Your best bet is to find a no-tell motel that offers hourly accommodations, easily found on the net. A day-use can be an enclosed compound of cabins or rooms that is, as a rule, inconspicuous and charges on an hourly basis. Obviously, they offer the privacy that most hotels can’t offer. Call beforehand to check out rates and ask openly about their privacy policies.

· Many day-use places have cameras that survey the outside walks and parking areas. This isn’t a bad thing! Before leaving the room, call the front desk and they will tell you to wait if someone is coming out of another room or if someone is in the parking area. This gives you another shot at absolute privacy.

· Find a place where you don’t even have to go to a front desk area to “check-in” or “check-out.” They may tell you to leave your money in a box outside the door of the cabin, as the manager will pick up the money after you have gone inside. There will be no need to ask for a key as it is already in the door, for you to lock from the inside. Again, total privacy.

· Never, ever, use your real names when reserving a room.

· Reputable day-use places will only accept cash. Credit card and check transactions only lead to enraged spouses storming their offices holding bank statements in their hand. You can only use cold cash. (Later, see Chapter 6, “Money Matters”)

· There should be individual and concealed parking spots just next to your cabin or room. If this isn’t possible, choose a day-use where there’s safe, off-the- main street parking. Never let your car be seen in front: even ones that are off the beaten track. Wherever you park, make sure it’s legal. If you get a ticket, the time, date and street address will be printed on it! Spring for a garage and then throw away the receipt once you leave.

·

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This isn’t a joke. Unless your lover is single and lives alone, you’ll have nowhere to go! Fooling around in the back seat of a car can be fun and exciting in the beginning, but after a while, it feels sleazy and you will resent it.

Before you find a decent place to meet, you may only be able to share a few short moments together in some place off the beaten path. Do your best to stay away from areas that are unfamiliar to you, yet be on the lookout for safe, deserted fields or sites that could fit the bill. But check them out before going there at night.

• Never bring your lover to your home for any reason, unless you are unattached.

• Never go to your lover’s home unless they are completely free from all ties. If their ‘other half’ catches you together, chances are the irate mate will call your other half out of spite.

Wherever your rendezvous takes place, do your best to drive in two separate cars. If seen, you’ll never be able to explain why you were in a strange person’s car.

Using two cars also gives both of you the means to leave quickly, if one of you suddenly has to go home.

If either of you forgets something in the other’s car, such as keys or underwear, forget about it! You’ll get caught. Remember that strands of your lover’s hair can be found on the headrest. You would be surprised at the odd things that can be left behind, things that you may not even notice, but your partner may.

In short, take two cars and find a reputable day-use as quickly as possible.

True Story:

A friend and her lover found a supposedly empty field and drove there in the dark. They made frantic love outside in the open. When it was over, she turned and found a horse staring at her in the face. She almost had a stroke from the shock. Examine your chosen out-of-the-way spots in the light of day before planning your rendezvous.

https://www.laurentallman.com/books/how-to-have-an-affair-and-not-get-caught

NOTE: The enclosed information is solely a guide based on many knowledgeable sources and personal opinions. There is no 100% guarantee for desired results.

Even if you make it home just 10 minutes before your spouse, it can still seem as if you’ve been home for hours.

• Learn how to make some quick and colorful meals that look complicated. For example, sprinkle almond slivers on plain boiled green beans, or dust some dried parsley on top of the mashed potatoes. Instead of spooning some rice on a dinner plate, press the rice into cookie cutters and place shaped rice patties on the plate. It will look as if you took forever to prepare them. Your family will be so happy with your expert food preparation, they’re bound to forget to ask where you’ve been and when you came back.

• Make the bed or just straighten the covers, crack out some new bars of soap in the bathroom, and rearrange some furniture. Quickly move or change items on the kitchen counter, on the living room coffee table, or on the dining room table. Small changes like these make it seem like you’ve been at home for a while.

• Turn on the TV. If someone asks what you’ve been watching, say you’ve been too busy to pay attention.

• If the children are home, do something distracting like playing loud music and dancing in their rooms while putting away their socks. They’ll think you’re nuts and forget when you really got home.

Save these strategies for when you come home later than expected from your rendezvous. Don’t use them unnecessarily.

https://www.laurentallman.com/books/how-to-have-an-affair-and-not-get-caught

NOTE: The enclosed information is solely a guide based on many knowledgeable sources and personal opinions. There is no 100% guarantee for desired results.

Once your schedule is more your own, and you’re not a slave to the phone, start shifting your activities.

If your work often entails late afternoon meetings, you will have a much easier time explaining why you come home late. Make sure your fictitious meetings “take place” outside the office.

Your marketing can also be your salvation.

• If you are the one buying the groceries, split up your shopping. Buy perishables when you have time but buy non-perishables on days when you’re planning a tryst.

• Find a grocery that opens early which is near or on the way to work. On the days you’re planning your rendezvous, have an exact list of what you need, leave the house early, and buy your non-perishables before you get to work. Even vegetables will keep in a cooler in the back of your trunk. Try placing the order the night before if you can. That way you can quickly pick up your groceries in the morning and be just a few minutes late for work.

• Buying your food in the morning can give you up to 2 hours of freedom later that day. Your excuse for coming home late that evening? ‘The market was packed.’ But make sure to say this only if you shop at a market far away from the prying eyes of your friends, neighbors, and spouse who could easily know if the local market was indeed crowded.

• Don’t fool yourself by thinking you can pick up the groceries after your date, even if they’re already bagged and waiting at the market. You’ll never have the time.

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Your family knows they can always get in touch with you at any time through your cell phone. Start changing that right away!

• Get out of the habit of answering the phone the moment it rings. With caller ID you see your better half is calling. Don’t pick up and don’t call back for 10 minutes. Next time wait 20 minutes. But don’t answer any other calls either. You can’t take the chance that a family friend will say they spoke to you when you plan to tell your spouse you weren’t near the phone.

• If asked why you didn’t answer your phone, say the supermarket was so crowded and noisy and you just didn’t hear it ring, or the traffic was so crazy you didn’t want to risk taking your hands off the wheel. Whatever you say, make it believable. Take control of your phone. Don’t jump when it rings.

Since we’re already talking about phones…

• NEVER speak to your lover on your home phone. NEVER give your spouse the chance to pick up the phone and hear your lover’s voice asking to speak with you. NEVER give your spouse a reason to question a series of suspicious hang-ups. Speak with your lover about this and be insistent.

• If your lover should leave a suspicious voice message on any of your phones, others in your home or work may hear it! No messages should be left by either of you, on any phone.

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Chapter 1

You need to make time for an affair.

Your family knows your routine. They know when you leave in the morning and when you come home at night. Without making a point of it, start changing your schedule slowly to build up your credibility.

• Have coffee or grab a drink with a colleague or old friend after work without telling your family beforehand. Later, when asked where you were, tell the truth.

• Go window shopping for one hour on the way home, without mentioning it beforehand. Later, if asked, honestly say that you were looking at clothes or a new lawnmower.

• Choose the longest check-out lane in the supermarket. If you’re asked why you’re home later than usual, you can honestly say the supermarket was packed.

• Once in a while, leave for work 20 minutes early. Mention that you want to beat the morning rush, to get to the office due to some extra work you have.

• You can easily give the same excuse on the flip side, by leaving work 20 minutes later. When coming home late, be honest and say you worked a little late at the office in order to beat heavy traffic out of the area.

• Never say you stayed at the office when you didn’t because someone may have tried to call you there and your cover will be blown.

• Never lie and say you were late due to a traffic jam or an accident on the road if there wasn’t one. Your spouse could have been listening to the radio or watching the news and will have heard that the roads were clear.

• Likewise, if you get paid for overtime, never use “staying late at the office” as an excuse for not coming home on time.

• If you can safely use “work” as an excuse, do not say you’re working on a project with fellow employees. Your spouse may inadvertently ask one of them how the project is coming along.

Be honest in your answers! Don’t lie because there is no need to lie. Get used to answering calmly and to the point. There is no reason to be nervous because you are not lying!

The more you make these little changes, the less self-conscious you will feel, and the more extra time you’ll be adding to your daily away-from-home schedule (See Chapter 3 “Where Were You?”)

If small children are involved, work your new schedule around them. This book will not advocate neglecting children for any reason.

https://www.laurentallman.com/books/how-to-have-an-affair-and-not-get-caught

NOTE: The enclosed information is solely a guide based on many knowledgeable sources and personal opinions. There is no 100% guarantee for desired results.

There are two types of affairs – short-term and long-term.

One-night stands or a handful of convenient trysts are considered short-term affairs. During a short-term affair, don’t feel obligated to fill in your new companion about the details of your life, which include your full name, address, profession, family, etc. There is no reason for them to know so much personal information. Many tend to even lie at this stage simply due to safety precautions or to round out the fantasy. If you do make things up, keep it simple and easy to remember in case you decide to meet up again.

In a short-term affair, never forget there are no strings attached and you owe each other nothing. No matter where or how you met, you both signed up for a short ride, not a lengthy adventure.

When short-term affairs turn into long-term affairs it usually means you’ve formed deep feelings for one another. When sincerity kicks in, it’s time to be honest. Be prepared to expose yourself to emotional involvement, but always be aware you are still having an affair, not a committed relationship (See Chapter 7 “Where’s This Thing Going?”)

In addition, emotions and affection will impair your judgment and this can lead to reckless decisions. Women fall prey to this recklessness much more easily than men. Women tend to think about how his last name sounds paired with hers, and even imagines her paramour leaving his life and, often, his wife for her. While women tend to commit faster, even men fantasize about a future together with their lover.

This is when you need to step into the cold shower of logic:

An affair is not a marriage proposal.

An affair is not a lifetime commitment.

An affair is an affair and nothing more.

At this point, if that cold shower gives you cold feet about having an affair, STOP NOW!!! If your conscience is bothering you while reading this, you’re not ready. You still have time to go back.

But, if you’re thinking, “Come on, get on with it. What do I need to do to have an affair responsibly?” then keep reading and remember, while you dream of that first kiss, and that first touch, you’ll have to know how to handle the first time perfume or aftershave lingers on your clothes, and the first time you’ll have to settle up a motel bill.

That’s what this booklet is all about!

https://www.laurentallman.com/books/how-to-have-an-affair-and-not-get-caught

NOTE: The enclosed information is solely a guide based on many knowledgeable sources and personal opinions. There is no 100% guarantee for desired results.

You decided to have an affair.

Moments are now filled with fantasies about meeting a mysterious stranger, rendezvous taking place in dark locations, stolen kisses and the promise of passion to come.

You may even have taken your first step and met some one. Maybe you’ve already managed a furtive tryst with a new partner.

Are you riding a wave of euphoria frantically planning your next date, or are you freaking out about getting discovered?

