CAW 33- Second Chances

Discussion in 'Calling All Writers - CAW 33' started by ahorsewithnoname, Mar 4, 2018.

  1. ahorsewithnoname

    ahorsewithnoname Author & Admin. Live. Love. Write! Win a Pulitzer! Staff Member

    Second Chances



    Prelude...



    June 2012, Afghanistan

    The rocky shoreline of the Qargha Reservoir offered a picturesque backdrop for the wedding photos. Staff Sergeant Rob “Coop” Cooper was best man, his buddy Sgt. First Class Tommy “Ratatat” Gunn taking the plunge with Marine Gunnery Sergeant Mckenzie “Mickey” Walters on the warm Thursday evening.

    There was a much larger wedding taking place on the other side of the resort hotel, with what looked to be several hundred in attendance. It wasn't until near midnight before the first sounds of gunfire erupted. Initially, Rob and the guests thought it was just some drunks at the other wedding, but when he looked through night vision goggles, he could clearly see armed men shooting and killing guards.

    Leadership instincts took over as the groom and his men quickly got the lights doused and moved everyone to more secure quarters. Three of the groomsmen, including Rob, were Sniper School graduates. They retrieved their weapons from the lockbox in the Hummer and took positions atop the hotel. Because of the relatively short distance the projectiles would need to travel, silencers were affixed.

    Slowly the intruders, later determined to be Taliban militants, were picked off by the sharpshooters. When the few remaining figured out what was happening, they fled the scene.

    Three months later, for gallantry in action against an enemy of the United States, saving both civilian and military lives, Rob and four others were awarded the Silver Star.

    A few months after that, it was an ambush that prematurely ended his military career. Caught in a crossfire, Rob caught a round in the knee, sending him stateside and then discharged with disability pay and a Purple Heart.

    With a few months recovery in store for him, Rob moved back to his hometown of Spencerville, OH, population 2,223, where he settled into an apartment and finally started to work on his goatee, now that he was free of Army regulations.

    Six months later, he was working as a Deputy Sheriff, and within a couple of years, was elected Sheriff.



    Chapter 1

    “Hello Sheriff Coop de Doop!”

    Looking around, Rob saw that it was old man Goat. He smiled and waved, then responded with “Hey Billy Goat!” as he continued walking. His last name wasn't Goat, but, he had this straggly gray beard, and his first name was William, and while Rob couldn't quite pull all the pieces together, it had something to do with all of Goat's brothers and sisters that townsfolk got to calling him Uncle William...then it progressed to Uncle Billy, and before long he was Uncle Billy Goat. Old man Goat chuckled every time he heard someone call him that. Not his kids, though. Ellen and Levi simply called him Dad.

    The day was coming to a close and Rob was happy about that. He'd dealt with a smashed mailbox out on 199 at the Jonesville farm, and then got called to the high school about a suspicious gas smell. Turned out to be a couple of kids mixing liquids in the chemistry department without proper ventilation. Can you spell D-E-T-E-N-T-I-O-N chuckled Rob to himself as he watched Miss Crenshaw, the aged principal, tongue lash the two youths. From there it was a quick hop across the 2nd Street Bridge to the Fire Department for his mandatory lifesaving refresher course. Everyone at the department knew he could teach the course standing on one foot, but village bylaws were bylaws.

    He had but one more scheduled stop, the short jaunt down Canal Street to St. Patrick's. In exchange for letting his veteran's group hold weekly meetings in the basement, he'd agreed to referee basketball early Friday evenings with boys from the parish.

    Rob was glad that there was a second referee who liked nothing better than to run up and down the court all game long. He knew his knee would never stand up to that kinda' punishment, so he was content with hovering around mid-court, toward one sideline, and making his calls from there.

    Once in a while he'd make a controversial call and one of the kids would get a little mouthy. Rob would take hold of his jacket and open it a bit, revealing his Sig Sauer weapon, and that would most often diffuse the tension into laughter. After the games Rob would open his trunk and pull out an ice chest filled with soft drinks and a box full of snacks, all paid for by him, and him and the kids would sit around and talk about sports.

    The group dispersed around 10pm and after Rob cleaned up a bit, he opted to head over to Mollies for a drink or two and some conversation.

    The bar had a fair amount of people in it for a small town dive, but the music was good and Rob was looking forward to shoot a wild turkey or two. He checked his watch and saw that he had less than ten minutes until he was officially off the clock. He was a stickler about that, and paused, not going to the bar yet, but instead just leaning against the wall, ready to close his eyes for a moment.

    Movement caught his attention. You can never let it rest, never leave Afghan, he thought to himself as he zeroed in on a chestnut brown-haired woman at the jukebox. She looked dowdy from a distance, baggy clothes, almost a hobo look. But it wasn't her that got his trouble antenna raised. No, it was Levi, son of Billy Goat, a fellow Afghan soldier, though quite a bit younger. He looked drunk and looked like he was trying to converse, unsuccessfully, with the hobo. Then he saw Levi reach for her arm and that sprung him into motion.

    Reaching around Levi's chest, he took hold of the younger and somewhat smaller man, pulling him back gently but firmly as he spoke to him.

    “Hey there Levi!” He saw the young man turn, a scowl starting on his face until he recognized the Sheriff. “Looks like you have had a few too many tonight.” As he was talking, he moved gracefully, both his military and martial arts training spot on, positioning himself between the inebriated soldier and his female quarry. Gently, he told himself, divert and deflect, do not push.

    “Coop! Hey man, how ya' doing'?”

    Part of his survival instincts, the instincts that kept him alive for two tours in-country, was his innate ability to ascertain the threat level in an instant. Levi, he concluded, was no threat tonight, maybe a little bit horny, but too wasted to be any good to any woman tonight. He smiled at Levi, not his “I'm gonna' rip your nuts off and stuff them in your mouth” smile, but his disarming smile.

    “Bro! This is Bobbie Soxx! I'm serious, right here!”

    Coop briefly looked toward the woman, still keeping his body mostly positioned between the two, and keeping Levi in his peripheral vision. He was surprised. This was no hobo. This was an attractive woman dressing way, way down, almost in disguise. He nodded, then turned his attention back to Levi.

    “That's good to know.” His mind was processing data quickly now. “Now why don't we leave the lady alone, and see about getting you home?”

    With one hand around his back, and another holding his arm, Rob assisted Levi in getting back onto his bar stool. He motioned to the bartender and said a few words, and the bartender picked up the phone and started dialing. Rob made the “pour some coffee” motion with his hand as he pointed to the pot and the bartender took the hint.

    He turned his attention once more to Levi. He felt bad for him. He knew from the kid attending a few meetings with the other veterans that he was hurting inside.

    “I bet your Mom even has some leftovers she could heat up for you,” he offered. Now THAT got Levi's attention despite his addled condition.

    “They was havin' smashed potatoes and gravy when I left. Man that sound good!”

    “Then you sit tight here, and I bet she will warm some of them up for you when you get home.” He started to walk from Levi to the woman but decided to try once more.

    “Levi? Why don't you come to the meeting Wednesday night? It's been awhile since we saw you there.” He then covertly flashed Levi the hand signal from Afghan that indicated “you're my brother”.

    Despite his haze in thinking about his Mom's cooking, he smiled at Rob and nodded twice.

    Rob continued over toward the woman who had found her seat back at the far end of the bar.

    “I apologize. Levi there really isn’t a bad kid. He just needs to find his way.” Rob gently sat down on the stool next to her, seeing if she was going to send him any signals to back off. “I’m not trying to make excuses for him, but he just got back from Afghanistan. That place will do a number on you. He is still trying to sort it all out. If he’d come to the veteran's meetings, we could give him a hand.”

    “Anyway, I hope he didn’t disturb you much Miss Socks?” It was half-statement, half-question.

    She got an amused look on her face, laughed, and then when he looked confused she really began to laugh hard and covered her eyes. She seemed . . . relieved.

    “I’m sorry,” she said, covering her mouth to keep her voice down. “Bobbie Soxx isn’t my name. At least it isn’t anymore, I mean, I’m not her anymore.”

    Hmmm, he mused . . . she sounds a bit loopy. She doesn't seem drunk. I wonder if she works at Charles River Labs and maybe sniffed too many chemicals today?

    “Hi, I’m Carrie Anne.” She took his hand. “Carrie Anne Hutchins. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Coop.”

    Rob laughed a bit himself. “That isn’t my name either, I guess we both have mysterious names.” His hand was twice the size of hers as he shook it lightly. “I’m Rob Cooper. Coop to most.”

    He looked down and saw that her drink was empty.

