Story

I watched her from afar, for the longest of times before even daring to approach her. Shelley was one of those women, those vivacious, joyous souls, whose sheer presence seemed to light up a room. She wasn't a classic beauty; her cheeks were a little too full, and her hair shone a brilliant red, not gold. Her eyes were a shadowy gray-blue color, not the brilliant clear blue of sapphires, or the startling green of jade. Her waist was a bit full, and her stature shorter than my own six foot height. In short, she was no Helen of Troy, and would probably never be so in anyone else's eyes.

But to me, her beauty put even the Goddess Venus to shame.

I watched her from afar, as I said, watching her come and go, seeing her laugh and joke with her friends and co-workers. I followed her discreetly as she traveled to and fro, learning of her habits, where she shopped, what she liked to eat, where she lived... all the small personal things you could possibly learn about a person without actually speaking with them.

Looking back on my actions, I have to say that I was out of my mind, acting like a stalker, or some crazed psychopathic maniac. The easiest and best way would have surely been to walk up to her and strike up a conversation, and go from there. But I couldn't risk rejection. I had felt that bitter sting many times before, the last being the hardest. I couldn't cope with such another bitter disappointment. So, I continued on as I did, spying on the woman who had enchanted me.

Perhaps I would have continued on this pathway, worshiping her from afar, had not fate conspired to bring us both together. It was Tuesday, the day that Shelley sprinted home right after work to don her work out apparel, and head in to the gym uptown to work her already fabulous figure closer to her own idea of perfection. She had just entered her building, stopping at her mailbox to check her mail, when I stepped out from the shadows behind the side of the building, to watch her. She was as ravishing as always. So taken was I with her appearance that I did not notice the bike rider barreling down upon me. I turned just as he rammed into me, knocking me flat on my back, hard. I let out a loud groan, and a muffle curse, as I heard and felt something break.

"Oh my God!" I looked up through pain-ridden eyes to see my Goddess, Shelley, peering down at me. "Are you alright? That damn kid rode right into you." I glanced to the side, where I saw the rider, recovered from the collision, pedal off as fast as he could, glancing back worriedly for signs of pursuit. Shelley sighed. "Lousy street punks. His mother obviously didn't teach him any manners. Are you okay, sir? Can you stand?"

I leaned forward, trying to raise up, but the shooting pain in my left arm made my eyes roll back into my head when I put pressure on it. I groaned and lay back, still. "Arm... hurts..." I panted softly, clutching my ravaged limb with my other hand. "Think... its broken..."

Shelley eyed it critically. "Yeah. I can see the edge poking out through the skin. It's definitely broken. Hold still, and I'll set it for you. Then we'll be able to move you out of the street." I bit down hard on my lip to keep from crying out, and when the pain and nausea had passed, she had not only reset the bone, but had applied an elementary split to keep it in place. "Okay. Now, lean on me, and let's get you back on your feet."

I groaned again, my arm throbbing painfully with the sudden rush of blood as I regained my feet. Then, I looked and saw her, Shelley, standing only a few inches away from me, her hands holding me, supporting me, and suddenly the pain seemed secondary. I swallowed thickly, trying to find my voice.

"Th... than... thank you," I said, almost saying her name. I barely had the presence of mind to keep that to myself, not wanting to answer a lot of awkward questions about how I knew her name when we had never actually met before. I managed a weak smile, and she smiled back in return... though somehow I perceived that her smile was a knowing one, with a hint of amusement, at somehow sensing my discomfort and delighting in it... almost as if she knew the reason for it.

"Come on," she said, gently, leading me up towards her building. "My car is parked just around the corner. I'll drive you to the doctor and let him take a look at that arm. It'll probably end up in a cast for a few weeks at least until it heals. Oh, I'm Shelley, by the way."

I smiled again, this time a real smile. "Hi. Jonothan. Glad to know you, Shelley. And thanks."