With this guide you will learn how to significantly and almost entirely reduce your chances of getting caught. Yes, here are helpful tips on how to have a “safe” affair, but it’s going to take preparation and a little know how. Affairs can be dangerous if not planned properly. This brochure will help keep your home and family intact while making the most of the affair.

Half the fun of an indiscretion is the spontaneity, but there’s much at stake, especially if there are people you love whose feelings and lives may be at risk. For this reason, you will be making some extensive changes in your life to accommodate your plans.

To have a safe affair, you must think ahead. In short, you must be responsible or get out of bed!

https://www.laurentallman.com/books/how-to-have-an-affair-and-not-get-caught

NOTE: The enclosed information is solely a guide based on many knowledgeable sources and personal opinions. There is no 100% guarantee for desired results.

Maw, Paw, my older sister Cathleen and me was sitting in the livin’ room with Cathleen’s beau. “He built like a brick shithouse,” I heard Cathleen whisper to her friend once. Well, I figure, even a blind squirrel finds an acorn once in a while! To me, he jest looks as horny as a three-balled tomcat, but if I say that, all hell would break loose!

“How come there’s your cookies on the table, Maw?” I asked, trying to take one. Maw slapped my hand.

“You leave them be, child! Them’s for our guest.”

“Beats me what makes him so special?” I said out loud.

“Hesh up, child!” Maw turned and smiled widely to Cathleen’s beau. “An’ where are you workin’ now?” she asked all sweet.

“Well m’am, I’m workin’ at that carpenter shop in the next town. Yes’m, I got me a full 6 years of schoolin’ and I learned me how to build things from ol’ Mr. Jameson. But I’m thinkin’ of openin’ my own shop.”

“Yeah, sure,” I think. “He’s dumber than a box of rocks.” But looks like Cathleen gettin’ herself a man. Well, shows ya that even the sun shines on a dog’s ass some days. I watched as he smiled to Cathleen and she got all squirmy and giggly. She was dressed as all get out and sittin’ near him like they joined at the hip.

Paw pulled out some of his finest moonshine and he kept pourin’ for Cathleen’s beau and hisself, and gettin’ drunk as a skunk.

I think, “They thinkin’ her beau gonna marry her. Well, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. This is a waste of time, and I still can’t have one of them cookies, an’ I’m mad.”

Paw got up and he and Cathleen’s beau went out to the porch, to talk ‘man talk’ as Paw put it. Soon as they got outta the door, me, Maw, and Cathleen jumped like a sprite cat, keepin’ real quiet behind the livin’ room window curtain.

Cathleen’s beau say how he wanna court her. Paw got all serious-like and said, “Now you take care of my chil’. She pure as the drivin’ snow.”

I started to laugh and Cathleen smack me in the head!

Later Cathleen and her beau took a walk toward the barn. I figured if I can’t have them cookies, I might as well have some fun! So I followed Cathleen and her beau. You know how they say ‘curiosity killed the cat, an’ satisfaction brought it back’? Yup, they was right! Out behind the barn, I find her beau with his hand in the cookie jar, so to speak! They getting’ all worked up and I tried to get closer to see some more. He smilin’ from ear to ear, tellin’ her he wanna play hide the salami. Now Cathleen’s ‘bout as smart as a marble, so I got up real close to see what the heck he was talkin’ her into! What I didn’t see was the rake that Paw left leanin’ on the barn wall, and bam! It smack me square in the face! I began to howl like a banshee, and jump like a leap frog!

Maw and Paw come runnin’ outta the house real fast. Now Cathleen and her beau weren’t as quick, cause Paw seen how her beau was puttin’ himself back together, and Cathleen was pressin’ out her Sunday dress with her hands. Well, Maw was madder than a wet hen! I had my hand over my achin’ eye, but I smile to Cathleen’s beau an’ ask, “How’s it hanin’?” and her beau stare at me, all mad. I jumped behind Maw fast, cause I know, keep a bad dog with ya, and the other dogs won’t bite!

Paw put up his fist, and he start runnin’ after Cathleen’s beau. Her beau took off like a shot, makin’ a break for it. Paw was slow cause he so liquored up, but Paw kept runnin’ till he and Cathleen’s beau got past our land, and well into our neighbor’s cornfield! Cathleen stood with Maw and me. She bawlin’, getting’ all red, uglier than a mud fence, and making like she don’t know what was wrong.

I said, “Aw, for cryin’ out loud, save the drama for yo’ mama!”

Cathleen suddenly shut up and look vicious. Even with my hand over my eye, I see her swingin’ at me, and I ducked.

Maw caught Cathleen by the hair and pull her into the house. I hear Maw saying things like, “You lie with dogs, you catch fleas!” and “Why he buy the cow when the milk is free!” an’ somethin’ about “There better not be a bun in the oven!”

That got me to thinkin’ bout them cookies on the table an’ I run inside before Maw stops smackin’ Cathleen’s head. From far, I hear Paw throwin’ rocks at some chickens, cussin’ real bad. I sit in the livin’ room, my feet on the table, my hand over my achin’ eye, eatin’ them dee-licious cookies and I figure, all’s well that end’s well…

Spain was not what I expected. Joe, my lover left, without saying why, but I knew. We looked alike, broad shoulders, narrow hips, the long appendages that kept our love life strong. But still, we’d grown apart. All I could do was sit in our room, my room now, and bake in this heat. The air was sizzling, wet, pulsating in waves, and so was I.

He’d left his book on the table. It was porn. Yah, he loved that shit. My fingers left damp marks on the cover. I looked about and decided to open a window.

Couldn’t be hotter outside than it was in here.

There was a ledge outside. If I sat on it, I could read, or let myself fall over. Great, someone in the next room had the same idea. He lay there, naked but for the small shorts. I wondered if he was alone too, and hurt, and aching.

I thumbed through the book, looking at pictures showing men who melded into one another. The heat was getting worse. I looked up and wiped the sweat that dripped into my eyes. The guy next door was still there, getting burned in this pounding sun. He looked over to me. I smiled. The corner of his mouth lifted. He wasn’t buff like my lover had been, but my lover wasn’t here any longer, was he? I gave a slight nod.

He had his book right over his crotch, picked it up, and used it to wave away the sweltering heat. There was a visible bulge. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of my face. I put my finger between two pages, held up the book, and used it to wave back.

“How ya doin’?”

The guy turned toward me and smiled.

“Hot as hell! I better get inside.”

My mouth went dry. He was tall and his legs looked strong. I stood.

“Want a cold one? I have some imported beer.”

He stopped, stared at me, and waited. I smiled a boyish grin. No need to scare the man. He squinted, waved a hand and yelled as he walked.

“Sure. That’ll be me knocking.”

I ran inside. It was a bit cooler in the dark room. I turned on the ceiling fan, wiped my face, looked in the mirror and moved a strand of hair from my forehead. Looking again, I smirked and put it back. It made me look pretty cool. There was a knock and I shot across the floor.

“Hi, come on in. The beer’s cold and man, I need it.”

He entered and stood near the door.

“Thanks for the invite. I was broiling out there. Don’t know what made me think I could take the heat this late in the afternoon.” He put out his hand. “I’m Paul.”

“I’m Nick.”

We shook. His fingers were strong and grasped my hand with force yet did not hurt. I wanted to pull him closer but realized he had a ring on his finger. I pointed to the couch, dark with shadows from the cutting sunset. We sat, half facing one another. We talked; we laughed. He was in Spain on business.

I handed him another ice-cold beer. “Did you come with your wife?”

“No, we’re sort of separated right now. We’ll see.” Paul took a hefty swig.

I watched his neck as he gulped. “I just bought this apartment. I was here, with someone, but I’m alone now. Hey, if you need someone to show you around, I’m your man.”

I prayed. He turned his head to me.

“I’ll tell you, I’m working here just to keep my mind off of home.” He leaned his head back. “Man, between that sun and these beers, my head is spinning.”

His chest moved up and down in a slow rhythm. His eyes closed. I watched how he clutched the bottle in one hand and ran his other up and down the wet glass. He kept speaking.

“Man, I didn’t tell anyone about this, about us parting. It’s hard. I miss her. We were good together; you know what I mean? Yah, look, we had some rough moments, but man, when we were together, oh hell, it was great. You know what I mean?”

He looked at me and it was more than I could bear. I put my palm on his face and felt his hot cheek. Paul jumped and scrambled up the couch.

“Hey, wait man. I’m not into that. Listen, I’m sorry, I’m just not…doing that.”

Crushed, I nodded and pressed my lips together. “No, I didn’t mean to scare you. Just, just I’m alone too and, you know, you’re really nice. I’m sorry, really.”

Paul slowly sank into the couch. “No, it’s ok. Just, I’m straight you see. Why, why you all upset. Cause of me?”

I wiped my face with my full hand. “No, not you. My friend left. It hurts so badly. Not his being gone, but like you said, we were good together, in bed. Aw man, it was great. I miss it.”

Tears burst into my eyes but I didn’t cry. I just let them run down my face. He moved an inch closer, then closer. I realized in the dying light, his eyes were bright blue. He looked like a god, skin shiny from the heat, tanned and rippling with each move. For a moment I imagined how it could be but I knew better.

“Paul, go. But go back to your wife. If it was good in bed, it would be good later too. I really want you to leave. I really need someone and can’t take rejection right now. Go back. Go to bed with her and things will be ok. I know; I’m sure.”

He shifted on the couch and came closer. He shifted some more. Our knees met and a shiver ran up my spine. I couldn’t hide it.

“Nick, I never did this, but…I don’t know…I want to just try something. Is that ok?”

Oh, hell yah, it was ok. I was in pain, mentally and physically and here was this sweet guy coming to me.

“Whatever you want, however you want.”

Paul put the bottle on the table. I brought my head forward and kissed him, slowly, with little kisses to make him want something longer and harder. Sure enough, he pulled me forward, still kissing, and laid me on top of him. His mouth was smooth, his tongue was wide, and his hands were running down my body. We stopped to catch our breath. He looked into my eyes.

“I don’t know. I don’t know how. Show me.”

I breathed into his mouth.

“Yes.”

In a second, I pulled him up, to stand him in all his glory. I pulled down his shorts, letting them graze down his thighs and along his legs. His prick bobbed in my face and it was more than I could control. I grabbed it and forced it into my mouth. Oh, the taste, the heat. My head bobbed back and forth, bringing him in, further and further, till he reached my throat. I managed to peek up and see his head thrown back, his chest rising and falling as he gasped. I wanted him to groan, to moan, to beg to be entered. Still on my knees, I pulled him out in one move. His eyes opened wide, his arms out.

“Wha…? Why? I’m no good?”

“Oh, you’re great. I’m gonna show you, everything. Don’t move. Just don’t move.”