    “Can I get you a drink?”

    He saw that she paused for a moment. Probably thinks I'm hitting on her. That's the trouble with bars. I'll just excuse myself--

    “That's alright, I don't want to trouble you,” she said, but there was something slightly inviting in her voice.

    “Really, no trouble. I’ll even move a few seats down if you don’t feel like talking. Besides, John at the bar is a friend of mine,” he continued, standing up to remove his jacket. He tried his signature line that usually got him a smile. “He gets me my drinks for free.”

    Bueller? Bueller? Tough crowd, he thought, fully removing the jacket. He saw her eyes widen and realized she was looking at his large weapon, his badge and handcuffs.

    “Oh! You must be the new sheriff.”

    New, he thought, not really. He looked at his watch, thought about making an excuse to get away, but then just whistled to get John the bartender's attention.

    “Only for the next thirty seconds, or so.” He took off his badge, belt and holster as John produced a lock box from under the cash register. After Rob deposited the items into it and locked it, John returned it under the cash register. He then gave Rob his first Wild Turkey for the evening.

    He looked at her casually, trying not to startle her. “So what do you say? Can I get you that drink?”

    She nodded. “Sure,” she said, enjoying things once again, “I'll have the same, but only a single.” As the bartender fetched her a shot, she continued, “You talked about Afghanistan as if you knew it. Were you there too?”

    He paused, hoped that John would mind his own businesses, then answered. “Years before Levi there, but yes, I served.” He caught John's eye as he set the shot down in front of her, and knew he wasn't gonna' let it go.

    “Coop here did more than serve. You are sitting next to a gen-u-wine hero.” He nodded toward Rob and continued. “He has the purple heart, and the silver star to prove it.”

    John said this with admiration, but he too caught the “fuck off” look in the sheriff's eyes and backed away from the bar, wiping his hands and wanting to get in the last word.

    “Pretty girl like that? If you are too stupid to brag about yourself, then I will!”

    Rob heard Carrie laugh and thought about walking away. It had been a long day and wasn't in the mood to hear any baby-killer shit in case she went that direction. As he started to raise his glass to drain it and move on, she clinked hers against it. He looked at her, warily.

    “Thank you for the drink, but more than that, thank you for being MY hero.” He studied her for a quick moment, using instinct as his guide once again. She seemed genuine; his sarcasm meter was pegged at zero. She hitting on me, he wondered?

    He saw her turn back to her drink, and take sip. Not much of an attempt, he thought, then decided that perhaps he was just a bit edgy and needed to chill.

    “You said Hutchins? Are you any relation to Martha Hutchins over at The Mortar and Pestle, over there on Main and Greenlawn?” He hoped that this diversion would take them to safer grounds.

    “Yes. She is my mother,” she replied, thinking about her mom's natural herb and essential oils shop, a hobby that had bloomed into a thriving business. “I guess knowing all the business owners is kind of a job requirement.”

    “I do try. But she made me a eucalyptus and mint rub for my knee that works like a miracle. Even on bad days, it takes away most of the pain. Reminds me that I have to swing by and get another jar.” He took a swig from his glass. “I didn’t know she had a daughter.”

    “I have been away.”

    He looked at her once again and saw what looked like a wince.

    “I lived in California for about eight years.” She seemed a little reluctant.

    “Wow, that sounds exciting. I bet you have a lot of stories from the big city.”

    He started to take another swig but heard her mumble something and so he looked toward her again and saw that she had lowered her head. Crap, he thought, his brow furrowing, I'm always stepping in it.

    “I wasn’t meaning to say something to upset you.” His concern was present in his voice, and upon his face.

    “It’s alright,” she said, trying to calm him, “I’m fine, I just . . . .” He saw that she once again was at a loss for words. What is it with her? Mass murderer, he mused silently.

    “I don’t mean to pry, but would you like to grab a table and talk? I’ve been told that I’m a pretty good listener.” Last chance. I don't wanna' sound like I'm hitting on her.

    “Are you trying to interrogate me sheriff?” He saw the first sign of mirth in her voice, and smile, but he was still a bit concerned.

    “Ma’am, I am off duty. Nothing you say can or will be held against you. So how about it, do you need a friend to talk to?”

    “No, really, I'm . . .” and she stopped once more. He waited, and just when the silence bordered on getting awkward, a sure sign for him to leave her alone, she spoke up again.

    “Yeah. Okay. I'd like that a lot.” He looked at her and made the split-second decision that she was telling the truth, so he got John to refresh their drinks. Looking around, he saw a table in the corner and figured that it would offer the most privacy, at least in this place.

    When they got settled and John brought the drinks over, she began talking again, oblivious to John's wink at Rob, and Rob's eye roll back at John. He turned his attention back to her.

    “I moved to California to become an actress. In the end, I guess that’s what I was. When Levi said my name was Bobbie Soxx, that was my stage name.”

    “Really?” He found this interesting, an actress, that was different. “Would I have seen you in anything?” His attention was now laser-focused on her.

    She laughed, but he could tell that it wasn't at his expense, almost more of a self-deprecating laugh. He waited, watching her take a deep breath.

    “That would depend on the kind of thing you like to watch. You see, I ended up as an adult film actress.”

    He sat nonplussed, but combat taught him how to not react one iota. His friends told him he'd be a terror at poker.

    “I was a porn star.” She seemed to think that he must not have understood, or maybe she was waiting for some kind of reaction. He simply nodded, giving her tacit approval to continue.

    And continue she did. A little reluctant at the beginning, as she got more into the story the words came faster. She went in-depth, talking for minutes at a stretch seemingly without a breath. Occasionally she'd pause, as if testing to see if he was still with her. Never once did he fall into the thousand yard stare.

    In fact, he was mesmerized a bit by how easy she talked about being naked on stage, and then the switch to porn. Several times during the near monologue he became somewhat aroused, partly because he wondered what she looked like under the baggy outfit, but also partly because of the way that she talked about her involvement in the sex industry. She wasn't vulgar, not at all, but there were some parts that he'd definitely classify as racy. Not that he was a prude, far from it.

    He'd motioned to John at one point to bring coffee, having had his limit on alcohol. He let her ramble, giving her occasional nods and other small bits of response to keep her moving forward. It was as if she had this great big weight on her back and he was content to let her shed it.

    “And that is about it. I knew that if I were to stay even one more day, that I would have ended up just like Autumn. I came home to try and salvage what is left of my life. I no longer have any friends here. Some have married, or moved away, and the ones that know what I did in California all turned their backs on me. But that is alright, because I won’t end up dead in some apartment with no one knowing my real name.”

    He looked at her and was debating whether to say it or not. He didn't want it to come off as flippant, not at all, but didn't want it to sound corny either. Fuck it, he thought, here goes.

    “You are now MY hero.” He waited for her reaction, which was short in coming; a snort! Wasn't expecting that he thought then paid attention as she replied.

    “I am nobody’s hero. I made a lot of bad decisions, and I will spend the rest of my life living with them.”

    Wounded, he thought. Without thinking, he reached across the table and took her hands in his.

    “You did what you had to do to survive. That is very brave. They may have been bad choices, I will not say they weren’t, but you made the choice to go on. I have seen guys freeze up on the field, they lost their lives because they couldn’t make a decision. You made the choice to keep moving forward, and that makes you a survivor.”

    He thought he saw the start of wetness in her eyes, and gently squeezed her hands a bit more, then saw the time on his watch. She saw the time too, her eyes showing surprise at the late hour. He saw her studying his eyes a bit.

    “Why don’t I walk you home? You said you live above your mom’s shop? That’s right down the block, and the fresh air will do us both good.” He saw her nod, so he went to get his law enforcement gear back, and she joined him at the bar with her purse. The place was literally shutting down around them.

    As they walked home, he thought about extending his arm but didn't, not wanting to appear in any way forward at this critical juncture. During the small talk, he was trying to figure out how to ask her out without it sounding, well, too forward. He knew she was wounded and anything wounded needed to be treated gently.

    He saw that they were at her stop and he was mildly irritated at himself for not having any game.

    “I hope I didn’t terrify you with everything I dumped on you tonight. It turns out that I needed that much more than I realized. It felt good to let it all out.” She was leaning against a lamp post.

    Awkwardly, he stuck his hand out to shake hers and was fairly surprised to have her move in for a hug. He felt her arms around him and he reciprocated, then realized that this was a full body hug, not one of those hugs that women give when when don't want their breasts pressing into you. He felt them, and felt the rest of her body molded up against his. And smelled her hair. Oh shit!