She chuckled softly, helping me into the front seat. "Well I can't say it's good that you broke your arm," she said smirking, as she drove along the highway, "but at least we finally have the chance to meet face to face. I've been wondering when you would get up the nerve to come strike up a conversation with me."

I went pale. "Uh, um, a, uh, conversation?" I stuttered, my mind working a mile a minute. Had she known I was stalking her all these weeks? I had been so careful, never staring directly at her, at least not when she was faring my direction.

"Oh, don't try and deny that you've been watching me," she continued, amused. "And don't feel so embarrassed about it. I like it. It's very flattering to know that I had a secret admirer all these weeks. Kind of makes me feel special."

I blushed hotly. "Well, um, you are. Special, I mean. Very special. And beautiful." My tongue was spasming, spurting out nonsense, babbling mindlessly. I clamped my jaws shut, blushing even hotter as Shelley laughed at my discomfort.

"I'm sorry," she giggled softly, glancing at me sidelong as she drove. "It's just that it always gets to me when you act so shyly around me."

I blinked. Acted shy around her? When? "Excuse me?" I asked. "When have I ever acted---"

"Oh, well, looks like we're here," Shelley broke in quickly, swerving left into the hospital parking lot without slowing down, slamming me hard into the passenger side door. I grunted, rubbing my head, as she guided the car smoothly into a parking space. "Here we are," she repeated, shutting off the engine. "Would you like me to come in with you, or would you rather I stayed out here and waited for you to come back out?"

"Well, actually... you mean, you would wait here for me to be treated?"

Shelley shrugged. "Well, of course. I couldn't just go off and leave you here to fend for yourself! Besides, you didn't drive here, And you live, er, LIKELY live, all the way across town. How else would you get back home?"

She had a good point. "Well, then, if you wouldn't mind, just wait here for me. I don't have an appointment, so this might take a while." She nodded, leaning her seat back, and switching on the radio, closed her eyes.

For the next few weeks, I pondered over this strange turn of events. I had a six week leave of absence from my job while the fracture healed, so I spent most of my time at home, resting. Shelley called upon me a number of times, to 'check up on me', as she claimed to be doing. I didn't particularly care what she called it, I delighted in seeing her, and spending time with her. There was an instant connection between us, and I felt myself missing her terribly when she finally left for the day, eagerly awaiting her next visit.

I was becoming very much obsessed with her now, which suddenly struck me as odd. For a moment, I had a very clear picture of myself, of what I had been doing the past three or four months, and it shocked me. I had first gazed upon Shelley... when? I couldn't quite remember. The very first time I saw her was fuzzy and indistinct, yet I clearly, vividly remembered every fleeting passing glance since then. That I was smitten with her was a fact; she occupied my thoughts both night and day. But when had I fallen for her, this attractive, mesmerizing beauty that until the accident I had never met face to face?

Had it been love at first sight? Surely not. I was at heart a pragmatist as much as a romantic, and though I believed in true love, love-at-first- sight had always seemed too hokey, too fairy tale for me. But... what other explanation could there be?

We often sat together at night and talked, and talked, and talked, about our pasts, about our families and such. Or lack of them. Shelley had been raised an orphan from a very young age. With no mother or father to care for her, she had been bounced around from foster home to foster home, until she turned eighteen. Despite her rough childhood, she blossomed, persevering despite the setbacks life had dealt her, graduating with honors from school, going on to college and getting her degree, finding a good high paying job in advertising, and working her way up the corporate ladder to a moderately comfortable position.

"Kind of a 'small town girl makes good' story, huh?" I said, holding her hand.

"Yeah," she replied distantly, staring out into the night, her mind a jumble of thoughts. "Something like that."