I took him into my mouth again, blowing my breath on it, held him firm with my lips tightly around the root, meanwhile running my tongue along the bottom of his shaft. He groaned. I put my hand between his legs and felt how his sack tightened so badly, it became hard to the touch. I rolled it in my hand, felt between the two balls and pulled gently to bring them into my palm. He groaned again. Paul was pumping too strongly and I did not want this to end.

I popped him out of my mouth and stood. I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed. My voice wasn’t my own.

“Turn. Bend.”

He did and his ass, squared and slender stared at me. I could hardly breathe while I spread his cheeks and explored at the entrance I so needed. Looking around, I saw the beer bottle and poured some onto my hand and the crack of his ass. I put my finger up to the pulsing hole. Slowly, so slowly it would have made another man mad, I touched the rim, then inserted a finger deeper, and deeper still. I rubbed the beer around the hole and carefully inserted another finger, spreading him wider. I felt the rings tighten around my fingers while his ass sucked me in. My prick was jumping up and down, as if asking when it was its turn to taste Eden. I kept my fingers deep inside and leaned almost across his back. I whispered in his ear.

“You feel them. Now feel this.”

Paul moaned and grasped the couch to keep himself from collapsing. I poured the last of the beer onto my stone hard stick. My left hand had to hold my prick down and aim at the widened hole. I yanked my fingers out and before he could tighten to his virgin state, I put the head inside. Paul’s head shot up. He gasped for air.

“Wait! It hurts. Wait…wait. Will this hurt?”

I put my hand onto the back of his head and gently pushed it down.

“Let go. Relax. Want it. Want it and open for me. There, open, right, easy, it’s moving in. No! You tensed.” I slapped his thigh, then spoke gently. “That’s it. Open for me. Easy.”

“It hurts! Please!”

I waited but only for a moment.

“I’m in. I’m already inside.” I whispered. “I’m in you.”

Paul’s breathing came in gasps. His hands grasped onto the couch while his ass lay open to me. I thought my thumping heart would explode but Paul had to learn how this was done.

“I’m going in more. Do you feel it? Paul, do you feel me slipping in? It won’t hurt you anymore. I’m in.”

Paul’s voice moved with me. “Yes. Go…on…in me…yes…up there…I feel it…oh God…I feel it…it’s up…”

I stopped, still in him. I wanted him to beg.

“Nick! No, be in, be inside. Nick, come on.” He banged back to me, again and again, immersing my dick into that fine ass. “Nick! Come on!” He begged. “Come on!”

I grabbed his thighs in each hand and I slammed into him. I came out part way and rammed back in, deeper and deeper. He growled, grinding, smacking back into me until I felt I could go no deeper. I slapped his ass.

“Stop. Don’t move. Feel this. Don’t move!”

With my pulse throbbing in my neck, my mouth dry from hard breaths, I looked down and concentrated on his hole, extended with my prick inside of it. I moved out some, moved in, and pushed hard till my thighs slapped the backs of his legs. I stopped, took a deep breath, when it began. I felt it bubbling inside of me and I pulled out almost to the end and with more control than I knew I had, I slid. I slid in further, feeling the rings grasping my prick, tickling it, till I couldn’t stand it any longer. I plunged forward and stopped. I plunged again and again, feeling the cum springing out of me.

“Now you’ve got it! Here! It’s in you. It’s coming in you!”

Paul was shaking, frantically rubbing his prick.

“I feel it! You’re filling me! I’m coming! Fuck, I’m coming!”

We let out screams, we groaned, and we gulped for air.

Finally emptied, I put both arms on his back and leaned on him. He was shaking and his body wet. I could hardly whisper.

“Don’t move. Feel it. I’m slipping out.”

He groaned at the thought and fell forward onto the couch. My body shook, hands on my hips for balance, and tried to keep my heart from bursting in my chest. My prick was still strong. Paul turned and stared, his eyes opened at the sight. It was cute and I wanted to laugh but my mind turned to one thing.

“Up for another one?”

He sucked in some air, then more.

“When?”

It was Fall when a bizarre thing happened. In her office, a young executive brought his cup of coffee over and casually sat next to her. It stunned Jessi when he sat without permission, but she was shocked when she heard his whispered suggestion. Oh, it was a beaut, believe me. Just, Jess had this one little quirk…every time someone made a play for her, she came home and attacked her husband…in a very physical way. In fact, when old Jess got home that night, she barely closed the front door before she grabbed her husband, threw him onto the dining room floor and, just as Jessi was beginning to see stars, she up and died!

Doctors called it heart failure but a young researcher disagreed. He called it “a heart attack from an oncoming orgasm”. His peers laughed but it wouldn’t change his mind. In fact, he had long decided to do some research on his own. His name was Dr. John Robert Hughings and he was about to encounter something probably no other man had ever known before – a turned-on ghost.

Jessi opened her eyes, stretched, and yawned. She found herself in a chair in what looked like a room, but there were no walls, or ceiling, or floor. In front of her sat a rather nice-looking man, just starting to gray at the temples, who held papers in his hands.

“Hello Jessica. How do you do?”

“I’m ok, I think. Where am I?” Jessi pondered a thought. “The last thing I remember was the dining room and…oh, gee…!” She grasped the arms of her chair and looked him in the eye. “Where am I?”

“Now Jessica, let me explain. Understand, everything that could have been done was done. Your heart took a nasty shock and couldn’t handle the strain.”

Jessi looked down. “I remember. I was just about to, to, you know, about to…”

“See stars?”

“Okay, yes, that’s good, but I blacked out. Heck, I thought I was blacking out because of, what I was doing.”

“Seeing stars.”

“Yes! I felt I was flying high in the sky.” Jessi’s head shot up. “Wait, where AM I?”

“Jessica, you are in heaven.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No really. You are in heaven. I see from your file that you don’t believe in a particular god, or in heaven, or in angels.”

“Oh, hell, I’m an angel?”

He was overcome by a terrible shiver. “Please Jessica, control what you say. This IS heaven, after all.”

The man stood and walked from behind the desk, sat on its edge, leaned forward. “We try to make our new arrivals feel at home as quickly as possible. But you must understand Jessica that we do have rules here. Now, the only way you can finally feel at home is to be in a proper state of mind. First of all, you will need closure to help detach yourself from your former life. You must have left your life unfulfilled in some way.”

Jessi looked at her folded hands on her lap. “Yes sir, I would call it that.” Her voice was soft but shaky.

“We allow our new angels to go down to earth, to finish what they left undone. Once it is accomplished, we will talk further about your term here.”

“My term here?”

He shrugged. “Well, we can’t call it your life here.”

“No, no, I see. Well, I understand that I can go back now and fulfill my…needs?”

“I would think you would want to see your family once more or do a good deed or something to that effect.”

“Oh, no sir. I have only one thing on my mind. And if you want any cooperation from me, it will only be after I get it over with.” She rose from her seat.

“You can’t.”

Jessi was half standing.

“What?”

“You can’t, ummmm, you…”

“Can’t see stars?”

“No.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

She slumped back into the chair. “Hell!”

“Shhhh!” He shivered again and put a hand over one ear. “You can’t say that here!”

Jessi jumped up and paced, not noticing that there was nothing under her feet. “So, this is death! Great! All I can do is whisper some goodbyes? Why? They’re probably crying and I’d cry too. No, that’s no good. May I see my husband, just him?”

“Yes, take as long as you need.”

“Thank you. This is a shock. Still, is there something I can do? I don’t feel very well, you understand. Under the circumstances, I feel rather nervous. There’s no way I can…”

“No, no way.”

Jessica turned to go. “Hell!” she whispered

“Stop that!” he said and threw the papers onto his desk.

Jessi floated down, holding her fluttering dress around her knees against the strong but warm winds. Male angels stared, recalling long-forgotten memories of a living life. Landing wasn’t difficult but walking between people and not being seen was bewildering. No one felt her presence.

She entered the State General Hospital and looked into the waiting room. There her husband stood, his hands plunged deep into his coat pockets. He looked so perplexed, disheveled, and definitely turned on.

In all the excitement of my dropping dead, he never got to see stars either!

A cute nurse entered, brushed Jessi’s arm but, of course, did not feel it. Jessi walked behind her.

“I’m sorry Mr. Peters, we did all we could.”

He collapsed. The nurse tried to hold him but he was too heavy. She fell to the floor with him. She tried to pick him up and so did Jessi, whose hands only ran through him. He rose, with the nurse, both of them, to the couch, that little two-seater in the corner. He grabbed the nurse, all over. She resisted, but not enough. Jessi watched as they began to see stars, all over the place.

Jessi stamped her foot, which made no sound. That’s the last straw! Not being seen is one thing, being dead is no prize, but to be forgotten so quickly is too much.

Jessi walked out of the room, down the hall and to the left. She realized she had walked into a doctor’s office. There, she saw Dr. John Hughings. She knew due to that little name tag on his jacket. He wrote on her report then cursed and threw his pen on the desk.

Jessi was perplexed. “Why should he be so upset? I’m the one who’s dead!”

She peeked over his shoulder and read. “It is my sincere belief that Mrs. Peters died from extreme stress caused by sexual aggravation.”

Heck, that was no aggravation.

He erased the last word and wrote ‘excitement’.

She whispered, “Good boy, Johnny.”

John looked up as if he had heard something. The door opened behind them and the cute nurse entered. Oh, Jessi wanted to belt her.

“Are you finished with the report, Doctor?”

“Yes, make sure this is copied and sent through immediately. I want to see the autopsy report as soon as possible.”

“Yes sir. I’ve just seen the husband.”

You sure did, and his best part too.

The nurse shook her head. “He said he didn’t want an autopsy, but to cremate immediately.”

That was it! Oh, she could just kill him!

The doctor stood and rubbed his eyes. “Nurse, stall him a bit. I want to look at the body one more time. Can you keep him busy?”

The nurse burst into a smile. “Of course, doctor! I’ll get right on it!”

Jessi took a swing at the nurse but it made no sound or impact.

Oh hell. A cold shudder passed through her. She looked up. Sorry.

Jessi followed him. Dr. Hughings removed the sheet from her body. He checked with a doctor’s cold hand and clinical mind. He looked closely at her face. It was a pretty face, with just a bit of wrinkles about the eyes. He smiled at her.

“Those are stress lines and I know the stress. Sorry Mrs. Peters. Sorry it happened just a minute too soon.”

He covered her body and walked out the door. Jessi followed. In his office, he phoned the Chief of Staff.

“Hi Larry, it’s John. Look, I want to continue that project now more than ever. Yes, it does have to do with this Peters woman. It’s not crazy Larry! If a pill could be made to prevent stress on the heart without interfering with natural excitement, then we could save lives and let people enjoy themselves.”