    Danger Will Robinson!” he thought as he felt himself starting to get aroused again, and used all of his willpower, as well as thoughts of his 84 year old grandmother, to slow down Mr. Stiffy. He spoke, trying to distract himself.

    “Anytime you need someone to talk to, just give me a call.” He was never so grateful in his life for a pseudo-embrace to end as she backed up slightly, looking up at him. He hoped she hadn't felt anything.

    “Will you go to dinner with me? I spent all night talking about myself. It’s only fair that you let me buy you dinner and hear your story.” He saw a slight red tint to her cheeks, mostly hidden by the darkness and the shadows.

    He smiled at her. “Sure, I'd love to.” He then gave her one of his work cards. “Just give me a call,” noticing that his buddy Roscoe was saluting at full mast now, thankful that she'd backed up.

    Then she was back in his arms once again for another hug, giving him a quick panic attack, and just as quickly she was gone, walking up the steps.

    Coop whistled as he walked, and if anyone had been around to see him, they'd have thought him the village idiot with his ear-to-ear grin.



    Chapter 2

    The hot shower felt great to Coop as the steam filled the bathroom. It wasn't a large house, but it was reasonably new, and being on Brett Lane on a cul-de-sac meant less traffic. The biggest saving grace was the swimming pool in the backyard. Being able to lounge around in the pool on days off in the summer, now that was a slice of heaven.

    His mind wandered back to Carrie once again for perhaps the twentieth time in the past half-hour. He understood why she went incognito tonight, but he was looking forward to seeing her without the baggy clothes and just, well, being herself.

    He had given in to temptation when he got home and googled her stage name. He resolved to himself that he wasn't going to try and find any clips of her, but rather, he just wanted to see what her face and hair looked like, since she made a point of telling him how different she looked back then.

    He was shocked at the platinum dyed hair and her almost gaunt face. He would have been hard pressed to recognize her even if he had watched some of her movies. He'd started to close the browser window quickly, but then decided it wouldn't hurt to watch just a few seconds of a clip

    Twenty minutes later, he realized that he'd absentmindedly been stroking himself a bit while watching and thinking of her. Oh what the hell, he thought, I may as well. At least I'll get to sleep easier.

    Getting into the shower he turned on the water, waited a moment, then got in, turning around, letting the hot water pound against his back. Soaping up his right hand, he closed his eyes and started to imagine the scenario that would have her in the shower with him. He began to lazily stroke himself.

    He'd have invited her over to dinner, and being very warm, he'd have told her to bring her bathing suit. For dinner he'd have dressed smartly but casually, trying to wearing a shirt that would partially hide his few extra pounds.

    His plan would be to grill New York Strip steaks and cook a couple of baked potatoes too. A fresh salad for the greens, and some Italian bread would round out the offering.

    As he got deeper into the fantasy, it became more reality than not.

    The air was indeed warm, but not too uncomfortable so that they couldn't dine outside on the patio, overlooking the in-ground pool. The grass could have been cut a bit lower, he thought, but it wasn't that bad. He'd made sure to clean the house well before she arrived. A red wine was uncorked and set out to breathe. Everything was perfect.

    They'd eaten, and the conversation was great. She looked incredible. Her hair was no longer pulled into a pony but instead hung partway down her back, with some curls worked into it. She wore a peach knit blouse that clung to her body like a second skin, letting him know pretty much the exact size and shape of her breasts. He thought he detected a hint of nipple pressing through at times but wasn't positive. He was positive that her butt was near perfect in the casual but classy slacks she was wearing.

    After dinner they were slowly walking around the pool, just chatting about nothing of consequence when he made a small joke at her expense and while they both laughed, she nudged him a bit. Balance was never his strong suit, and into the pool he fell, wine glass in hand!

    She was aghast at her faux pas! Her eyes were wide, her mouth open and the apologies came raining down as he surfaced and looked as surprised as she.

    “Oh my god, I'm so so sorry, Rob, honest, I had no idea that you'd lose your balance, and, oh god, please--”

    “It's okay, take it easy, Carrie. I'm not mad.” He moved over toward the edge and started to work his way out but was struggling. He quickly put a hand up and said “Help?” and she was quick to reach down and try and help.

    He gripped her much smaller hand in his and with a slight pull sent her hurtling toward the water! He turned and tread water, waiting for her to surface. When she did, she was facing away and had to spin around to find him.

    Her eyes went from surprise to “I'm gonna' get you!” in fractions of a second. He was laughing as she swam over to him and began splashing him, asking if he still thought it was funny as she continued to splash. He held his arms up in mock surrender and she moved closer holding onto his arms with hers so that she wouldn't slip under the water.

    Her face was mere inches from his, and despite her mascara taking a beating, he thought she looked like a million bucks.

    She leaned in and they kissed, first just a tender, inquisitive kiss, and then it turned passionate, her arms going around his shoulders, her hands holding his head as their tongues began dancing.

    The rhythm at which he was stroking his cock had increased, now steady, almost measured.

    Breaking apart from the kiss, they looked at each other, an almost measured look, as if to determine the next step.

    He took charge, silently taking her hand and leading her to the end of the pool and then up the steps. He continued walking with her across the patio, still holding her hand, then through the sliding glass doors.

    They passed through the kitchen silently, unconcerned about the trail of water. As he led her into the master bedroom she had to suppress a slight gasp as she saw it . . . the bed.

    But he didn't stop there, continuing to lead her into the large master bath where she saw an oversized walk-in shower complete with two shower heads. It was here that he released her hand and walked to the shower, turning on the water, the heat apparent as steam started to rise almost immediately.

    She looked down at the floor momentarily, noticing the clean mortar between the tile, then moving back up to Rob as he looked at her.

    “Chlorine,” he said, a slight smile on his face as he pulled his shirt up and over his head, dropping it with a wet plop. Turning slightly away from her in a modicum of modesty, he then followed suit with his wet jeans and boxers, then stepped into the rising mist.

    The stroking took on a more rapid pace, the lubrication provided by the soap allowing the increase without chaffing. His cock head started to ooze precum which quickly got added to the soap, increasing his pleasure.

    He waited, assuming she was momentarily stunned by the quick turn of events. He hoped he hadn't read the signals wrong. When he heard the sound of her wet clothes hitting the floor, he thought of Stewie from Family Guy; “Victory is mine, victory is mine” until she stepped into the shower, naked from the waist up, her lower half encased in skin tight, and now wet, spandex leggings.

    “Can you help me remove these, big boy?” she said in a husky voice, moving near him.

    Dropping to his knees, his fingers clutched at the clingy material and then dragged them downward, revealing dark brown hair and the hint of pink underneath.

    The first moan sounded, his right hand moving faster now, with more purpose, while his left hand moved between his legs and gently but firmly rubbed his balls.

    As he quickly contemplated his options, from running a finger between her legs to simply pulling her down to the floor and diving in face first, he felt her hands on his head, gently pulling him upward.

    Reluctant to leave her treasure trove unattended, he nevertheless complied and stood up, looking at an erect nipple along the way.

    She kissed him hard when his mouth was within reach, and he felt her hard nipples pressing against his chest. He also felt her thigh move gently between his legs, pressing against his erection.

    He felt her break the kiss, and upon opening his eyes, saw a smoldering passion within hers. She began sinking downward, her face kissing along his chest, her tongue flicking once against his nipple, her teeth lightly nipping at him on their southern journey.

    He first felt her hand grasp, and then it was her mouth, surrounding the head, drawing it inside, her tongue pressing up against the underside, causing him to gasp.

    He then felt her slide the majority of him into her mouth, and then sliding him out, her lips pressed tightly against him, her tongue a marvel of motion on the underside, moving, moving, moving.

    He knew it was coming, that warm, euphoric feeling starting deep within. Mere seconds away, he concentrated on the head now, short, fast strokes to maximize his remaining pleasure.

    He moaned, and felt her bobbing her head. There was no subtlety now. Just raw passion, her obvious desire to bring him to climax. He wanted to put it off, to extend this incredible feeling, but it was too soon in their sexuality to have that kind of control. For now it was simply a race to the finish line.

    And . . . the race was over. He took hold of her hair and held her in place as he shot off like an automatic rifle, firing shot after shot of warm spend into her mouth. She seemed to draw his life's essence out with her talented mouth.

    Releasing her hair, she rose up before him and he saw her smile, noticing a few drops of cum on her chin, adorning her face like tiny pearl buttons.

    Sensing this was a test, he kissed her, hard, on the mouth. She'd swallowed, he could tell, but there was still a slight taste of semen, which did nothing to calm his passion in the moment.