Talking about her past tended to make her melancholy and distant. To brighten the mood, I would change the conversation over to my past. I had lost my mother around age four, so young that I could now barely remember her face. My father did his best to raise me alone, and while I think I turned out alright, I think I missed out on a lot. He worked hard to provide for me, to give me the best clothes, the best toys, the best education. He taught me discipline, how to grow up to be responsible and to be a man, even at an early age. In retrospect, I never really had a childhood, but if I suffered from the lack of it, none of my friends has ever mentioned it. I had graduated within the top ten percent of my class, went on to get a degree in broadcasting from the local university, and was currently working for a new up-and-coming communications conglomerate, Transcorp Communications.

"So, basically, your entire life has been about work and making a name for yourself," Shelley commented. I smirked; talk of my past had brought her back into the conversation, but now she was in a teasing mood. I decided to give as well as I got.

"Well, I wouldn't say that, exactly. Just because I'm the serious, responsible type doesn't mean I can't have fun now and again."

"Oh, really?" she said, arching an eyebrow. She slipped her left foot out of her black leather flats, and rubbed it gently along my bare calf. "And just how do you like to have... fun?"

I bristled. This wasn't exactly where I had wanted the conversation to go. I was still sorting through my feelings about Shelley, trying to accurately gauge what I felt. Attraction, sure. Admiration. Friendship. Of course. But... lust? Was I ready to delve into those murky waters so soon in this relationship? Sure, I admit it, I thought about it. A lot. Usually at night, alone, in bed... with some kind of lubricant. But actually taking that step in real life?

"I, er, well," I said, pulling back a bit. "I was thinking of, you know, sports and such... basketball. Tennis. Volleyball. Yeah, I'm a real fiend on the volleyball court. Do you, um, you ever play?"

Shelley sighed deeply, in obvious frustration. "Not really," she mumbled. "I'm more for singles sports myself... you know, the one-on-one variety?"

I shook my head. "Shelley, I---" I began.

A long tapered finger interposed itself against my lips, silencing me. It left soon thereafter, only to be replaced by a pair of soft, red lips, lips that sucked at my very breath, leaving me weak and dizzy. My eyes fluttered slightly, and my vision dimmed. My body began to heat up dramatically, as if the autumn night had been replaced with a hot summer day. Indeed, it might have very well been daytime, for my eyes were dazzled with bright shining lights.

"You want me, don't you?" Shelley voice floated to me, sounding both very near and very far away.

"I... I..." I stuttered, trying to fight the steady surge of arousal building up within me.

"You NEED me, don't you?" she whispered again, her tongue slithering inside my ear, as she licked and nibbled my ear, driving my passion even higher than before.

Her words rang like a gong inside my skull. They were true, oh God how they were true. I wanted and needed her so much, so badly that I could barely think straight. My head felt fuzzy, and nothing at all made sense, except my overwhelming lust for this beautiful woman. My lips moved again, speaking words that no longer made sense to me, but that I would guess was an affirmative. A soft chuckling laughter was Shelley's response. Her hands began moving all over my body then, touching bare flesh... and I had been wearing clothes only a moment ago, hadn't I? Her soft gentle hands groped my stiffening cock, and those thoughts vanished as well.

A long deep moan of desire left my lips. I wanted. I needed. I desired. My entire world, my entire being hinged on the verge of sexual desire... well, almost all of me. A small part, a single speck in the eye of the hurricane of desire running rampant inside me... one small piece of calm coolness that remained unaffected. That tiny piece, holding fast, acted as an anchor, keeping my fragmenting mind from shattering completely. Something... some important thing, some thought that kept me from surrendering completely to this ever expanding desire.

"What is it?" Shelley's voice came to me again. Her breathing was deep and ragged, and I realized, dimly, that mine was as well. We were fucking, deep and hard, wildly and uninhibitedly. (well mostly) "Why don't you just let go? Why? Jonothan... just let it go, and cum for me. Just cum, and be mine... forever."

I wanted to. God, how I wanted to. My mouth opened and closed, and tears ran down my sightless eyes. My body bucked like a bronco, bouncing Shelley's lovely enticing body up and down on my steel-stiff cock. I was holding back, resisting her charms, resisting my own body's deep seeded need to cum. Just barely. And that control was slipping by the second. I had to hold on--- why?--- but I could only take so much.