Jessi heard the muted voice on the other end while she looked at the doctor’s face. She laid her hand on his. He jerked and looked around.

“Sure Larry, yah, I’m here. Good, I’ll have a report on the lab tests in the morning. Yeah, I’ve been working on this pill and I think it’ll work. Lar, I’m sure of it. Ok, good-bye.”

He hung up, rubbed his fingers, turned and left. Jessica stared at her hand.

Did I feel his too?

Jessica decided to leave with Dr. Hughings. After all, she had no idea where to sleep for the night! They got into his car and rode off to the outskirts of town. Jessica wondered if the doctor was married. She hadn’t thought about his personal life. Well, she’d go for the ride and see where it took her.

They stopped at a small but charming house with a large flowering garden. Inside, there was the aroma of pine and leather. John put his books on the table near the couch, made himself coffee, and sat back. She walked around and searched to see who this man really was. Over the fireplace was a small picture of a young woman, yet there were no other signs of a female living there.

She left him! I’d know if she was dead!

John put his cup down. Jessi watched him climb the wooden stairs. She wanted to see John upstairs. Heck, she wanted to see John undressed upstairs. As he walked into the bathroom, she sat on top of the nearby dresser, her long legs swinging in and out of the wood. He took a small vial from the bathroom cabinet. Her eyes widened. John held a little plastic bottle and stared at it.

The pills! That’s what he’d spoken about with the Chief Surgeon! He had those pills made even before I died! That’s why he said he’d have the report tomorrow. He’s going to experiment on himself.

She watched him strip to the skin. And what skin, lean and strong, tanned and smooth. John glanced at the vial again, turned, and went into the shower. When he came out, he was wet and worried. Again, he picked up the vial and with a deep sigh, swallowed one small, white pill.

Overwhelmed with gratitude, and staring at his tempting bronze skin, she brushed a finger along his lower back. He absently rubbed the spot. Jessi gasped.

He felt it! Why? And how?

John lay across the bed, already asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.

He’s sleeping quietly enough and he reacts to my touch. If I just… Please, don’t die on me!

She slid down next to him. He turned and put his arm around her. Jessi smiled.

Oh, this is heaven! Not what’s up there!

A shiver rushed through her but she wouldn’t pay it any mind. He came closer, he came nearer, he came deeper, he came. They both fell into a heavy sleep.

A hand touched Jessi’s shoulder. She looked up. It was the man from heaven’s office.

“Come Jessica!”

“I just did!” she whispered.

“No, I mean come back. You’ve done your work here.”

Jessica looked at the kind doctor and watched his chest rise and fall in easy but strong motions. The pill worked. Jessica reluctantly rose and looked down at John. What a face. What a magnificent body! She kissed him goodbye. He smiled and turned in his sleep.

Jessi sighed and left, going up, still seeing stars.

They said it would be 110 today. It was 115. I sat under a tree. Its wide trunk held my back. Its drying leaves fluttered but still kept most of the sharp rays from frying me. Brief winds felt as if I was behind a plane revving for take-off. It was too hard to get up and find a bench. I put my head back onto the hard bark and looked out.

The small lake, just yards away, did not offer cool relief. Rather, it gave off blinding sparks and churned from lures diving in and colored bobbers dancing on the water. A wide pergola hung along the far edge of the lake for fishers. They all stood at the perimeter, with equipment ranging from little boys’ sticks and string to professional rods. I watched the two little boys nearby. How cute they were, laughing, dropping slimy bait, while trying their best to emulate the experienced fishers.

I looked across the water and my breath caught. Jake? No, it couldn’t be. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. A hot breeze came from behind me and lifted the hair from my neck. Jake would do that, move my hair aside and kiss me, from neck to back to bottom. I shuddered, my body trying to wave off the heat, and from the heat that rose inside of me.

Tears stung my parched eyes. When did I last cry for Jake? When didn’t I cry? I stared at the rippling water. It swayed and splashed onto the mud encircling the lake. I could still remember when Jake watched while I undressed. He laid low in the jacuzzi. Nothing moved in the water, except his member that grew like a thick reed. I’d gotten down on all fours and crept toward him with catlike grace. He grabbed my arm and pulled me on top of his rigid sex. It poked and I cried out, laughing. Jake turned on the faucets full blast. The water roared, drowned out my moans when he entered his fingers into me. He did not stop, in and out, till I gasped for breath and climaxed, breaking under his attack. The wood floor surrounding the jacuzzi darkened from the splashes and flying drops of water. Jake lifted me and laid me across the edge of the tub. My breasts tightened as they slipped across the cold enamel. He entered me from behind and jammed until I cried out. The exquisite pain of a climax made my body burn and my throat raw. Tears burst into my eyes from the force. The same tears that now flowed down my cheeks.

Shouts came from across the lake. I raised myself to see if it was my Jake-of-the-lake. No, it was someone near him who had caught a large fish. Even from where I sat, I could see this Jake’s scowl and how his lips tightened. He cast his lure into the water, reeled in, and waited. His head moved up and down for a moment. It looked as if he was speaking to a fish, asking it to latch onto the tender bait. I remembered this look when Jake returned from a trip. We had not seen one another for weeks, when his wife took him and the girls to Sweden. Jake pulled me along the street, to his car. He looked right and left, squeezing my arm with his long fingers. I did not speak. I had never seen him desperate before. Finally, we found his car, parked in a narrow lane, back from the main street. We entered. He rubbed his eyes with both hands. His pants were taut, the zipper stretched. I opened his trousers. It took some force until I managed to pull him out. The car was sweltering, windows closed and fogged. He rested his head back. I bent and licked him across and around. Sweat cooled my forehead while I bobbed. I drew him deep into my mouth while drops of sweat trickled and tickled while they flowed down my cheeks. I had missed him and wanted all of him. In one move I drove him into my throat. Sweat slid into the creases of my mouth, making the salty sucking easier. He grew until I choked but I did not let go. My body steamed. From overhead I heard the soft request. “You will drink it, won’t you?” I rammed him into my throat. He poured out without my even tasting it.

The lake’s waves blinked at me, in colors of diamonds from the setting sun. My finger touched a bead of sweat at the crook of my neck and I ran it down my chest, till the buttoned shirt halted the cooling drop. My bra and shirt were damp and my panties soaked.

Another commotion came from the lake. The two little boys ran, jumping in the air, fish trembling on the ends of the makeshift rods.

“Gran’ma, get up! Look what we caught!”

I laughed as they struggled to pull me up and ran around me. The grass was cool under my feet. I wiped away the sweat from under my eyes, for the last time. Finally, finally, the heat subsided.

You know how it is, you wake up a little earlier, it’s still dark out, and you realize he’s woken up too, sort of. Then he slips his arm around you and you snuggle in. He presses a little closer and you think, ‘Uh-oh!’ Yep, it’s a morning quickie, though at sixty-three you don’t know if it’s a quickie or ‘try till you die’.

You slip out from under his arm. At one time you pranced to the john on tiptoes, barefoot, to freshen up. Today your slippers scrape the floor because your feet don’t lift that high at this early hour.

Once you put on dabs of perfume and ran your fingers through your hair. Today you pat on some baby oil in sensitive areas, just to make sure things glide the way they should. You look in the mirror and instead of fixing your hair, you turn off the light.

Ah, back in his arms. It’s been a while and he feels so good. Being frisky, he turns and gets you on top of him! Wow, nice! He fondles your breasts and says how large they’ve become. You know it’s only because they’ve gotten softer. Once they poked him in the eye. Now they stare at his neck.

He leans you far back and a long time ago you would have turned your face up and felt the energy of him. Now you laugh and say, “No way!” The burning pain in your thighs and your ‘ow, ow ows’ subside when he carefully turns you onto your back.

He lifts your legs over his shoulders. This isn’t an easy task for either of you. He groans at that old ache in his left shoulder. You put your hands behind your thighs to help hoist your legs up there. At one time those thighs were taut and firm. Now you feel something that resembles Braille. Your elbows hurt from pressing into the mattress and you figure ‘He doesn’t need that much help’ so you let go.

You put your arms around his shoulders and rise up to him, hoping he doesn’t hear that you’re panting, not from pleasure but because you actually can’t breathe. You’re folded in half. If you don’t take a good breath, a paramedic will be there instead. Blessedly, your husband lowers one of your legs. You know it’s because his left shoulder really hurts, but neither of you mentions it.

You look up. Oh, that face. He looks like he did 40 years ago, except for the whitened hair, the cheeks that now droop forward, and that look of pain. It’s not the pain of ecstasy, it’s the look of the man when he’s trying to come to a climax, make you come to one, and his back is stiff. But he carries on, you try to help and move with him, and finally, there it is. It begins. You both feel it and you look up and smile at that wonderful man who is doing his damnedest to make you happy. He’s panting and you tell him he’s wonderful. You feel how he needs to climax or die, and you’re so afraid he may just do that if this keeps up. But the two of you carry on, winded, pushing, until finally you both break into this glorious, needed release. The climax is strong, not only due to love, but because the two of you had fallen asleep at the evening news for the last eight months and this was something you both needed.

Your husband slides your leg down and it falls with a flop. You sort of forgot about it because it had lost all feeling about five minutes earlier. Your husband lands on the bed right next to you. He’s warm and his strong heart is beating so hard you feel the beats against your arm. You wait to make sure the pounding subsides, but doesn’t stop. Things are quiet and you smile. You both still ‘got it’.

His breathing gets deeper and turns into puffs of an oncoming deep sleep. After some minutes his eyes open and he asks, “What time is it?” It’s really hard for you to see the clock. Not because he’s in the way. You can’t see that far without your glasses. You squint really hard, one eye more than the other because that’s the bad eye. Only eight minutes have passed since you started. You don’t have to mention it. Instead you say, “Sleep, we have time.” But you don’t. Listening to the soft spurts of breath, you know you’ll both be late for work if he doesn’t get up in ten minutes.

He’s not sleeping, though. He kisses your neck and says with pride, “Not bad, huh?” You try to turn to him but your arm is caught under his side and neither of you can move nimbly enough to free it. Finally he lifts himself enough for you to slip aside. You kiss his warm cheek. You pat his white hair. “Yup, just like the old days.”

The room was cool and I was naked. My skin rippled along my back, belly, and along my thighs. Puffs of breaths flowed from behind my masked mouth and became louder as time passed.

Four months passed and I still could not leave the room to see him, ever since the virus gripped the world and made me captive in my own home. My steps echoed, each slap on the icy floor, in time with the seconds on the mantle clock. My heart pounded, vibrating inside my chest. It skipped at every third beat. Since birth, twenty-four years before, I felt the erratic heartbeat. One. Two. Skip. One. Two. Skip. This virus, and the incessant waiting for his call, both made it beat harder.