    Leaning against the shower wall, he looked down and watched as the water carried his semen toward the drain, his breathing slowing down now that he'd erupted into her mouth, at least in his fantasy.

    He felt a tinge of regret in using her this way, almost as if he felt he needed her permission first to do so, permission he knew he would never ask her for real.

    Laying down later in bed, he thought of her and how nice it had felt to just hold her in his arms.

    Later on he dreamed of her, standing at his doorway, dressed to kill, no hobo in sight, with her saying “You might be the man that my mama warned me about.”



    Chapter 3

    Rob sat back, sipping a beer from the bottle out by the pool, silently musing about the past few weeks with Carrie. His friend, Bill, a deputy sheriff, sat there with him, also with a beer in hand. They'd stopped at Chuffer's and picked up a large, extra cheese pizza with bacon and mild sausage, and each of them got a sub too. Rob had ordered a naked Reuben, while Bill went for the Texas Tenderloin. Both had finished off their subs and then devoured two large slices of pizza, plus a beer. This was beer number two for each.

    “So,” Bill said, looking casually at his beer bottle as if examining the label for the first time in his life, “your lady friend is pretty good-looking for a mutt like you, Coop.”

    Rob laughed. Bill served too; they spent a couple of years at Ft. Bragg together under JSOC, the Joint Special Operations Command. Both were doing classified work, though through different units. Rob was “just a Ranger” according to Bill, who Rob later found out was part of Seal Team Six. They'd stayed in touch after serving and when a deputy position opened up, Rob made the call.

    “Hey, careful now or I'll get you some work where your talents would really shine, like cleaning my pool.”

    They both laughed and clinked bottles, then sipped.

    “Yeah, she is good looking. Nice gal, too. And no, she's doesn't have a sister for you.”

    “So, you getting serious?” Rob saw that while Bill was looking around casual like, he was studying Rob, circling, sorta' like a great white shark with a sea lion.

    “That depends upon your definition of serious, bud,” was the non-committal reply.

    Bill looked at his best friend and then took another sip. “You haven't slept with her yet.” It wasn't a question, noted Rob. He remained non-committal.

    “I've heard the whisperings, the gossip. You're taking your time to show her respect.” He took another sip and finished off beer number two, then reached for a third from the ice chest, and got one for Rob too.

    “Good man.”

    Rob smiled a bit and just nodded, not trusting his voice due to the butterflies he felt in his stomach when thinking of her and him, together.

    The rest of the evening included discussions about major league baseball, the Spencerville baseball team, and whether the new librarian was someone that Bill should pursue.





    Rob really had enjoyed the past few weeks. He took Carrie to The Little Kozy on Third Street where they'd laughed over meatloaf with mashed potatoes, her asking if Levi's mom was in the back cooking the “smashed potatoes”. After dinner they went into Lima and saw Guardians of the Galaxy II. He was skeptical about it, but she really wanted to go, so he relented.

    He'd asked her bowling a couple of days later so they went to Lyn-Lee Lanes where he'd shown her his bowling prowess. She actually came close to beating him, much to his chagrin. Then later in the week they went to mini-golf just outside Van Wert. He won, but he wondered whether or not she missed that last critical putt on purpose. She claimed she didn't and he didn't press the issue.

    After golf they walked into the nearby arcade and she did beat him in skee-ball and air hockey. He did take it easy on her in air hockey, and then she scored some quick goals and he started to fight back but it was too late. He didn't care. As long as she continued to go out with him, he'd let her win at everything.

    He did have a potentially disastrous moment at the grocery store. She was in the fruits and vegetables section picking out some bananas, comparing sizes, and he was going to sneak up behind her when an older woman approached and asked her if she was “the woman who did porn.” Rob had froze in his tracks, unsure of what he should do.

    Making a split second decision, he backtracked into the bakery and partially hid behind a stack of ciabotta rolls, watching it play out. Carrie politely answered “No,” put the larger bananas in her cart, and continued “that isn't me anymore.” The woman started to say something else, but Carrie just moved on, not rudely, but as a matter of course. Rob was proud of her, and happy with her.

    Well, at least until she ripped him a new one about his office decorations. She had started bringing him meals she'd cooked for him when he had to work a couple of nights a week handling dispatch. Technically, as sheriff, he didn't have to do it, but he felt it was only fair to share the burden with the other employees.

    It was the first time that she'd visited and she tore into the place, calling his office “ugly”. It was a sheriff's office, he thought to himself, it doesn't need to look like some swanky Park Place office. Nevertheless he listened to her and talked and agreed.

    She bitched about the linoleum, the desk, even the plaid curtains took a few shots across the bow. Still, he went along with her plans. She talked about fixing up the place herself. Inwardly, he shrugged. Outwardly he applauded her efforts. It if made her happy, he was all in.

    So twice a week when he worked nights she'd stop by, bringing food and usually something to decorate; a rug, some plants, and, hells to the yes, some new curtains to replace those plaid curtains. He did have to admit the place looked nicer. He just hadn't given it a thought before her.



    Sunday dinner. He knew it was inevitable. He knew all about the tradition, having turned down invitation after invitation from townsfolk. It wasn't that he didn't like people. It wasn't that he didn't like the idea of home cooked meals. It was because if he did it for one, he was going to have to do it for all or word would get out that the sheriff was playing favorites, and that would never do.

    But with Carrie, well, he knew it'd be different. He knew of her parents, had actually semi-met them in town, but it wasn't as if he'd had any true conversations. But he knew that he would this coming Sunday.

    “Sunday dinner, huh?” he said as they were sitting on his sofa, kissing and touching, having finished watching a steamy R-rated movie.

    “Yes, Sunday dinner. It's a tradition, and I'd like you to meet my parents, unless you don't want to, which is fine, I don't mind I just think that since we've been going out for a month that it might be a nice idea unless you think that it is--” and Carrie stopped when she saw the big grin on his face.

    “What?” she asked.

    His eyes got that twinkly look that she adored. “You had me at Sunday dinner.”

    She giggled, and then leaned in for some more passionate kissing and felt his hand against her breast. She purposely moved a little bit to the left and right, making it seem like it was to enhance the kiss itself, but secretly, she liked the feel of her nipple passing left and right against his thumb.




    “Everything checked out, his credentials, the appointment, all of it. But, the Colonel, while insisting he was not intoxicated, could not explain his nudity.” Rob stopped and waited for it.

    “What did you do?” asked Carrie's dad. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, listening intently to the story. Rob liked him, and enjoyed the conversation through dinner, but he saw this as an ideal way to strike a bond with the former military man. Before the women had re-entered the room, Forrest had told Rob a quick story about how his commanding officer had once done inspection with a pair of panties sticking out of the bottom of his trousers. They'd roared and it gave Rob impetus to tell a story of his own.

    “I only had an hour left at post, and this was a high ranking guy. What do you think I did? I handed him back his ID, raised the gate, and snapped my best salute when he drove past!”

    He watched as Carrie's dad lost it, laughing and almost doubling over, seeing Carrie bringing in some kind of good looking dessert. Good smelling too, he thought.

    Her dad was easy to talk to, and their military bond was solid. But they veered off the military path and got into sports, and talked about cars, and even ventured into a brief but heated discussion about politics. Unlike his hippie wife, the old man was a solid Republican, just like Rob, and so they railed against the Democrats until his wife put an end to that conversation with a stern looked at her husband. They both smiled and saluted her and everyone laughed.

    When it was time to leave, after getting walked to the door, he turned straight toward the old First Sargent and said “It was really good to finally meet you, Top,” referring to the man by an affectionate nickname for a soldier with his rank. They shook hands, both with a solid grip, but neither trying to outdo the other. The older man leaned in a bit and whispered sotto voce, “I hope someday to hear about YOUR interesting missions,” with a wink. Rob just smiled.

    “Your parents are great. I can see how much they love you,” he said, getting into the Corvette and starting it up after having opened the door for her. As the Chevy 454 rumbled to life, she replied.

    “I think that is the first time he has called me 'Kiddo' since I left for California, and I could count the times he has hugged me since then on two hands . . . .” She then reached over and gave Rob's leg a squeeze, and he felt the first twitches of an erection starting, such was his desire for her.

    He put the top down, then eased out of the driveway and on down the road. He'd promised the Greeley's that he'd stop by their horse farm on Sunday to answer a few questions they'd had about purchasing security cameras. When he'd mentioned this to Carrie, and said that they'd offered to let him take one of their Arabians out for a ride, she'd asked if she could tag along and maybe go for a ride too.

    Rob drove with his left hand, reaching over with his right and holding her hand in his as they made the ten-minute drive to the farm. Life was good, he thought.