"Cum for me," Shelley murmured in my ear again... directly in my mind. "Stop holding back... and let go.... NOW!"

It was a direct command, a Voice in my head, speaking with power, and my beleaguered exhausted willpower could not resist. I came. Hard. Deep inside her. I let loose with a mighty roar as I came, slamming my hips hard into Shelley's with each massive thrust, telegraphing the extent of my pleasure in the most brutal and primal of ways. At last I froze there, my back arched, my manhood touching the very core of her womanhood, as the very dregs of my pleasure released itself into her. Sated, blissfully happy, I slumped back to the bed, groaning softly.

"Oh... wow... that... was... fucking... great..." I panted softly, cuddling Shelley's sweat-soaked body to my own. She twitched, but didn't respond. Weakly, I lifted my head, peering down at my silent lover. Her eyes were wide, and glassy, and a smile was etched across her face. "Shelley? Love, are you okay?" Worry began to cut through the thick foggy contentment flooding me, and the events of moments ago came back to me with startling clarity.

"Oh. Shit." I said aloud.

Luckily, we had been outside in my back yard, near the porch swing when the episode occurred. My backyard had a high wooden fence along its borders, back from the days when the previous owners had kept a dog. I had no pets, and had never thought much about the fence at all. At the moment, however, as I carried my insensate lover and myself, both nude, into my house, into the bedroom, I was very very glad of the high vision-blocking fence.

I laid Shelley gently down on the bed, and, knowing it would be several minutes before she roused, went to the shower to bathe. I let the waters wash down on me, letting them soak through my confusion, and my guilt, letting the warmth consume me, until I could think of what to do now with what had happened.

Shelley had enspelled me. By some means I know not of, she had put me in her spell, making me desire her above all others. That fact was obvious, now that my head was clear enough to read all the signs. I felt that I had seen her somewhere before, that we had met a previous time, but that I couldn't quite recall it. Afterwards, I had been unbearably smitten with her, forced to follow her around like a puppy dog on a leash, learning bits and pieces about her life, working up my courage to finally approach her. The incident with the biker had brought things to a head, but the end result was the same: he had spent many weeks together, growing closer, and more intimate, until tonight, tired of my resistance to her advances, she had forced the issue, bringing the matter to a head.

Perhaps I should have felt angry, or upset, at having been manipulated into this. Maybe I should have felt used and debased. Strangely, it didn't matter much to me at all. Either her control over me had faltered when she was pushed into unconsciousness, or... or maybe she had intended for me to know the whole truth after the fact, once we were bound inexorably to one another. That's how it seemed; despite what she had tried to do, I still loved her, even more so than before.

Still, a quandary lay before me now. She had used her charms, her mojo, her magic or whatever, to ensnare me. I loved and admired her for it, but now that I realized what was going on, I would have to take steps to limit her influence over me. Obviously, I didn't intend to be Shelley's love=thrall, a mindless automaton, a living sex-toy for her to please herself with. What I wanted had to be more... equal. I wanted someone I could be with, talk to, love completely and honestly, without having to watch what I said or did, to know that we loved and respected each other so completely that nothing would ever tear us apart.

Call me a hopeless romantic if you want. I consider it a compliment.

Stepping out of the shower, I glanced at myself in the mirror while I toweled myself dry. For the moment, I had the upper hand. Shelley had been so centered and focused on her role in this seduction, and the use of her own strange power over me to realize the power my body was exerting over her. Sliding on a T-shirt and a pair of clean underwear, I strode back into the bedroom and sat down next to my sleeping lover.