“Where is he?”

My muffled voice rang out and bounced from the high ceiling. The more I paced, the smaller the room became and closed in around me. I gasped for air and my chest ached. I closed my eyes, felt my heart, and listened. One. Two. Skip. One. Two. Skip.

The phone’s ring made me jump onto the balls of my feet. I ran, stubbed my toes on the heavy wooden chair, cursed, and grabbed for the phone. It danced in my palm with its vibrations. My fingers shook and it took one mighty stab until the rubbered finger pressed the green button.

My voice was hoarse and muffled. “Yes, hello, hello, I waited.”

His laugh was low and raspy. “You waited? Yes, true, but my tardiness is only my concern. Not yours. Are you ready?”

I stood straight, lifted my head, and kept my feet flat as to warm the floor below them. “Yes, of course.”

“You needn’t reply more than one word. You know that.”

I lowered my chin to my icy chest. I had failed him. One. Two. Skip.

“Don’t sulk. Keep the phone near your cheek. I want to hear your moans.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, relieved that he was not angry. I smiled. “Yes.”

“Raise your right hand and bring your hand to your breast.”

I rushed up and under the heavy flesh that filled my palm. The gloves squeaked against the heavy, round mound. I prayed he did not hear it.

“Are you cupping it like I taught you?”

I sighed. “Yes.”

“Make believe I am standing across from you. Do you see me?”

Air steamed from the sides of my mask while I visualized him. Wetness seeped along my inner thighs. One. Two. Skip. “Yes.”

“Good. Stand at the window. Is it open as I told you?”

My lips pursed and I held my breath. I walked to it. Breezes flowed through my heavy dark hair, making it whip around my shoulders and back. “Yes.”

I glanced at the buildings across from me. Curtains discretely moved aside with hands that did not let them go. This was not the first time the voyeurs watched me in the last months since we stayed hidden from the deadly virus. One. Two. Skip.

“Can others see you?”

“Yes. Many, more than the last time.”

“I did not ask you to describe it. Only if they see you.”

Tears filled my eyes. I failed him once again.

His voice lowered with his mouth closer to the phone. I could hear his breaths.

“Hold your breast up to them. Show them how beautiful it is. Slowly, with two fingers, play with the nipple.”

I shuddered, held my head high, and brought the breast forward. Before I could grasp onto the tip, his shout made me jolt.

“Are the rubber gloves tight, a small size? They must see your fingers rub the nipple. Tell me.”

“Yes. Tight. Hard to slide into.”

His voice relaxed. “Good, excellent. You made me happy.”

He sounded proud of me. Elated, my heart pounded. One. Two. Skip. One. Skip. I bit my lip from the pain searing to my back. With closed eyes, I breathed slowly, waiting until the agony turned into a weak ache. But he was happy with me and now all was well.

“Play with the nipple and make it stand. Is the sun on you? Can they see down to your belly?”

I pinched the stone-hard nipple which made my chin rise to the warm light.

“Yes, the sun. No, nothing lower, as you asked.”

His smirking laugh flowed into my ear.

“Step back. One step.”

My eyes opened with a flash and my fingers were still. One. Two. Skip.

“I…I…”

He growled. “Do as I say. You defy me? Take two steps, not oe. Yes, two. And bring down your hand along your body to the belly and below. Open your fingers wide. Yes, that way.”

My fingers were upon the swollen mound between my legs when I stopped. Could he see me? Was he one of the many hiding behind taut curtains, peering at me? I looked forward, taking in the wide building before me. Which curtain would move, which stretched as he realized his mistake? I did not move. Then one, one curtain moved aside. It was him. He stood clothed, a pale blue sports shirt, the few buttons open at the neck. He ran his fingers through his wind-blown black hair. His white teeth shone against his dark skin. He laughed.

My voice was low. “Each time you called, you were watching me.”

His head went back and his laugh rang out. “Yes, each time. The others enjoyed themselves with me. I heard them climaxing while you engaged them with your body and how you touched it. But they do not matter. You are mine and you will do as I say.”

I knew I would. One. Two. Skip.

His voice came out in a heavy, breathy tone. “With one finger, put it inside of you. Take it out. Hold it up. I want to see if it sparkles.”

I did as he said. It twinkled in the light. One. Two. Skip.

“Enter your finger, deeper. Open your eyes. Look at me but know they are staring at you. Enter two fingers and move them. Yes, in and out. Show me how much you love me. Show them how much you love me.”

My chest ached. My fingers jabbed and swirled inside of me. My wrist ached but I continued. Odd curtains swayed and for the first time I heard moans from behind them.

“Show them you love me. When I say the word, you will climax. Not yet. Not yet. Move, more. Enter harder. Faster. Yes, show them. Yes, now. Show them!”

One. Skip…

Let them run. Don’t follow.

All across the park people grabbed children and blankets, dogs and drinks and made the mad dash to cars that stood too far away. A family rushed past. Their little girl looked at me, eyes wide, hand held high.

“Lady, rain!” she yelled, pointing to the black clouds rumbling behind me. Her feet barely touched the grass as her mother pulled her along.

No. I will sit here.

The trees around me stood straight, waiting for the downpour. I stared at the memorial plaque set on the ground before a tall sapling.

”David Herald – September 2015”

I crossed my arms and legs and watched the lake tremble. The mass of fowl hurried to their little island and huddled together for shelter.

Remember how you convinced me to swim naked in the sea? We dipped into the clear green water. The sunlight streaked down and I swirled the water and light with my fingers. Little fish came to watch us, unafraid but darting when we kicked our legs. Oh, your long legs. The muscles rippled as you swam past me and I put my hand out to touch them. You pressed your hands over my ribs. I thought you would touch my breasts. You gave a mighty kick and we flew up to the surface, gasping and coughing, gulping air, laughing, but you did not let go, and then you touched them.

Drops, the size of quarters thumped onto the bench, more followed. Torrents of rain crashed down and my hair stuck to my forehead and cheeks. My lips hurt from pressing them together, my eyes burned from lack of tears.

“Hey lady, you ok?”

A young man, tall like my David, stared as he pulled his shirt over his head against the storm. He hesitated, bouncing from one foot to the other. I nodded and looked away. Lightning flashed and he ran off.

Another David lost.

Drops smacked down leaves that, before, had rolled along.

We have been slapped down, haven’t we David? The gods have played with us. You kissed me that morning. Your arms wrapped around me. Looking out to the mountains, your chin pressing onto my head, making me laugh. I leaned into your hard body and was warm. When I looked up, you said “Kiss me” and I did.

My head whirled. The winds cut into my skin through my blouse. I stood, arms out, alone with the strongest of elements, head held high, drops pouring onto my blinking eyes in place of tears that refused to come. Clouds collided, the thunder deafening. I walked onto the open area, slipping along on the silky grass.

“David! Daaaaviiiid!”

Blinding lightning slicked through the sky.

David! Do it.

My chest heaved. I smiled madly and watched as a flash came toward me in slow motion, burning my eyes. I closed them and waited. In a second, searing heat shot into the ground at my feet. I flew back, head banging on the ridge of the bench, elbows stinging from the graze, back hurting from the impact. I heard nothing but my heavy breaths and the wild heartbeat in my ears. I sat up. The black hole in the earth filled from the deluge.

And then it stopped. It just stopped. The rain, the winds, the thunder, all gone, and I was still here.

Hands trembling, I checked my elbows for scrapes, pressed my lower back against the pain. I got up, brushed leaves from my behind and looked around. The gleaming white ducks left their cluster and entered the sparkling water, shaking their heads and flapping their wings. Shining tree limbs dipped with the heavy weight of drops propelling to the ground. Even the sun popped out from behind ivory clouds. I had to smile.

Washed clean, eh David?

I walked out of the park. At the curb, cars splashed by, water shooting out in perfect arcs from under their wheels. My shoes squished on the pavement as I went home.

I peeled off my clothes, shook my head and laughed when drops hit the mirror in perfectly aligned streaks. I put on his flannel sweats and it brushed softly on my chilled body. The shirt was so large I had to fold it around me to keep the cool air from rushing in. I laid on the couch with knees bent, my feet crushing the cushions for warmth. Drying wisps of hair tickled my forehead and cheeks. They made me shudder but I did not move them. My hands tucked into the folds of the shirt, pulling it down and I felt my breath sweep into the neckline and warm my breasts.

Do you remember lying like this David?

I do too.

Need to close your eyes and feel how the warmth erupts from you?

Find stories and more, all to make you shiver with anticipation.

I rushed up the street, my skirt flapping against my thighs. His apartment building stood tall, bright against the slate evening sky. It seemed so far out of reach. I looked up to his penthouse terrace. Several sections were in wrought iron, in the form of leaves and flowers. I wondered if anyone could see through them. But I’d never been out on the terrace. He was afraid of heights, though he owned the top floor, all surrounded by wall and iron.

My panting stopped when I reached the building’s entrance. Just by standing there, a calm came across me, almost. I straighten my shirt, pressed my skirt with my palms, waved away the dampness from my forehead, and rang his bell. The buzz was all too familiar and I laughed when I pushed the wide glass door open.

People walked in and out of the lobby. I didn’t care if they saw me. No one knew me in this town. I pushed the button marked PH twice, hoping it would make the elevator rise faster. Finally, there was that lift and slight drop, and the doors opened. Three long steps brought me to his door. It swung open before I knocked.

Mark’s broad smile formed wrinkles around his mouth and cheeks. His graying hair fell playfully to his eyes. He was tall, and strong. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to him.

We laughed and kissed. His hand went straight to my breasts. I pressed myself against his leg and touched the length of what felt like a piece of stone that hurt my thigh. I liked it. I liked that I excited him so quickly. We broke away, knowing we had time this evening. It was our habit to make coffee and eat cake and talk while sitting on the wide leaf-green sofa. I looked out to the sliding doors. Night had fallen and the sky was almost black. I leaned to him, kissed his warm lips, and whispered, “Why don’t we go out to the terrace tonight?”

Looking at the floor, he shook his head. “No. It’s not necessary.”

We had made love in the entrance against the wall, in each bedroom, every couch, table, window seat, and on each floor of the seven rooms, even the three bathrooms while I panted against the mirrors. There was one more place to conquer. I put my coffee and cake on the low table.

“I don’t know why you don’t go to the terrace and sit on that lonely swing, especially on such a beautiful night.”

He took a sip of the coffee. I licked my lips. He watched when I put my hands to my breasts and played with the nipples. They stood hard and made two dots in my shirt. He put his cup down and took a deep breath. I sat back.

“Too bad,” I sighed.

I put one foot up onto the table and let the other knee sway back and forth, almost exposing the area he loved. I looked out to the wide, shining terrace doors and pressed my skirt up my thighs.