    Rob stood in the small alcove, waiting on his girlfriend. He'd stopped by to get some of the salve from Carrie's mom as his knee was acting up a bit, but first walked up the steps to Carrie's apartment. She hadn't invited him there since the first night that they'd met and he thought it was because that'd been kinda' awkward. So, he'd dropped by, casually, to remedy that.

    But now, after waiting over a minute from her saying to hold on that she'd be right there, and hearing some rattling sounds and other scurrying, he began to have second thoughts. Just as he was thinking of calling out and saying that he'd forgotten something at the office, the door opened.

    Damn butterflies again, he thought, and saw her smiling weakly. “Hi, I'm so glad you stopped by.”

    Rob's bullshit detector sounded loud and clear. Ut oh. He hugged her. This probably wasn't a good idea. I'll just make a cursory look around and then skedaddle out of here.

    “I was thinking about going to the antique store to find a bookcase to go with my desk, and I thought you might like to come along. Besides, I have never seen your apartment.”

    He looked around and noticed the brassiere that hung from the ceiling fan, spinning lazily in the afternoon breeze from the open, second-story window. It was a sexy bra to be sure, black lace, see-through, and for a moment he wondered what she'd look—and then he saw IT.

    Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her color go from normal to hot pink in a flash, and it took his training as a ranger to not break ranks and laugh. Her dildo sat in the middle of her comforter like a purple exclamation point to her embarrassment, no doubt.

    In a save worthy of Oscar consideration, he continued looking around the apartment, secretly wishing that he could break out his exclamation point for her.

    “Sure! I would need a few minutes to . . . .”

    “Yeah, sure.” He wasn't sure his poker face was one hundred percent in place, so he thought it best to leave to save her some face. He managed a smile. “I haven't even been downstairs. I'll talk to your mom and meet you after I have my stuff taken are of.” He saw her nod and he stepped back into the alcove and turned.

    Walking down the steps, he grinned. At least she didn't have one of those huge, oversized black ones, he thought. Now THAT would have been really awkward. Well, at least her past hasn't jaded her sexuality. He'd wondered about that, about whether she'd be able to resume a normal sex life.

    He had a ten minute conversation with Jenny, Carrie's mom, first about his knee, and then about their plans. He told her where he was going to take Carrie, and Jenny thought that her daughter would love it there.

    When Carrie arrived, Jenny looked at the two of them and how they interacted. They're just like peas and carrots, she mused.

    Rob tried to take any awkwardness out of the upstairs fiasco by telling her about the antiques shop and she seemed excited by the prospect of them finding a bookcase.

    As Rob went down one aisle toward the furniture, he saw that Carrie had hung back and was looking at some clothing.

    There were a few bookcases to choose from, and he studied them a bit from a structural point of view. He saw the shop owner, an elderly woman of about 70, heading toward Carrie seemingly with purpose. Curious, he made his way up another aisle, wondering if this was going to be yet another awkward moment for Carrie. Despite his typically commanding presence, his Army Ranger training taught him how to be stealthy when needed.

    To his relief, he heard the lady talking to Carrie about a corset. Rob thought it looked nice with the pearl buttons. As he was about to withdraw, he heard Carrie.

    “I bet you looked great in it. I just can't afford something this beautiful right now.”

    Rob smiled, and got an idea. He moved back to the furniture section and waited for Carrie to catch up. A few minutes later she found him and they continued looking around the large country store.

    “Don’t you think this candelabra would go great in the store?” Rob had been waiting for her to come over to him so he could put his plan into action. He pulled his iPhone out and pretended to swipe at it, and while putting the phone up to his ear, said to her, “Yeah. You should get it. I have to take this, but I'll be right back,” and then he walked toward the front of the store, talking to no one on his phone.

    When he got near the front he passed by the store owner and whispered to her “please come with me”, and she paused, then followed. Out of sight of Carrie, he saw the partially concerned look on the lady's face.

    “No, no, everything's fine, I just need your help.” He explained to her what he wanted, and the elderly woman smiled warmly and winked at him. Rob smiled back and fished the Visa card out of his wallet and gave it to her.

    Putting his phone back up to his ear, he moved more toward the center of the store, saw that Carrie could see him if she looked that way, and pretended to talk on the phone for the next five or so minutes. When he saw the lady leave and then come back into the store, he made his way back up front, and with the skill of a master spy, she passed the credit card back to him in a classic brush pass maneuver. He pocketed the plastic and put his phone away, now ready to rejoin Carrie.

    They spent another hour or so shopping and he was happy to have found a bookcase that closely matched the nice desk that she had given him to replace what she had called “that horrid box-shaped pile of soon-to-be firewood”. He made arrangements to pick it up when he had the truck.

    Carrie had purchased the inexpensive candelabra and a pretty, pearl cameo brooch. Rob smiled at the irony of her purchasing something made of pearl.

    Like clockwork, when they arrived at the car, there was a package on the passenger seat. Rob saw Carrie look at it, and he was careful not to do so, instead putting the candelabra into the small rear cargo space.

    “Robbie?” He furrowed his brow a bit. My sister calls me Robbie, ugh. “What is this?” asked Carrie.

    Closing what was the trunk, only smaller, he looked at the package, thought the lady did a nice job of wrapping it quickly, and shrugged. “I was with you . . . what would I know?”

    He watched with glee as Carrie unwrapped it and heard her intake of breath as she saw it.

    “Oh no! You shouldn’t have!”

    Rob waited. He knew more was coming.

    “Oh My God! I love it! It’s too much! You really shouldn’t have.”

    He smiled and started the car, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road back toward town. He felt Carrie snake her hand into his.

    “I saw the way you were looking at it, and I couldn’t resist. I’m sure it will look great on you.”

    After a moment of looking at it, Carrie closed the box, set it carefully behind her seat, making sure it was secure and wouldn't blow out on the way back, and then rested her head on his shoulder.

    Rob's eyes looked toward her when she did this, and he caught a glimpse of her right breast from that angle, and saw a flash of black lace. She's wearing the sexy one, he thought.

    As he once again felt himself starting to get hard, he thought of how much he wanted to take her, to possess her, to pull off her clothes and make her see fireworks. He loved touching her breasts those few times, but held himself in check, not wanting to push things. When she'd rubbed his crotch during that one particularly hot and heavy make out session he thought he was going to cum in his pants.

    I think we need to talk, he thought. Soon.





    Chapter 4

    “Hey babe, I'm glad you liked dinner. When I said I'd make Italian, I'd hoped you'd be okay with chicken alfredo versus the traditional red sauce. I mean, I love red sauce, but alfredo cooked from scratch, mmmmmmmmm good, ya' know?”

    Rob was looking over at her as he finished his piece of garlic bread. He was mildly concerned. Carrie just didn't seem to be herself tonight. At first he wondered if it was the food choice, but no, she seemed to really like the alfredo. Still, it was like she was . . . distracted. Ah, Rob thought, maybe she got her period. That could explain it.

    “I'm gonna' clear these dishes.” He stood up, saw there was some garlic bread leftover, but noticed she was making signs to get up. “No no . . . I got them this time. You finish up the garlic bread. I hope it wasn't too cheesy.”

    Rob wasn't sure what to do next. He wanted to spend more time with her, but maybe she either wanted or needed to cut the evening short. Well, let me try something, he thought. If she wants to cut out early, she can just say so.

    “Can anything ever be too cheesy? It was all so delicious! Thank you.”

    As he rinsed and then placed the dinnerware into the dishwasher, he said, looking over at her, “So, any idea what you'd like to do tonight? Watch a movie? Or do you wanna' go out, maybe out 197 to St. Mary's River, you know, we could even fish a bit if you wanted.”

    He saw that she had that pensive look again about her. He was about to ask her what was on her mind, perhaps even use the “Penny for your thoughts?” cliché.

    “Do you think maybe . . . would it be okay . . . if we just sat and talked?”

    Balls, he thought. Now I get it. “It's been fun, but, I don't wanna' get too serious” and all that. He'd heard it before, and bet that that was what was gonna' happen next.

    He walked over from the sink, drying his hands on a dish towel, then sat down across from her again. Figuring it might be the last time that he did so, he reached across the table and took her hands into his. His confidence level was shrinking, but remembering his lessons from the war, he gutted it out, and put on a good face.

    “Sure! I like talking with you! Whatcha' have in mind?” He painted a smile on his face, and saw Carrie take a deep breath.

    “These past seven weeks have been great. You have done so much for me that I can't even begin to thank you. That night we met, that was the first time I had been out in public for six months.”

    Rob nodded and squeezed her hands gently in acknowledgement.

