Lynn leaned back just as Sinéad O'Connor's voice echoed from the speaker:

"It's been seven hours and fifteen days..."

She looked at the speaker, then at him.

"I keep his mix tape in my jewelry box," she murmured, and kissed him.

________________________________

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