“Too bad we’ve never gone out there.”

I opened my legs just enough for him to see I wore nothing underneath. His brow rose and his lips parted. I looked out again.

“I bet no one could see us from up here.”

He put down the cake, grabbed my hand, and pulled me to the doors. He slid them open with such force, the metal clanged inside the frames.

His voice was husky. “I doubt anyone can. Too high.”

My lips pressed tight when I realized perhaps this was not the best idea. The ridge of the white wall reached just under my breasts but the open wrought iron foliage pressed against my thighs. The breeze was strong and made high whistling sounds between the slim iron leaves and solid flowers. Behind me, Mark put his mouth next to my ear. His voice shook and I wondered if it was from passion or his fear of heights.

“Stand tall but bring your ass to me. Don’t move. Make believe you are just looking out.”

He inched up my skirt over my behind. He was close enough where I felt him fumbling and opening his pants. I looked down to people walking along the street, eight stories down. The sound of their laughter filled the air and I wondered if they would look up. They did not. Mark stood straight and his voice was almost too soft to hear.

“Don’t move. Don’t speak. Your voice will carry.”

Mark put his hand between my thighs and opened me enough to enter. He swept in and pressed his hips forward. I gasped from the strength and length of him. My fingers grasped onto the iron and it bit into my hands. He moved in rhythm. His voice shook.

“Don’t move. Just…look…out.”

His fingers dug into my hips while he jammed into me. My mouth opened. I gasped for air. Whether it was a cold breeze sweeping around us, or the idea that life carried on below us without once looking up, we pressed into and onto one another while holding our upper bodies still as much as we could. The moment came and I stifled a cry and he managed a low moan. Panting, we did not move. We waited, stood looking out to the beautiful view of lights and the lost sun on the horizon. Without a word, Mark moved into me and I realized this fantasy made him hard again. Once more, with me grasping onto the wall and iron in any manner, just to hold myself straight, and he with his head held high, he rammed with such deep pounding movements, I wanted to tell him to stop, that it hurt, but it was too delicious, too wild, and I closed my lips and clenched my teeth. His groans came out in deep growling sounds and I lost my breath in sharp gasps while I poured out.

It took many moments until Mark let my shirt fall back down around my now chilled behind. I shuddered when it flicked onto my legs from the breezes. We listened to a bird that sang while it flew by. There were children, somewhere far off, laughing. I heard him zip his pants. He returned to the apartment while I leaned onto the half wall and stared out. I heard his laugh from inside. “We should come out there more often.”

I waited, felt the cold sweat on my neck and waited for my heart to stop pounding when I turned and saw someone to my right on the roof of the opposite building. My brows came together when I realized a man was at least two floors lower than us yet in plain view. The man lifted his wine glass as if in praise. I saw his smile while he put one hand to his heart and exaggerated a deep bow. I smiled back. I called to Mark.

“Yes, we should do this again. After all, who could see us from here?”

I want to tell people you’re dead. Why not? You’re not here. You went away, in one moment, gone, with no more than a cheerful smile. You were so pleased with your future. With someone else. Somewhere else.

This is my promise. I will not think of you, no, never.

And I have not thought of you.

Except, except for an instant, when I passed the park. I stood there, at the entrance, before the wrought iron gate. It loomed over me, inviting me in, as it had that night. I stood and watched how the trees swayed in the wind. As it did when we sneaked in, in the dark. We’d walked gingerly and an owl hooted somewhere above us. I could still feel how my long sweater whipped out behind me, how your shoes sloshed onto the puddles that were left after the rain. You swung me around and I crashed into you. Your face was strong, with your green eyes searing into mine. I stopped laughing. I looked at your face that I loved so much. You pressed your hands onto my breasts, stroked, played till they stood, rock hard and wanting more. You opened my blouse and kissed them. You walked me slowly to the merry-go-round, laid me onto the seat and there you smiled and entered me. My voice rang out, bounced along the staring horses and darkened mirrors.

But I won’t think of that; not now.

No, I don’t let you into my mind. Except, this morning, when the curtains fluttered in the breeze. When the sun rose and lit up my bed. I lay there, watching shadows blending into the light. I raised my hand and remembered how you would hold them up to the beams. You loved my long fingers, you said. And you would press them into yours. And lower them to yourself where I clasped my fingers around you and felt how warm you were. You grew in my hands. You became strong in my hands. Until you pleaded me to stop or you would come, you said. But I smiled and continued till your poured out and my fingers, my long fingers would glisten. It always made me laugh, from the pleasure of pleasing you.

But that’s gone and not thought of, no, no longer.

Except when I felt the winds just now, warm winds, caressing my face. We’d stood in the field the last time I felt winds like these. I was frightened someone would see us naked as the moon was full. I was full. My breasts were full. You ran your palm along my cheek, your finger down my neck and told me to stand and not move. Lift your arms, you said. Widen your stance you said. The breezes flowed all around me, enveloped me in warmth. You touched, you kissed, you tasted parts of me and I did not move. I shuddered when the winds chilled the spots where your lips had been. The spots dried in the warm air while you made me pour out, climax after climax, telling me not to move. My stomach contracted, my mouth was dry from the breaths that became a panting. Hush you said. And I bit my lips when you made me collapse into your arms. Your body burned, your breathing coming in quick gasps and you pulled me to the earth. The wild grass stung and I cried out. You kissed me and I cried. You sat back on your feet, and lifted me. You were sorry, you said. You would not hurt me, you said. And you brushed away the wild seeds and lowered your fingers and put your hands under me. You lifted me onto your thighs and entered me. I was wet enough to invited you in with one swoop. I grasped you to my breasts. You licked them and I wondered how you could think of them while inside of me. But you did. I threw my head back and climaxed with such force that you and the ground became wet. You roared, you held onto me, driving into me, till a sound came out of your throat that was more a roar than a groan. I looked down at your face, saw the tears burst into your eyes, and watched your lips dry with the powerful intake of breaths. The winds grew stronger. We were too weak to resist them and were still until you fell from me and I once more poured onto the earth.

Those winds, I felt them just now. But you are not here. You are somewhere, somewhere else. And I close my eyes, and stroke my breasts. I tighten within, empty without you. Empty yet I feel the heat of a dampness that comes whenever I think of you, that night and the winds.

But you’re gone. You’re somewhere. I want the winds to stop, to go away. I so need the feeling of warmth pouring from me. But you are somewhere else. With someone.

Somewhere.

“Front Desk? This is Mackenzie Hollington. I am about to arrive. One moment.”

Mackenzie pressed a button near her armrest.

“Driver! How close are we to The Willows?”

A deep voice came through. “We’re just about there, Madam.”

Mackenzie gave a heavy sigh. “I didn’t ask where we were. When will we get there?”

“We are pulling up to the front of the…”

“Front desk, see that my luggage is sent to my room immediately. No, my secretary is sick or dead, I don’t know. Make sure someone is there to assist me.”

Mackenzie clicked her phone shut.

The evening sun beat off the limo as the bellhop opened the wide, black door. The young man smiled.

“Welcome to The Will…”

Mackenzie climbed out of the car and pushed past him.

“Yes, fine.”

The hotel Manager greeted her as she entered.

“Welcome again Ms. Hollington. We have the Presidential suite waiting for you.”

Mackenzie stopped and turned.

“Presidential? I don’t use the Presidential Suite. What is wrong with you?”

The Manager knew that everyone in the lobby heard her but no one stopped or turned. Guests at The Willows did not entertain confrontation, especially in public. In her high heels, Mackenzie was a head taller than the Manager. He shrank as he bobbed his head from left to right and put out his open palms.

“Ms. Hollington, the Royal Suite is currently occupied by the Prime Minister of…”

“Never mind.”

They went to the private elevators. She entered and barked out to the Manager who stood before the brushed gold doorframe.

“Make sure a valet is waiting for me. My secretary isn’t here. Just do it.”

The doors closed and the Manager stared at his reflection, face flushed, brow creased. He clicked a number on his cell phone and whispered quick, sharp instructions. And then he smiled.

Mackenzie tapped her foot on the marble surface, stared at the lights indicating the passing of each floor, and then at her watch. The soft bell chimed when she reached the 20th floor.

At her suite, a tall man, dressed in a dark suit with the hotel logo on the pocket, opened the door. She walked past him to the living room, threw her jeweled handbag onto the plush sofa, kicked off her shoes and flung them to the wall. A Picasso hung over them.

“Get it cooler in here. It’s stifling. And call downstairs. I need someone to help me.”

The tall man turned to her. He stood at attention with his arms behind his back.

“With special orders by the Manager, I am your butler, Madam. Your clothes are presently being put away by a maid. She will leave by the other door so as not to disturb you. Please let me know what you wish. We have anything you may need. This is, after all, The Willows.”

Mackenzie snorted. She was about to remove her jacket when the butler gave a faint cough.

“What is it?”

“Madam, a silk robe is on the bed. I can draw your bath if you wish.”

She placed her Rolex and diamond rings onto the cocktail table. The butler came forward and helped her with the jacket. His fingers grazed the top of her shoulders and halfway down her arms. He hung it neatly on a side chair. Mackenzie laughed.

“Well, finally, this is more like it. Guess your Manager brought out the big guns with a butler instead of just a valet. I didn’t get the Royal Suite, you know. But what do you care? You just work here.”

The Butler did not move.

“Yes, go ahead, run the bath. Go do something.”

Mackenzie followed him into the bedroom and watched the tall man walk across the plush carpet to the bathroom. There were sounds of jetting water and the smell of lavender. The Butler returned to the bedroom. Once more, he stood tall with arms behind his back.

“Shall I help you, Madam? I am here to serve you in every way. This is, after all, The Willows.”

“Yes, turn down the bed. Meanwhile, I need a soothing bath after that horrible flight.” Mackenzie opened her cream-colored blouse. “Imagine the bumps and those air pockets. Ach, never mind, you don’t fly anywhere.”

The Butler ironed down the open covers with his broad hands and fluffed several of the soft pillows.

“True Madam but I understand your distress. Is there anything else you need? Please do not hesitate. I have certain instructions regarding the looking out for your welfare.”

Mackenzie smirked and watched him while she removed her blouse. The butler looked away and her grin faded. Mackenzie slowly unzipped her skirt and let it slide down her long, slender legs. She kicked it toward the butler’s feet. He lifted it, shook it straight and laid it over the top of a side lounge. Mackenzie stared at him and licked her lips.

“So, you’re to do anything for me, is that it?”

He turned and looked only at her eyes.

“Yes Madam. Anything you wish, within the scope of my duties, of course. This is, after all, The Willows.”

“Then come here. Get me out of this.”