    “You have made me start living my life again, and your friendship means so much to me.”

    Rob felt the blood in his body turn ice cold. FRIENDSHIP. There it was, he thought. The single word that topples relationships.

    In order to keep the smile from fading, he had to speak.

    “Babe, it means a lot to me too. I never expected to find someone here in town, I mean, really, when you look around . . . you know what I mean. Nice people, still. And then I found you.”

    And now she looks confused. What the fuck? Maybe she's just trying to be sweet, fuck if I know, he thought more to himself.

    “This might sound strange, but I'm not really sure what it is we are doing.”

    Rob looked at her, with no clue whatsoever on what to think. Women, he mused to himself, are so fucking confusing! Christ on a crutch. He was ready to simply ask “What are you trying to say? Spit it out!” but she spoke again.

    “You know that I have baggage, that I am an emotional wreck. I just need to know, you know, for myself . . . what it is we are doing.”

    He was ready to respond with “finishing dinner” but paused because she now looked scared, and that really puzzled him.

    “Do you find me attractive?”

    There are times in each person's life when statements are made that “come out of left field”, meaning totally unexpected. This was one of those times in Rob's life. He was stunned.

    “What-t-t-t?” He stuttered, and his voice cracked a bit, almost like he was re-entering puberty. “Are you kidding?”

    Rob looked at her, from her face, to her breasts, then back up to her face. If he had a piece of paper and a pen, he would have written “11” on it and displayed it like an Olympic judge.

    He saw her sigh, and then laugh with a smile. “I'm not going to say that isn't nice to hear.” And then he saw her expression turn serious again.

    “Does my past bother you? Is it something that you can't deal with?”

    Ut oh. Danger Will Robinson, Danger, Danger! He thought to himself, once again thinking of the old 1960's show Lost in Space and the robot waving his mechanical arms around silly-like.

    “Your past? Um. Look. Let me be honest, ok? Honesty is probably something that you want to hear right now, at least I hope so, and keep in mind that this isn't easy for me to say.”

    What he wanted to say, “Well, knowing that you probably sucked 500 guys' cocks isn't something that I really want to dwell on with my thinking”, came out as something different. He stood up and paced around a bit, thinking as quickly on his feet as he had in Afghanistan when taking enemy fire.

    “I can deal with your past, but, I'm a little bit intimidated, I'll admit. I mean, I've seen a few of those movies, of course . . . I mean, nothing with you in it.” He looked away from her. “But, well, some of those guys are, um, kinda' well endowed, and I just wonder if I would, well, you know, be good enough for you because they're so much more experienced and stuff.” When he finished, he standing behind his chair, gripping it.

    It was a speech, a performance, that could have earned him an Oscar. He really liked Carrie, and hoped that this would satisfy her.

    “Oh God! If you only knew!” She looked somewhat relieved.

    “You want honesty, well here goes. Those scenes aren't any fun to do. The lights are hot, there are people walking around, the director is shouting things that are sometimes physically impossible to do, and you are with a virtual stranger, trying hard not to think about what it is you are doing.”

    He nodded, not wanting to interrupt.

    “Nothing,” Carrie looked straight into Rob’s eyes, “and I mean nothing, would ever come close to the feeling of when it is real. When there is love.”

    Rob thought now that he knew where this was going, and he liked the direction.

    "Huh. Didn't know that. I mean, some of the girls sure seem to . . . well . . . like it a lot."

    "You can't tell by watching, but some of the best acting in movies is done in the adult industry." He watched her laugh. “We are the ones who should be getting the Oscars!”

    Rob started pacing again, if only to keep her from seeing the grin on his face at her saying the word “Oscars”. He got control quickly and moved the conversation along.

    “And I haven't, you know, pushed anything between us, well, because of your past. I just didn't want you thinking that because I knew, I thought you were . . . easy. I respect you too much for that, Carrie.” It looked like she was getting what he said.

    And that was true. Rob respected her for having the guts to come back to small town America and try and re-establish a normal life for herself. He knew that was a tough road to hoe. So, he'd taken the whole sex thing very, very slow.

    “You have never treated me with anything short of absolute respect. It is the thing that draws me to you.” He smiled at that.

    "I really like you a lot. I'm seeing no one else, and only have a desire to be with you," replied Rob.

    He could see that his words were having a positive affect on her. Still, there seemed to be a bit more.

    “So I have to ask. We see each other everyday, you aren't seeing anyone else, and you like me a lot . . . is it your job?”

    He was puzzled.

    “You will be up for re-election, would being with me hurt your future?”

    “Is it . . . ah . . . what's 'it'?”

    Now Rob was puzzled. Then it struck him. She's referring to some small town code of honor.

    “I don't understand. People have seen us together. You know that. And quite honestly, if anyone has a problem with me being with you, they can kiss my law enforcement officer ass.”

    He continued.

    “Do you mean, why haven't I invited you to stay overnight? If that's it, I told you, I wanted to go slow, to make sure you know I respect you. It's not that I'm not interested. Christ, you're so damn sexy I just wanna' . . .” he stopped there, but in his mind he continued “. . . dive right in and find my own dessert.

    He heard her laugh, and felt good about that.

    “Staying the night is part of it I guess. I have thought about falling asleep with your arms around me many times.”

    Whoa, he thought, now that took me by surprise. And then Rob had the thought of her thinking about him, in bed, with the purple toy.

    “Robbie, I want you. I thought that was obvious. I don't mind waiting, but I want to know if that is where things are heading. I'm wondering why you haven't tried to . . .” Her embarrassment surprised her.

    “Why we have never slept together.”

    He thought for a moment. My words aren't exactly cutting it. Well, I wasn't planning on doing this so soon, but, maybe this will help. He held his hand out to her, beckoning her to stand up.

    “Come here, please, come with me.”

    She did, and he led her into the living room and then had her sit on the sofa. She didn't look happy again.

    “Be right back.” He wanted to tell her that he really needed more practice, that he'd played guitar years ago, and just recently started picking it up again.

    When he returned, she appeared to be close to tears, like she was going to bolt.

    “Please . . . I have to get this out...I know it is early, probably too early, but I'm going to say it anyways . . . ." Rob started to play the guitar.

    I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy.
    I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need.
    I love you more with every breath, truly madly deeply do.
    I will be strong, I will be faithful 'cause I'm counting on a new beginning.
    A reason for living. A deeper meaning.

    I want to stand with you on a mountain.
    I want to bathe with you in the sea.
    I want to lay with you forever.
    Until old age comes down to get me.

    He stopped. He knew it wasn't his best performance as he'd hit a few bad keys, but still, it had come from his heart. Surely she could see that, he thought.

    "I think I'm falling in love with you." It sounded sweet coming from her lips.

    Rob just stared, watching her take a deep breath.

    “Like my hero Julia Roberts might say . . . I'm just a porn star, standing in front of the sheriff, asking to be loved.”

    Rob laughed. He knew it wasn't the moment for laughter, but what she said was hilarious.

    “I'm not laughing . . .” he wanted to say “at you” but didn't get those words out as his laughter increased in intensity. He saw her cringe a bit and so he curbed his enthusiasm.

    “I do love you, Carrie. And, I do want to make love to you. Please stay the night?”

    Carrie stood and moved into his arms. With the guitar partly in the way it made it a little bit problematic, so Rob swung it out of the way. He felt her move in close and hold him tight. He knew he was hard, and wondered if she felt it.

    "No reason to say please, I thought you might never ask."



    Chapter 5

    Rob leaned in and passionately kissed Carrie. His tongue danced with hers, and he lightly bit her lip, his arms encircling her and lifting her completely off the floor.

    He felt Carrie put her hand behind his head. He could tell she was warming up, her kisses becoming more fiery. He felt her wrap her legs around him, and he was now sure that she could feel his cock. He couldn't wait to be inside her.

    Carrie bit his neck then played with his ear with her tongue and teeth and finally her breath.

    “I have wanted this for so long.” She tickled his ear with her tongue. “Take me to bed and make love to me Robbie.”

    Rob didn't need to be asked twice. He led Carrie into his bedroom, and once inside, pulled her close again. He reached down, grabbed her ass, and lifted her up against him. This time he was positive she felt his cock as it was now pressed up against her crotch. Once again they were kissing and her hands were all about his head. And then she started to grind against him, causing Rob to moan.

    The kissing continued, then Rob felt he'd waited long enough. He put her down and started to work on the buttons on her blouse, her eyes and smile granting him approval to do so. With three undone, Rob kissed her neck and chest, then took care of the rest of the buttons.