It had first struck at age sixteen. My dad, bless the old codger, had decided on my sixteenth birthday that I was a man. I had a permit, so legally I could drive. I could smoke (back then, anyway, before the new smoking laws) and although I had two more years to go before I could legally drink alcohol, my dad considered me close enough to further insure my manhood in the most classic and most intimate of ways. He took me to a brothel, a house of ill repute, the likes of which my adolescent mind could not have imagined. I was nervous, extremely nervous; I didn't want to go through with it, but the old man had insisted. So I followed Madame Tamara back into the velvet clad room, and allowed her to teach me the birds and the bees. I was scared, somewhat resistant, at first, but after a few false starts (ahem) I began to enjoy it. I was nearing my climax, about to let go, physically, when I felt something else inside me 'let go'.

It was kind of a mental thing... a stretching, or tearing, of some kind. For an instant, it was as if I had separated from my body, like a ghost looking down on the scene from above. Just for that instant, like the strobe flash of a camera. Then it was over. I bucked hard and deep as my climax bent me nearly double, shooting my pleasure deep inside the lovely box of Madame Tamara. She gasped as well, throwing back her head, eyes wide with surprise, and... something else. She clenched tight to me, matching my wild bucking thrusts, and began moaning, and mumbling soft nonsensical words to me, falling into a soft chant of "ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod," getting steadily louder and louder, until she was all but screaming it from the top of her lungs. I froze, stunned at this strange turn of events. I new very little of such things at that age, but I did know that such... women, were usually jaded, very used to sex, which was, after all their profession, and that it was rather unusual to have such an animated reaction to sex with a virtual novice, a fucking virgin! I wasn't overly large, or very adept in my technique. I had no idea what I was doing. Yet, I could feel Tamara cumming like a cracked dam below me, writhing wildly, screaming her pleasure. Scared, confused, I pulled out of her, trying to escape the bed, needing some space, but she reached out and pulled me back to her, crying, begging, pleading with me to continue.

"Please!" she had begged, tearfully, her naked, sweat-soaked body writhing with need. "Please... ohmygod... don't stop! Don't go! PLEASE! I need you, need you here, inside me! Please! Oh, oh, oh, oh God!! UUUHHNNNNGGGHHHH!!" She shuddered, nearly blacking out. Trying to push away from her, I had placed a hand on her hips, and my fingers had just grazed her wet dripping snatch. Apparently that contact alone had been enough to send her back into spasms of sexual ecstasy. I watched, fascinated, never having seen such a sight before in my wildest of imaginations. Madame Tamara was enthralled by me, made a slave of the passions my touch evoked in her. She had BEGGED me to take her again, to enter her soft places and FUCK her brains out. For a sixteen year old boy, it was like suddenly discovering the power of King Midas. Needless to say, with confidence restored, I returned to the game, sending Tamara, and myself, to new levels of pleasure.

I do not know exactly what it was, whether it was some special chemical enzyme or secretion from my body emitted the brief instant before I cum, or whether it is something mental, some kind of mind-controlling power, something that only releases during the stress and passionate tension formed during sex. Whatever it is, it is extremely powerful, and, as I found out with Madame Tamara, very addicting. At sixteen, I had energy and stamina galore. We fucked for the entire two hour session, stopping in the end only when the Madame of the brothel began pounding on the door, wanting to know if everything was alright. Far from it. Tamara was no so smitten with me, she had declared herself my slave, willing to do anything I asked, ANYTHING, if only she could stay with me, and have constant glorious sex with me for the rest of our lives. Some scary shit for a kid to hear. I ended up being banned from the Brothel. Tamara had to be taken to a hospital--- the mental kind--- and after several months of deep intensive psychotherapy, she had recovered enough that she begin to live a rather normal life again. Still, sex of any kind no longer interested her, unless it was with me. Last I heard, she had become Sister Tamara, joining a nunnery up in New York.

I gazed down at the girl lying before me now, my sweet beautiful Shelley. I had felt that same mental tug, the same temporary feeling of displacement I had experienced with Tamara, and a few others since her. I had since vowed never to get into a sexual relationship with anyone unless I was sure she was the One, the person I wanted to marry and spend the rest of my life with. Caressing the soft gentle face lying limp before me, I asked myself, was she the One?