Her white lace teddy ran high on her thighs, hugged her waist, but did not have bra cups, leaving her hard breasts to stand on their own. The Butler ran his fingers under the straps, lifted them and ran them down her arms. He bent forward, peeling the lace down her body and to her ankles. Mackenzie put her hand onto his thick hair, held her balance, and lifted each foot until the butler held the teddy in his hands. She took away her hand and he stood. His lack of expression made her press her lips against her teeth.

“Help me into the bath. It better not be slippery.”

“No Madam. Never. This is, after all, The…”

“Yes, yes, The Willows. Just follow me. And don’t look at my ass. It takes money to get one this tight.”

The butler turned off the blasts of water and held her hand while Mackenzie stepped into the wide tub.

“My instructions allow me to help you with your bath. Here are imported soaps and a natural sponge. Do you need assistance, Madam?”

Mackenzie’s eyebrows shot up. She laid back, the water reaching just under her high, round breasts. She smiled for the first time.

“Yes. Let’s see if a butler knows his job at The Willows.”

The butler rubbed lavender soap onto the sponge, working up the bubbles. He held her arm high, dabbed the sponge from hand to shoulder and placed it back into the steaming water. He did the same with the other. Carefully, he dabbed her neck and chest.

“Excuse me, Madam, while I wash each breast.”

He spread the tiny, sparkling bubbles over and under, lightly touching each breast, bringing the nipples to a stand. With a cupped hand, he brought waves of water across each breast, careful not to splash her and ran his hands around each, removing stray bubbles.

“Madam, would it be impolite to keep my hands on them for a moment, to keep the nipples from the cold air?”

Mackenzie’s voice was low.

“Do your job.”

“Policy demands that I remove my clothing before becoming stained. Does Madam allow me a free hand?”

She eyed his uniform. The bulge made his pants taut and the zipper protrude.

“Yes damn it. Let’s get on with it.”

The butler stood. Mackenzie shuddered when he removed his hands and the cold air rushed across her breasts. He removed his jacket, shirt, and pants. He kicked off his shoes. She was surprised to see he wore no underthings or socks. His member stood hard and long.

“I may now continue to assist you.”

Mackenzie closed her eyes and breathed in the warm waves of air from the water. Again, he ran his hands across her chest.

“Would Madam wish them sucked, only to keep them warm?”

Mackenzie nodded. He took each in his mouth and drew them in until she purred. He ran his hands down her slender waist. He took the sponge and washed lower. He let go of the sponge and ran his hands over the soft skin between her legs. His mouth let go of the plump breast.

“I will wash within now, Madam.”

He ran his fingers in and out of her, making little swishing noises in the water. Mackenzie quivered. Her movements sent waves splashing up and out of the wide tub. The butler removed his hand. Mackenzie’s eyes flashed open.

“Don’t stop fool.”

“Madam I have strict rules of what my service includes. I am only allowed to assist in your bathing and I have done that.”

Mackenzie’s brow tried to crease. Her foot slipped as she pulled herself forward. She put out her hand to him.

“Get me out of this tub. Who’d they make this for? Attila?”

He pulled her up and she stepped out of the tub. The butler enfolded her with a kitten-soft towel. He helped her dry herself, first at her neck, then breasts, down her back and rear, then slowly down her legs and in between.

“I need help getting to bed. Help me.”

He lifted her off the floor. She felt his manhood under her behind, hard as a plank of wood holding her up. The butler sat her on the bed and stood at attention. She let the towel slip off until it spilled around her. Mackenzie’s damp skin let off little rainbow colors in the many small lights that glowed above her bed. The butler did not move.

“Well, don’t stand there. Come closer. I want you here.”

He did not look down and stood with his hands behind his back, as if still in full uniform.

“Madam, it would be my pleasure to enter you but I cannot. There are explicit instructions which I must follow. After all, this is The Willows.”

Mackenzie grabbed him by his hips and pulled him forward.

“You’ll do as I say and not this crummy hotel. Come here I tell you.”

“I am sorry Madam. I can certainly leave myself exposed for your pleasure but I cannot go further. I must do as I am ordered.”

“You’ll do as I say.”

Mackenzie grabbed hold of the pulsating flesh protruding before her. She ran her soft hands along its length forcing the butler to jerk and break into a sweat. The more she played with him, the more he bucked and licked his lips.

“I will show you who is boss.”

With that, Mackenzie brought him to her mouth and devoured the thick mass. She choked and tears flowed from her eyes but she continued, keeping pace with his moans. She rubbed and licked and pulled, meanwhile stroking the tip with a finger. The butler held his arms out and his knees bent under her onslaught.

“Madam please. I am not allowed to enter. It is not fair for me to receive this punishment.”

Mackenzie smiled but her eyes did not.

“I’ll show you fair.”

She continued sucking until the butler all but screamed out. Mackenzie popped him out of her mouth, bringing him to a climax that made him spray across her neck and breasts. He poured out until it ran down her taut stomach and onto her lap. She released him and wiped her hands, breasts and thighs on the towel. The butler choked for breath and struggled to stand.

“Now leave. I need sleep. Go on. Get your clothes and go. But be back tomorrow. Tell them I said you had to be here. Don’t worry. I’ll save your job for you. Go.”

Mackenzie slid under the cool cotton cover and fell asleep.

After brunch Mackenzie strolled to the front desk. She crooked a finger to the woman behind the desk.

“Come here. I need a name.”

The young woman stared at her.

“Madam?”

Mackenzie blew air out of her pursed, red lips.

“A name. Don’t you understand English? I want the name of the butler.”

“What butler, Madam.”

“Are you stupid? The butler assigned to my room yesterday.”

“I’m sorry Madam but we do not have butlers at The Willows. Perhaps a bellboy assisted you. Is that possible?”

Mackenzie let out a harsh laugh.

“Bellboy? Are you mad? I wouldn’t have one near me. Never mind. I’ll speak to the Manager, and I’ll ask that you be fired.”

Mackenzie turned and saw the Manager standing at the far end of the arrival area. Next to him was a tall man who stood with his arms behind his back. They both smiled to her and gave a short bow. She realized the tall man was unquestionably wearing a mere bellboy’s uniform. Mackenzie’s eyes shot open. When her mouth opened with a silent scream, the men shook hands and stifled a laugh.

The girl at the front desk leaned forward.

“Is there anything else we can do for you Madam? We are, after all, The Willows.”

Gang knocked twice on the open door to my work area, a signal between us that the intrusion was important enough to enter. He bowed.

“Excuse the interruption but a runner is outside the walls. He will not give me a letter to you, a parchment of lowly quality which has no seal.”

I wiped my hands from the devices which the Emperor enjoyed using with his concubines. It was my duty to survey if the jade, ivory, or animal skinned rings, which he occasionally used to surround and hold his stalk, were broken or cracked, and did not hold any dried emissions left on them from the last bedding.

Gang followed me out to the palace walls. Two guards held unsheathed swords and stood beside the runner. By their stance, they could cut off the runner’s head with one swipe. He was bent onto one knee and lifted the folded parchment over his bowed head. I took it without looking at him, shaded it from the sun with my body and read. I stopped, read it twice over and crumpled it in my hands. Gang ran over and stood three paces away from me, near enough to help but not hinder. I gasped for air and Gang took one step closer.

“Are you in need? Do you want water?”

I waved him away and he stepped back. I did not want to see him or anyone. I did not want to hear the trees shivering in the breezes or hear guards shouting while on duty. I clenched the creased item until my fingers throbbed with each pulse beat. With arms outstretched, I warded off anyone in my path. My arms lowered only when I reached my chambers and opened the door. Pain ran from my shoulders and down my back. I read the parchment once more, lit a match and watched it burn. My mother was dead.

Li put his hand onto my shoulder, waited and returned to the seat before me.

“Go home. A carriage will take you. Your family moved to a large house after you were brought here.”

I smirked and stared at the floor.

“Yes, after he sold me, he took the money and gave himself a better life. A large house? My Father picked well, a house near the green hills, I am sure. Did he take another wife as well, to show his vast good fortune? The fortune bought from my pain. The fortune bought with my treasures being removed and put into a small bag that hangs at my waist. I am sure he sneered at my Mother when, if, she mentioned my name. He knew I wasn’t his child, I am sure of that. He made her life a misery. He never worked but he dreamed. Oh, how he dreamed and he beat us when a scheme did not succeed. How he must have laughed when the cash was put in his hand.”

“Long, stop.”

I ran my fingers through my hair, loosened the tight knot, lifted my head, and ground my teeth.

“Tell me Li, why did he live? Why does he remain to eat fruits and drink wine when all my Mother wanted was to live in peace and love me?”

I paced the room, rubbed my hands, clenched them, and beat my legs. Li grabbed my shoulders. He held me at arm’s length.

“Stop. This does not bring her back. Settle things by going home.”

“That is not my home. A hut, where I played and slept on rags, that was my home. I will not enter his house. I would rather sleep with dogs.”

Li held onto me with stronger hands than I imagined he could have. His voice rang out.

“Enough. Go, or you will regret it. Go. Find your peace.”

I decided I would be with my siblings the last day of the mourning period and hopefully Father would disappear by then. He did not mourn my loss those years ago and I did not believe he mourned Mother who had suffered his torment and ridicule for so long. In the meantime, I worked.

Nine virgins stood poised along the wall of the teaching room. Nine concubine women stood next to them. The concubines assisted in the lessons and today I needed each. I pointed to the nine slender beds and clapped my hands with an unintentional boom that sounded throughout the room. Even my eyes opened while the virgins jerked and gasped. I cleared my throat and waved them on. Each concubine grasped the arm of her student and led her to a bed. With tight lips, an older twenty-year-old concubine named Ting dared to peek to me. She knew me from when she herself was a virgin and taught the ways of the Emperor’s bed. I would deal with her later. My breath came hard and my eyes burned dry. I began the lesson.

“There are ten ways of moving during mating. Follow what I say and take that position. A concubine will sit before you, your legs straddled over hers, your V’s close but not touching. Now, the first is an embrace. This will be the only time you will touch the Emperor without his permission. It is allowed and you will bring yourself from the lying position. You will raise yourselves without using your hands. Then extend your arms gracefully, with one hand on the Emperor’s shoulder, another at the back of the neck. Do this several times without pulling the consort toward you. You must lift without difficulty.”

The virgins put their arms around the necks and shoulders of the women. I adjusted one who held her concubine far too close. The girls tried this position several times. Some lost their balance. My hands smacked together and the girls recoiled.

“Can you not raise yourselves without looking like a newborn pup trying to lift itself to its mother’s teat?”

After an hour, the girls moved with elegance though many squinted from pain while their stomachs and legs contracted from lifting themselves so often. I thought of the pain I felt when the doctors held me down on the cutting table the day I arrived. My skin crawled but I shook my head and carried on.