    His kissing resumed, the exposed part of her breast, between the two of them, down her stomach, and then finally removing her shirt while nipping at her neck.

    Next he moved to her slacks, opening the clasps without rushing, then slowly lowered them to the floor, a lick above her underwear, a promise of more tongue to come.

    Standing, he looked at Carrie with admiration and lust, her standing before him in just her underwear. She was, in a word, stunning.

    “Wow. You are like Venus, revealed.” He took her over to the bed.

    “Please . . . lay down.” He guided her onto her belly, moving a pillow under her head. Taking a small bottle off the nightstand, he put some of the heating massage oil onto his hands, then rubbed them together.

    “I think you will like this. I know that I will.”

    Rob sat and started massaging Carrie's shoulders and the upper part of her back. Then he moved down one arm, then back up, and repeated it with the other arm. He knew that the liquid would feel warm against her skin.

    Reaching the middle of her back, he unhooked her bra then touched the side of her body, hoping she would take the hint.

    She did, first lifting up and then cooperating with her arms so that he could pull the bra off and away. Then she surprised him by sitting somewhat up and turning toward him, giving Rob a full-on view of her breasts.

    Rob felt a lump form in his throat. Damn, he thought, looking at her hard nipples, and how her breasts hung perfectly, waiting is killing me.

    He encouraged her to lay back down and continued the massage, moving down her back, then continuing down one leg, and then up the other leg.

    Now or never, he thought.

    Rob took hold of her underwear and began pulling them down. He felt Carrie's consent as she lifted up, allowing him to slide them down her legs and off.

    Rob continued to massage her legs, but his eyes were focused between her legs. From his angle, he could see a little of her pussy lips, and he felt himself get just a little bit harder.

    He knew he was teasing her, massaging her butt, thinking that it was pretty damn perfect in size and shape. As he was massaging her inner thigh, he let his hand travel up until he felt her lips against his finger. He paused, just for a brief second, hearing her sigh, and then moved back to her butt, then her lower back.

    He shifted a bit on the bed, leaning forward, and started kissing her, first her shoulder, then her back, then both butt cheeks, and finally he started kissing down a leg.

    Carrie had endured all the teasing she could, and just rolled over onto her back, Rob seeing her fully naked for the very first time.

    All thoughts of five hundred guys before him vanished. He loved this woman, and, crazily enough, she loved him. To top it off, he thought, she's got one fuckin' smokin' hot body too.

    “God, you are so beautiful,” he said, looking her up and down from head to toe. She smiled sexily at him.

    Rob would wait no longer. He moved his head down and kissed first the inside of her left thigh, and then her right thigh, as Carrie opened her legs wider.

    Revealing paradise, thought Rob, looking at her darker coral outer lips, parted, revealing the pink inner lips. He could see that she was very wet, and when he inhaled, there was a just a light almost citrus scent. At the top he saw her clit, slightly engorged from desire, and finally a dark brown, well-trimmed triangle of hair. He took a mental snapshot of this, and forever nicknamed it “Heaven” in his mind.

    Moving in, he tasted Carrie for the first time, and he thought that she tasted as good as she looked. First he circled all around her opening, licking the entire length of her outer lips. Then he pressed his mouth harder against her, encircling her opening, and wiggling his tongue inside, as deep as it could go.

    He could tell his efforts were working. He felt her thighs gyrate just a little bit, he heard her whimper, and then he felt her hands on his head, rubbing it.

    Rob opted to amp it up a notch. He licked her inner and then outer lips again. His beard rubbed against the bottom of her pussy and was wet now. He didn't care. He had a destination in mind. Planet Clit.

    As his tongue found it and licked it, he heard Carrie cry out with pleasure. Her legs squirmed more, and the rubbing of his head, her encouragement, was increased.

    Rob began alternately sucking hard, his lips surrounding her clit, and releasing it, and licking it again and again. He pushed his hands underneath her, grabbing hold of her ass, making sure she didn't accidentally squirm away. He was determined to bring her to orgasm.

    He felt Carrie move one of her feet under him. He felt the foot move up against his cock, and she began sliding it back and forth, an attempt to pleasure him. It worked.

    As Rob moaned, it reverberated through her sex. He sucked at her clitoral hood, then licked it at the same time. It drew the response he expected.

    “Ohhh, ahhhhh! Right there! Right there! Don't stop!”

    Rob didn't stop. Wild horses couldn't drag him away. He continued lashing at her clit and sucking. He could feel her legs muscles tightening, feel her foot stop rubbing his crotch, and hear her breathing increase.

    He felt her come; it was very, very obvious. Her legs clamped tightly against the sides of his head and she started vibrating, and getting very wet. He didn't stop, licking away, wanting to prolong her orgasm, prolong her pleasure. Again and again her body rocked back and forth, her moaning an aural candy to his ears.

    Finally, her body slumped, her legs released him, and her moans subsided. Rob crawled up to lay next to her. In a moment she leaned toward him for a long, wet kiss, tasting herself on his lips and tongue. Though she had just come, he saw that her nipples were still hard, and there was lust in her eyes.

    “Oh my! You had that talent for all this time, and you are just now letting me see it?” Carrie kissed Rob again, then reached for his shirt and started to pull. “Now it's my turn.”

    Carrie removed his shirt, then kissed down his chest, nibbling her way to his pants. She quickly dispatched both those and his boxers, allowing his cock to spring free.

    She'd wondered what it would look like. Not that it really mattered. She loved the man, not what he would have between his legs. But still, she was curious, and now that she saw it, she smiled up at him.

    “You had nothing to be worried about.” Then she sucked him inside her mouth, her eyes glued to his. She took the head in, using her tongue to wet it, then she stroked his shaft a bit with her hand.

    Christ that feels good, he thought. I wonder what else she can do?

    He saw and felt her taking him deeper, then let go with her hand, just using her mouth. Rob watched as his entire cock disappeared inside her mouth!

    Holy shit! Then he felt her releasing him, slowly, licking his shaft, and moving her mouth around him. When only the tip was left inside, she held it there with her teeth, lightly grasping it, flicking her tongue back and forth.

    Still looking at Rob, she suddenly dove forward, taking him balls deep once again. She created suction around his cock, sucking outward, as if she were a pump, trying to suck the cum from his balls. She dove forward again, and then sucked back out, again and again. During this, she reached around and grabbed his ass, squeezing.

    Rob watched as she continued to deep throat him, simply amazed. I'm gonna' nut in her mouth if she keeps this up too much longer, he thought.

    Almost as if reading his mind, Carrie released him from her mouth and gave the tip a kiss.

    Then, with a mischievous look in her eye, she took him in deep again, and, she started to purr, like a cat.

    “God Carrie! That feels amazing!” Rob gripped the sheets and tried to distract himself by thinking of anything to keep him from shooting off. Lawn mowing tomorrow! Yeah, the lawn mower . . . shit, the lawn mower is purring like a cat! Ahhhhhhhhhh!

    Rob felt her hand slip between his legs and start playing with his balls. Oh Christ, I'm gonna' fill her mouth! Come on, Rob! Hold it!

    Carrie was back and forth, wanting to taste his cum, and wanting him inside her. The latter won out, so she teased him a bit more, and then stopped, applying a last lick and kiss to the head of his cock, and then moved up next to him on the bed.

    The look on Rob's face was that of a wounded animal, but then she kissed him, and the passion that emanated from that bed was almost palpable.

    Rob got on top of Carrie, between her legs, and kissed her once more, biting her lip. Leaning back so that he was vertical to her horizontal, he took his cock and slid it through her pussy hair and into her slit, up and down to add Carrie's wetness to his cock, already wet from her mouth.

    He felt her shiver. Their eyes were locked, and then Rob slid inside of her, slowly, wanting to savor the first feel of entering this beautiful creature that he loved. Then, when halfway in, he slid forward, balls deep, and closed his eyes. That feels so fucking good.

    Rob lay down on her body, feeling her tits against his chest, her nipples like little nails. He withdrew part way, and then sunk deep again. Then pulled out further, and again, all the way inside. Then he pulled out until just the tip was inside, and then once again sunk deep.

    Now he had a rhythm, moving at a nice pace, his body having spread her legs enough so that he could get deep inside. He moved his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth, nipping it and hearing her sigh, then licking away the slight sting of the bite. Hearing her moan reminded him of something he wanted to do.

    He pulled out and, hearing a sound of disappointment come from her at the withdrawal, quickly moved down between her legs and attacked her clit with his mouth and tongue, sucking at the engorged nub and licking it furiously. He heard her moan loudly, so he increased his effort, and felt it drive her crazy if her leg movements were any indication.