She roused, moaning softly, her eyes fluttering open. I stared into them, looking deep into her smoky, blue-gray eyes, seeing the soft cloudy fog of our sex still swirling up within them. "Hello, sweetheart," I said softly, kissing her gently. The contact with my lips was electric; a deep moan issued forth, pushing its way past our tightly sealed lips as her hips raised to meet my own. Despite my own control of the situation, I felt my manhood begin to stir. Down, boy, I thought to myself, willing the growing erection to still. I broke the kiss, shaking my head, waving a finger before her eyes. "Uh, uh, uh," I chided her softly, a smirk on my face. "I know what you're doing, Shelley dear, and its not going to work this time. I have a few ground rules before we can continue." I slid a hand between her legs, finding the wet warm center of her, and teased it lovingly with a single finger. Her body froze, locking position so stiffly, I had trouble removing my finger again.

"Ahhh... ggggaaawwdddd... what did... uuuhhhh... you do?" she asked through gritted teeth.

Smiling, I brought my finger back to my lips, and licked it, slowly, sensuously, enjoying how the scene brought out more longing and need in my lover. "You're not the only one with powers, sweet Shelley," I said softly in her ear. "Right now, I'm exerting my will over you. You may be able to affect my mind but I can affect your body. Right now, I have you frozen in place, teetering on the edge of orgasm. Just a little touch from me, the slightest touch, will push you the rest of the way over." He held up a hand, forestalling her words. "Now, now, before you try to convince me to give you that little push, I want to tell you some things."

I sat down next to her and took a deep breath. "I don't know exactly where we're going to go after this. For me, at least, I'd like this to be permanent, a relationship. I could see myself spending my life with you, waking up into your beautiful face morning after morning, spending my evenings talking with you, holding you close at night after totally mind-blowing sex, and drifting off to sleep next to you. I can see that. And I want that. Whether its something you put in my head, or something I've always wanted, without knowing exactly WHO I wanted, doesn't matter. I'm not the type to simply love 'em and leave 'em. I learned at a very early age just what that kind of wild lustful attitude can do to a person." I sighed, thinking again of Sister Tamara. "So, I ask you. Is this what you want as well?"

Shelley's eyes focused on me. Her lip trembled, and she seemed to be weighing her options very carefully. "No," she said after a while. "Not yet... I mean. I wanted you... yes... uuuhhhhnnnn... wanted to have you. To OWN you. I think... maybe... in time I could... come to feel like you do... but honestly... being together... uuuunnngggg! Growing old... it's not... something I considered..."

Inside, I had thought as much. I had suspected. Still, to hear her words caused a pain in me I hadn't been prepared for. It forced me to see the big picture, though. If my own strange talent hadn't overwhelmed Shelley, hadn't brought her, figuratively and literally, to her knees, then I would have ended up just another conquest, a man in total thrall to her, existing only to love and please her without any concern to my own wishes. I would have been her slave, her plaything. I took all this in. Even knowing it, I couldn't bring up an unpleasant thought about her. What she had done to me, to make me want her, was permanent. I couldn't fight the desire and love I felt for her. Indeed, I knew there was only one choice left for me.

"Shelley," I said after a moment, moving up onto the bed, "I'm at a bit of a loss here. On the one hand, I love you, and care for you, and wish only to love and cherish you as you see fit. On the other hand, you like me well enough, but you don't LOVE me, don't desire me as much as I love and desire you. You've broken me, Shelley, made me into your thrall, made me cherish and love you despite all reason." I smirked. "I suppose I'm probably just the latest in a long line. But this time, my Shelley, your prey isn't willing to let you go just yet." I grabbed her soft bare feet then, kissing softly on her toes, sucking on them, long and deep. The contact with her skin set her off again, and the erotic worship of my lips to her toes sent her rocketing into blissful oblivion once more. I smiled, continuing to lick and suckle her soft pudgy little toes, as I moved forward, sliding myself gently between her thighs.