“This is the second move. Stretch your legs wide. It tells the Emperor that you wish him to stroke the button above your V. Concubines, touch with ease and continue to massage.”

Each woman lowered her fingers to the opposite girl and slid their thumbs along the buttons or gently rubbed them in light movements. The virgins trembled, some shivered, from the touch. Within moments four of the girls groaned. I looked at the other five.

“Where are your moans and cries? You have learned the Emperor must hear your passion. Do you not sense the finger playing with you? If not, you will be exchanged for another. Try again, and then again.”

Ting nodded her head and went back to the business of touching the virgin. For a moment I regretted pushing the girls but the feeling passed quickly when I envisioned myself riding to my father’s house the next day. I passed each bed and watched and listened. One girl did not respond to the touches. My voice bellowed and resounded throughout the room.

“You, leave. Bring another and I will wipe your name off from the list and send you home. Go!”

Tears burst from her eyes and she covered her open mouth but she did not stand. She moaned and held her hands out to me.

“Please, I beg you. I will try again, only, only you frighten me. Please do not be angry with me. Do not punish me. I will try. I will…I wi…”

I walked away but turned back.

“If you are frightened of me, what will you feel with the Emperor? Look at the consort and think that it is a person in front of you. Not me. Not an Emperor. Only a person you have never spoken to before. Now, try again.”

The consort licked her thumb and rubbed in circles on the girl’s button, slowly at first but quickened as the girl’s breaths came deeper and stronger. With one resounding moan, the girl released her essence and landed backward onto the bed, shivering yet smiling. I paced before them, unable to stand in one place. My face was hot and my fingers cold. Pictures of the corner where Mother cooked came to mind and I closed my eyes. That little corner was where she served us comfort and love. I blinked several times and cleared my throat. It was almost noon. I would leave this night for the long journey. My Father had picked well, a house near the hills, I was told. My lips pressed against my teeth. The oppressing heat drifted from my collar and the smell of sweat galled me.

“Third, distend your belly forward. This will allow shallow thrusts by the Emperor. The concubines will hold a tool which resembles the Emperor’s shaft against you. They will move it up and down at your entrance to make you used to the feel of the Emperor when he is about to enter you. Do not flinch or shift forward. You are to lie still for this, just as you will wait for the Emperor’s stalk to pierce you.”

The girls all laid back, legs wide. Some pressed into the bed, finally able to relax their aching bodies. I wondered if Father gave his new wife a soft bed while Mother had slept on a wood slat covered in ragged lengths of cloth. I could not take the picture out of my mind.

“Begin. Bring the tool around the entrance, as if you were painting swirls of wind on soft paper. Slowly work toward the entrance of the V and proceed to the rim, then back again. Around, almost in, and around. Continue.”

Did Father take just one wife? Most likely he had taken two. How else could he show his wealth? Certainly not by me, the ‘skinny one’ who he thought had disappeared from his life. But he would see me again and the thought sent chills across my skin. My head was icy and my forehead damp from sweat. I reached the bed where Ting worked tenderly on a girl.

“What is wrong with you? Do not be so gentle. You know the Emperor will not be concerned if it pains her. Press along her V. Make her feel something is about to enter.”

Ting peered at me but went back to the girl and moved the tool with more fervor. The image of my Father piercing a new wife flashed in my mind.

“Quicker. Do you believe he thinks of her pain? He will press her legs so that she cannot move. If he wanted, he could then have servants come in and hold her down by her feet, shoulders, and belly. And he will rip in. Her screams will enhance his entrance until his essence explodes into her.”

My voice echoed and faded. No one moved. A lone bird chirped outside the window but only once. The room was silent but for my gasping breaths. Sweat ran down my burning face. I rushed out the door.

Li looked out the window and I waited for his reprimand but none came. I clutched the sides of the wooden chair and thought my fingers bled. My words stumbled out.

“I almost hurt her. I could not stop. All I thought was that Father lay with a woman who he could not love but she was there, in the comfort he afforded her. But not my mother. I cannot remove these thoughts of him.”

I bent forward, clutched my head and grasped my damp hair. Li came to my side. His steps were so silent, I flinched when his shoes were at the toes of mine.

“Do not wait for nightfall to leave. Go. It will take hours of riding. Sleep in the carriage. You will arrive for dawn. See your family, pray for your mother, and then sit with your father. Face him or you will be tormented for the rest of your life.”

I nodded and went to my room to gather my things. Along the garden path I kicked a stone but it only bounced off a jasmine tree and landed with a dull thud. I scowled and wanted to yell, but only shook my head and walked on.

The sun rose and made the green fields gleam, fields that surrounded my father’s house which now stood before me. He had the audacity to build it facing southward, implying power. Exceedingly long, upturned eaves jutted out along the roof, protecting his sanctuary from rain and snow.

The sound of my rushing blood flooded my ears. My chest contracted and the pain made my hand come up to keep my heart from bursting.

Two slaves ran to the carriage but I did not move, did not open the door, nor could I breathe. Air forced itself in and I took a gulp. Smaller homes, which surely were for my brothers and sisters, surrounded the sprawling house. Unfastened fabrics waved in the windows from the morning breezes. No one was awake yet. I stared at the servants rather than look at father’s house.

“Where is my Mother’s burial site?”

The two short men bowed several times. One pointed to the east.

“It is far but along this road, near the pebbled grounds.”

Fire burned my body. He had buried my Mother in hard earth. My words were slow and hoarse.

“Wake my siblings. Tell them to come, now, to the site. Go!”

The men ran to the smaller homes while my carriage drove on until the land turned from green to brown.

I saw the burial stone. There was no structure for her soul to rest in or a table where offerings would be laid out for her, only a worn slab where her name could hardly be seen. I leapt from the carriage before it stopped and stumbled forward until I grasped onto the stone. Tears burst from my eyes. She was my support even in death.

Carriages raced and stopped behind me. My sisters and brothers, dressed in white mourning garb, ran to me but stopped. My oldest brother spoke first and looked at my silvery silken robes.

“Long, are you too great for us? May we still call you brother?”

I smiled and held out my arms. They all came forward, the girls hugging me, the boys patting my shoulders. We spread out and surrounded the small grave. My oldest sister kissed my cheek and grasped my arm.

“It is the last day of mourning. It is good you are here. Mother became so weak after she came to live in father’s house. He demanded she be a grand lady but she would go to the kitchen and cook for all of us. We found her, at the servant’s table, a bowl of hot soup untouched. There were tears on her lashes.”

My sisters cried. My brothers looked everywhere but at each other, or me. I called to the driver and turned to my family.

“I will be back again to have a proper burial shrine made for Mother where her soul can find peace. She will have in death what she was refused in life. But now, I will go to father. Stay here and say your prayers. Do not return home, not yet.”

One small servant opened the wide front doors for me and bowed several times but I pushed him aside. I walked past rooms, opening each door with a loud bang as they hit the walls. Each was empty but for an abundance of decorations. Finally, two wood doors with gold handles stood at the end of the far hall. I squeezed them and pushed the doors forward.

My father’s eyes widened and his mouth opened in a large circle. He slid from his high bed and sauntered over to me until he was in the middle of the broad room. I turned away as he stood naked, smiled, and put out both arms. Rather than embrace me, he pointed to the far walls.

“So, here is my lucky charm. Look at what you brought me. This house is grand, is it not? Go, see each room with their carvings and great paintings. There are doors of the finest woods. And rare porcelain vases. Oh, very expensive but they are beautiful, are they not? There is one at each window. Not to show off my…our…wealth, but to have others see what great fortune could bring them, as you brought fortune to me.”

He walked to one of the wide, latticed windows. Rather than the thick paper overlays used to shield rooms against the elements, this window was adorned with silks and loosely woven fabrics.

I walked with such ease as if my feet were above the floor. I could have smirked at the pretentious wealth but rather, my breaths came faster while I thought of the extravagance.

“And mother? How did you take care of mother?”

He raised his brows and smirked.

“Well, she was good, until we came here. She could not accustom herself to finery. So of course, I took another wife, but only to warm my bed. Your Mother should not have cried for that.”

For the first time, I looked at his pale plump body and walked around him. He continued to speak with such candor, such arrogance. With hands of ice, I lifted a sculpted incense burner from a wide polished table and weighed it in my hands. He dug his fingers into his now plump waist and laughed.

“What? Do you want to hit me? Oh no, boy, you cannot be angry. I heard eunuchs lose their strength and get soft and…”

He stopped. Perhaps it was from my grimacing stare or how my fingers squeezed the burner until they bled. I stared at his pale, fat face and for the first time in my life, I saw fear. My mind reeled. I realized our statuses and strengths were forever changed. I had power and stature. I had the influence. My Father was weak and only momentarily wealthy. The realization roared in my head. I blinked, breathed in gulps of air, and burst into laughter. He could never hurt me again. I tossed the burner to the floor. Several wood planks cracked and chipped.

“Father, no. I will not hit you. And I did not lose my strength. That occurs to younger boys, ten-year-olds. You brought me to the palace at seventeen. You waited too long for me to ever be weak. And now, now I have prominence and authority. Oh yes, as Chief Eunuch, I have more influence than you realize.” I put out my arms and pointed to each wall, painting, and the large porcelain. “In fact, I have enough power to take all this away from you. My brothers and sisters will keep their homes but this, this will cease to exist. You gasp? You thought no one could touch you? Oh father. Wait.”

My cloak swirled behind me as I turned and took long strides toward the doors. His wide feet slapped onto the bright shining floor as he ran after me. His voice was high, almost a shriek.

“Now wait, wait. We can speak.”

I continued to walk and did not bother to turn.

“Do not worry father. I will make sure to keep a grave for you. Near the stony grounds.”

His voice rang down the hallway.

“Wait, let me dress. We will talk. I will make a new grave for your mother. A fine one. With a table, and we will bring offerings, and…”

His voice faded while I walked briskly across the courtyard. I spotted a stone on the path and, with all my might, I kicked it toward the house. It flew through the lattice window followed by a blast of shattering porcelain. Father’s screams pierced the morning air, much as my laughter rang out while I entered my carriage and rode away.

My hands were icy and damp. My voice hoarse when I called out to the driver.

“Continue to Old Dragon’s Head, where the Great Wall meets the sea.”

We drove for hours until the carriage stopped. I jumped out and walked alone until I reached the edge of the mighty wall.

I breathed in the brisk air. My nostrils flared and my chest burned as a fire waited to burst forth.

The waves crashed but dared not splash onto me.

The wind swirled but did not have the courage to dry my eyes.

I raised my arms, clenched my fist, and shouted out to the ebb and flow of the water.

“I am Long, Chief Eunuch of the Emperor’s Harem. Hear me waters. Hear me wind. Scream my name to the sky and say, I am the dragon.”