    "Ohhhhh God! Please Rob . . . ohhhh . . . please . . . back inside me!"

    Rob moved up and sunk balls deep once again and heard her moan. Then she felt him slip his arms under her, and in one quick movement, he whirled her around on top of him.

    “Ride me.” It didn't come across as a request, yet he saw her smile and start moving up and down on his shaft.

    Rob took hold of her breasts, capturing the nipples with his thumbs and forefingers, rolling them gently at first. He felt Carrie's hands on his shoulders for balance as she started riding him harder and faster.

    Oh, I'm gonna' cum deep inside her, he thought. He started pinching her nipples lightly, hearing her moan and feeling her pounding her pussy down harder against him. He started to moan himself.

    "Rob oh god! Robbie . . . I'm gonna' come,” said Carrie. Rob felt her digging her fingers into his shoulders. “Come with me, I want you to cum inside me hon. Do it . . . come nowwwwww!”

    Rob thrust up on her down thrust and watched as Carrie threw her head back, her orgasm starting. Rob felt her get really wet and he let loose, shooting his cum deep inside her. He felt her pussy convulsing around his cock and it was the best feeling in the world.

    Slowly their body movements subsided. Carrie collapsed on top of Rob, kissing him. She eventually moved off of him and he slipped out of her. He felt her cuddle up next to him.

    Okay, so, the woman I have fallen in love with just gave me the fuck of the century. What did I ever do to deserve her?

    He kissed her hand and whispered, “I love you, Carrie.”

    “I love you too, babe.”

    Rob was lost in thought when Carrie broke the silence.

    “Did you really never look at any of my movies online? I would be dying of curiosity."

    Rob heard in the background the Robinson's robot yelling “Danger! Danger!” once again, but, not with such alarm as before. He found himself looking at the ceiling, then looked down to answer her.

    “Well . . . I might have peeked at one.”

    She laughed, and he instantly felt better.

    “It might have been more than once.”

    “Robbie!” She smacked his arm lightly, and then kissed him.

    "It was all in the name of law enforcement. I have to know what threats are coming into my town." They both smiled at that.

    Carrie put her head on his chest. He heard her say, “That is my past, it's over and gone. You are stuck with me now. You are my second chance.”

    Rob thought about that, and about how lucky he was. As he looked at her naked body, he felt a stirring between his legs. Speaking of second chances, I'm ready for round two, he thought, smiled, and started to turn toward the love of his life.
     
  2. God

    God Administrator Staff Member

  3. 1 Toy Maker

    1 Toy Maker Well-Known Member

    Well thought out well written well everything, a very very good staory
     
  4. Redbeard1031

    Redbeard1031 Well-Known Member

    I have a feeling that this CAW is going to be one of the best yet. Another fantastic story with more to go. My reading this March will be totally enjoyable. Thanks for your submission.
     
  5. 1 Toy Maker

    1 Toy Maker Well-Known Member

    Hum hum hum! I see what you did there. Really amazing.
     
  6. Stealth Eagle

    Stealth Eagle Well-Known Member

    I have read both versions and I think it is great coming at it from both points of view. Again there were some small errors but they did not detract from the story.
    Thank you for writing.
     
  7. ahorsewithnoname

    ahorsewithnoname Author & Admin. Live. Love. Write! Win a Pulitzer! Staff Member

    Great job. Obviously a lot of work went into this, and it shows.
     
  8. bistander

    bistander Well-Known Member

    Loved how you got the words and phrases in there. Nice Billy Joel reference. Very long, but good all the way through. Tons of details.
    I'm sure that now that it's posted you noticed the typos, so I won't bother trying to point them out.

    Thanks for the work you put in.
     
  9. Little Miss K

    Little Miss K Naughty but Nice

    Wow! I really love this one. :)

    First I will say it is very interesting being able to see a story from both sides. It was done very well, and even the dialog synced up near perfect.

    I was drawn in by the characers, and felt a lot of instances of real emotion. The sex was lovely. Very sexy. I'm glad it didn't turn into "porn sex". :rolleyes:

    There were some mistakes, but in a story this long, there weren't all that many.

    Speaking about long... This one was. :confused: I don't know what could be cut out, but it might be better if it was just a bit shorter.

    I am going to copy and paste this into the the other one. :)
     
  10. Jeymar

    Jeymar Dean of the Perverts

    I'll read the other "Second chances" before making any comment. Good luck in the polls.
     
  11. HCB0414

    HCB0414 Well-Known Member

    Well I do believe I know the group who wrote this. I could be very wrong, and if I am I look forward to seeing who wrote these two "Second Chances."

    A lot of work went into these stories. I am at a loss for words to describe them. Very well done!

    Thank you and good luck!
     
  12. Missrachael

    Missrachael Queen of Cheshire

    Having read the first version, I understand WHAT this version is but I don't understand WHY!

    All of the other side would have been better served within the first part, otherwise is just becomes repetitive. I confess, I stopped reading halfway through this second one and if they are to be judged as a pair, the repetition detracts from the initial powerful story. I thoroughly enjoyed the story from the girl's POV and didn't feel that I was missing anything . Sorry, but honesty sometimes sucks.
     
  13. ejls

    ejls Moderator Staff Member

    It takes a very talented person to write two versions of the same story. My hat is off to you; I never would have attempted this. You've really have added to making this a difficult voting decision.
     
  14. Uncle B

    Uncle B Well-Known Member

    A story from two writers, that includes both view points is unique. I have never seen it in a CAW before.

    Personally, I think it is a very original type of story. To see the difference of perspective is very interesting. I would have enjoyed some more comments on the differences, rather than complaints about how they were the same. I think it was a well done experiment, but I see that there are some that didn't enjoy it at all. To each his own. I applaud the originality.

    I saw 15 uses from all three lists. Well done.

    Great story that used the words and phrases in a way that incorporated them without pause was praiseworthy.
     
  15. 1 Toy Maker

    1 Toy Maker Well-Known Member

    Well played.
    I didn't pick you for writing this at all.
     
  16. ahorsewithnoname

    ahorsewithnoname Author & Admin. Live. Love. Write! Win a Pulitzer! Staff Member

    My take:

    I don't write for the lowest common denominator. I'm not going to shortchange X% of the readers to accommodate slow reading, ADD, or anything else that doesn't fit into the mainstream. I don't believe that's in an author's best interest. I write to my level of understanding, comprehension, reading level, intelligence, and so forth. If the task were to write so that, I don't know, fifth-graders could understand, then I would adjust my writing and try and hit that level dead on. But that wasn't the task. The task wasn't to write a story that was 4,257 words, or 8,835 words, or 1,000 words. It was to write a complete story. I did that, and so did Little Miss K.

    This wasn't a single story. It was two stories about the exact same period in life, about two people who had completely different thought processes about the same events. To me, that's a fascinating look into the world of human behavior. What was replicated was the dialog. That's all. And it had to be, otherwise it would have lost the connection. Two people (the man and woman) would obviously have different points of view, but when recording the events, there could only be one set of dialog. Little Miss K had input into my side of the story, and I had input into hers. It was pretty cool how we did this. She would write a chapter, and then send it to me. I would take that chapter and write it from the guy's POV, and then I'd write the next chapter and send that to her. Then she'd write the companion chapter to what I wrote, and she'd write a new chapter, and so on. As we wrote we'd look to tie in to something that the other person mentioned.

    Could we have combined this into one story? I suppose, but it would not have had nearly the impact as it did this way. Obviously some people liked it or we wouldn't have won. Some people didn't like it so much. That's not a tragedy. I'm pretty sure that every book ever written had at least one person who put it down and said they didn't like it.

    I'm sorry this was lost on some of you. I believe you missed out on a great story. But hey, at least you read what Little Miss K wrote, so there's always that. What I do find kind of ironic is that bistander bitterly complains about when some of the people here don't read the stories that he toils on for long periods of time, yet, that's exactly what he did to my story. ::: shrug :::

    You are, of course, entitled to your opinions, and they are valid, just as I am entitled to mine. My job is also not to look at the readership of this site and try and write a story that I believe will fit each person's niche. Little Miss K and I wrote the best story that we could write, without word constraint, without worry, period.
     
    bistander likes this.
  17. 1 Toy Maker

    1 Toy Maker Well-Known Member

    One question.
    If this wasn't a single story but two separate stories, why did we have to vote for it as one?
     
  18. bestoneyet

    bestoneyet Member

    Wow...both stories are amazing, kind of like life...lol. One story with 2 versions a his and hers. The thought process that each one of you took was played out by your gender. They were a wee bit long, even then I still couldn't put it down till I finished both stories.