Her eyes fluttered back open again at the intrusion. A gasp of surprise left her lips as they turned up, a stream of hysterical giggles seeping out from the arousing, yet ticklish sensation of my tongue stroking her soft tender peds. The giggles turned to deep throated moans as I began thrusting in her, holding tight to her ankles as a brace while I worked. Not nearly as naive or inexperienced now, I set about bringing the total and complete sexual domination of my lover. My lips left her wiggling toes, moving higher up, as I kissed and sucked the entire length of her leg, kissing her body all over as I fucked her in every position we could manage. Within an hour, she was panting and groaning like a veritable bitch in heat, so much so that I thought idly about getting her a nice black leather dog collar. My lips had worked their way up to her neck now, and I was bringing soft gurgling sounds from her throat by nibbling and sucking on a particularly sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder met.

Of course, I hadn't yet released the lock on her body, permitting her to move on her own. I could feel her mind battering at my own, trying to force me to free her, to let her loose to aid in her own ravishment, but I resisted it. I had my own game plan, and despite my strong desires to please her, I knew what I was doing would be better for her in the end, and stuck to it.

Let me merely say that the two hour session was just as hard on me as it was on Shelley.

When I lowered my head between her thighs, and began slowly, sensuously licking her soft petals, she broke. The incessant stress on my will to release her body dissipated, and I detected a sudden change in her. The tension left her body, and she simply relaxed, giving in to the sensations, no longer trying to fight, to gain control over it, or me. Shelley gave in to the pleasure I was giving her, and in return, I stopped holding back.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SHHHHHIIIIITTTTTTT!!!" she screamed when the full impact of my pleasure slammed into her. Her orgasm, which had just now began to wane, returned with a vengeance, tripling in intensity. I released the lock on her body, and Shelley began bucking wildly. It was all I could do to hold onto her, to maintain physical contact with her flesh, to continue the sensations. Matching her rhythm, I began bobbling my head, simply keeping my tongue still, letting her aid in my steady licking with her own wild gyrations. I only hoped that she wouldn't suddenly go into a more violent seizure and snap my neck.

When she finally came down again, I knew she was indeed broken. Her eyes held a haunted look, a desperate needy look I had seen several times before. Her weak arms clutched at me, and held me tightly, while tears ran softly down her cheeks. I whispered soft endearments to her as I stroked her hair, and her cheeks, telling her it was okay, that everything was alright. After a while, she went to sleep, and tired myself, I decided to follow her.

I awoke to a startling sight. Atop the bed lay a tray, a silver serving tray, stacked with pancakes, sausage, eggs, toast, cereal, juice, milk, and coffee. Shelley sat next to me, still gloriously naked, stretching, mostly for my benefit rather than to relax cramped muscles. She grinned, and leaned over to kiss me. "Morning," she said cheerfully.

"Good morning," I returned, sitting up carefully. "So, what's all this?"

"Breakfast, what else?" she giggled. "I figured after last night you might be a bit starved, so I took the liberty. Come on, eat up. It's not poisoned, or anything." I paused, the spoon right at my lips, and glanced at her. She rolled her eyes. "I promise, its not poisoned. Sheesh!" I smirked, and began eating.

"Hhssrroo, mmspphnnyyy, mmmhhhtt mmmrrhhhtt mmmmffsss mmmhhnnn?"

Frowning, she asked, "What was that? I can't understand you with mouth full of food."

Swallowing, I tried again. "I said, 'So, Shelly, what brought this on?' I would have thought you upset at the way things turned out last night... with all your well laid plans and all."

I had meant to be teasing, but Shelley sighed, and turned away. "I'm sorry, Jonothan," she said sincerely. "I guess I never really thought about it before much. What I do with my Gift. I just take what I want, when I want, getting rid of it when I tire of it. The same with people. Oh, I make it all into a nice little game, but its more of the thrill of the hunt rather than the prize at the end. Last night I got a little taste of what it was like on the other side... and I guess its not that fun." She looked up at me again. "What you did..." she shuddered. "What you did... you could have been much more... evil about it. You could have really toyed with me anyway you wanted to. I've never... ever... felt anything like that before."

I smiled. "Well, I'll take that as a compliment," I said, purposely mistaking her meaning. "You know, Shelley, we can't have you doing that sort of thing to other people anymore. After all, I want this to be an old-fashioned, one-to-one, monogamous relationship." I grinned at her shocked look. "Well, I suppose I can be a LITTLE flexible about some things... if you wanted to do an occasional threesome, or maybe even a foursome, if you wanted to invite another guy along. But that's it. That's the limit."

"But... but I never..." she stammered, protesting.

I grinned again, pushing the breakfast tray over onto the dresser, then sliding my left hand in between her naked thighs. Her protests died away in a soft murmur of pleasure, and she lay back into the bed, rolling her hips enticingly. "Yes, I know you never agreed to a relationship," I said softly, stroking her soft inner folds. "But this is how I want it. You've had your way in this so far, so now its my turn. Absolutely, positively, NO using your Gift anymore, unless its to help someone else, or save a life." I tweaked her clit slightly, making her gasp and hiss in pleasure. "And," I added playfully, "no more using your Talent on me, loveling. I can counter anything else you try and force on me, for the most part, now that I'm aware of it, and attempting to do so anyway will just make me withhold MY Talent from you."

I rubbed her clit now, constantly, just enough to excite, but not enough, yet, to send her over. I looked into my Shelley's eyes, which were glassy and wide now. "You don't want me to withhold my Gift from you, do you, love?"

"N... nhh... no," she gasped, riding my hand.

"Then you agree to follow the rules then?" I said, picking up the pace only slightly.

"Oooohhhh yesss... yes! I'll be a good girl... please!" she babbled.

"Alright then, love, you have a deal. Just remember... go back on your word after this, and no more of THIS!" I closed my eyes, letting that strobe flash burn though my mind, groaning softly at the temporary displacement. I rubbed Shelley's clit again, and this time, her response would not be denied. She groaned deeply, then began grunted loudly with each hard spasm that wracked her lovely form. I waited for her shudders to subside before removing my hand again, fighting her efforts to keep it pinned between her thighs.

"Now, now, I'm just thinking we should replace it with something more... ahem, substantial," I joked, sliding her on top of me. She settled in gratefully, sliding me deep into her nether region, cooing at the return of pleasure.

"There now..." I grunted, as she began an energetic humping of my cock. "Don't you th... ink, you could g-g-get used to this... kind of thing... every day, every morning?"

She smiled then, licking her lips. "Well, we'll see what the future holds," she replied demurely... or as demure as a person could be while fucking eagerly atop her lover.

The clock alarm went off then, the radio coming on. "And that was 'Wherever You Will Go', by The Calling. It's seven thirty-one on this beautiful Saturday morning. Right now, here's a little something from the Red Hot Chili Peppers. It's 'Breaking the Girl'."

The sounds of music floated down to me as I held her, Shelley, my love, and perhaps more, in my arms. Our bodies moved together naturally, as the pleasure I gave her was returned to me equally, forming a closed system of love and desire. Our rhythm moved to match that of the song, grinding our hips to the rhamba-stacatto beat. When we came, finally, it was together, ending softly on a pleasant note, just as the song came to an end.

I held her in my arms, content with the world. The contented expression on her face spoke volumes. She wouldn't leave me. She might not love me, yet, as deeply as she had made me love her, but eventually, in time, I thought perhaps she might. I smiled then. I didn't know exactly what the future would hold for us, but for now, it was enough simply to hold this girl in my arms and be happy.

Story: Breaking the Girl

by J. Darksong

((END.))