Commodities

Christmas In Norway: Part 2

SLEDGES, CORKSCREWS, AND OTHER FEARS. Based on a post by Jorunn [https://www.literotica.com/authors/Jorunn/works], in 4 parts. Listen to the ►Podcast [https://archive.org/download/680754058065264640/ChristmasInNorway2.mp3] at Connected [https://feeds.feedburner.com/connected-podcast]. [https://64.media.tumblr.com/a863c8c5103c41d5a1d895fa71fd6eb2/8c8969d5ceda323d-18/s640x960/4e8f4f2637230588bb4668929e0852509a0a0f7e.jpg] Once at the starting point, we both sat down on our sledges. I was grateful only a few others were preparing to ride, but gasped again when I saw how youthful their faces were. I doubted anyone here was over thirty years old. I wondered whether Jorunn was punishing me, or perhaps was hoping I would voluntarily quit the tour. “I don’t know if I can do this, Jorunn. I’m afraid.” Jorunn looked me in the eye with a grim look on her face. “Afraid is coming home with my mother, and finding my father sleeping with another woman. Afraid is watching how he broke apart my family and wondering how my mom and I would go on. Afraid is me cutting off my father and not wanting to ever see him again.” “Afraid is quitting a dead-end job and trying to earn a living as a vlogger in one of the most expensive countries on earth. Afraid is checking every morning for clicks, likes, and followers, and finding out the numbers did not change.” “Afraid is starting a private small-group tour company, all by myself, and weaving my way through the many regulations, laws, and insurance requirements. Afraid is knowing I have to book at least one trip a month just to cover those costs.” “Afraid is taking a group of six to Svalbard for a glacier hike in early summer, and spotting a polar bear less than 200 meters away lumbering towards us. Afraid is watching our guide fire off the last of her flares, but seeing the bear still coming. Afraid is the look in our guide’s eyes as she reached for her rifle.” “You don’t need to be afraid of sledging, Gunnar. What you need to be afraid of is being too afraid to try sledging. Meet me at the bottom of the hill. Either make the run or turn in your sledge and take the Metro down the hill.” I watched Jorunn push off and head down the run, then thought about her words. I lived a good life in Minnesota, meeting Solveig in college and then stepping right into a lifetime job with the 3M company. Adventure was going to our lake cabin where the only challenges were fighting off mosquitos, and figuring out how to remove burnt marshmallows off the end of a stick. After our first child, Solveig and I stopped doing anything like sledding, and instead sat and watched our kids having all the fun. What am I doing here in Norway? Why am I here? Jorunn answered that question for me. I pushed off and started my run. I fought my way down the mountain, and as I approached the end of the run, I was happy to see it level off. I saw Jorunn standing next to her sledge, her small camera pointed at me. I raised both hands over my head, waved, then yelled, “I did it!” I coasted to a stop three meters past her. Jorunn ran up to me, and as I stood, she hugged me. “I’m proud of you Gunnar.” As we hugged, under the clear blue skies and chilly temperatures, I closed my eyes and went back 35 years to a small hill in Minneapolis, where I hugged Solvieg after sledding. Jorunn released me and stepped back. I yelped, “It was wonderful! I kept to the side as other people whizzed past me. A few sections were bumpy, and my teeth rattled. The only time I was scared was when there was a steep drop-off on one side. Don’t you use guardrails in Norway?” “You may have seen a few small concrete walls, but we believe in personal responsibility here in Norway. If you cannot manage a sledge, you should not make the run. The authorities do monitor the conditions and sometimes close the run when it is too icy.” “Does that mean you believed in me? Believed I could make it down the hill?” “There is nothing wrong with you, Gunnar. While I was waiting here at the bottom of the hill, I read about your Iron Range in Minnesota. You are rusty. There is a Wizard of Oz Museum there. You are the Tin Man. This tour is the Oil Can. Figure it out. The Oil Can only works if you pick it up and use it. Stand tall and walk proudly for as long as you can. If you fall, get up and keep going.” It was an interesting way to look at life. I was only 56 years old, but for the last few years, I acted like I was 80. I still have many years to go sledging, if only I was not afraid to try. I turned to Jorunn. “Let’s go again!” PEA SOUP December 16 - Mid-Day After three more runs, Jorunn and I turned in our sledges and ate lunch at the beautiful Frognersteren Restaurant on top of the hill. I followed her suggestion of a thick pea soup with meatballs and potatoes. It was delicious. As we sipped hot chocolate, it felt good to be alive again. “A week ago, I was in a nursing home in Minnesota. After my wife died, no one visited me, not even my adult children. I was alone. It was a terrible place, run by a terrible nurse. I had to get out. I made plans with my lawyer, then walked out the front door and got on a plane to come to Norway. What’s the worst place you have ever been?” “Dublin, Ireland. After the divorce, my mother and I were struggling financially. We had gone from living a comfortable life to living paycheck to paycheck. I saw a post on the Internet for a job as a body double for a Vikings television program. I wasn’t sure what a body double did, but it paid well for a short gig. I took all my clothes off while a dozen people stared at me and took photos and videos. I hadn’t been naked in front of any man in over a year, since before the divorce. They must have liked me because I got the part, and they flew me to Dublin. The next morning, I went to the studios. I sat there in a robe while they cut and styled my hair to match the actress I was portraying. Then off to the makeup department, where I removed my robe while they applied fake tattoos and full body makeup so I would look dirty in all the right places.” “After lunch in the studio, the costume department placed me in a white linen tunic. When it was time to film, they told me to stand in front of the lead actor while he lifted the tunic off me and tossed it aside. He was much older than me, and with his beard, he reminded me of my father. He exuded the same swagger as if the world revolved only around him. I would be fully exposed to him, and to the camera crew, who were filming me from behind. They told me to act submissive and let the lead actor hug me. It took several takes and a few tweaks before the director was happy.” “Next, I was ordered to lay down on a stylized Viking bed covered with furs. The sex scene was to be filmed twice. Once for television, then for an unrated video release. The make-up people gave me a once over, then thankfully positioned a flesh-covered patch over my vagina. In the first shot, I was naked, but the lead actor remained fully clothed. He stood and positioned himself between my legs, and they told me to keep my vagina pressed tight against his crotch as he bucked against me. We needed to make the audience believe we were having sex while showing them nothing. I remained in this position while they adjusted the lighting and camera angles, and beneath his trousers, I felt the lead actor’s erect cock pressed against me.” “The director yelled, ‘Action’. Once again, they told me to be submissive, and let the lead actor take charge. He started humping against me. Looking up at him, he was still a handsome man, and I wondered how many women around the world dreamed or fantasized about being in the same place I was. I wasn’t one of them, but I understood this was why they hired me, so I accepted it. Like earlier, it took several takes. The director would review the shot and make small adjustments each time. After the last take, I saw a large wet spot on the front of the lead actor’s trousers.” “Then it was time for the unrated scene. A host of costume and make-up people swarmed around the actor while I lay there naked. This time, he was to be naked as he approached the bed. The camera angle was off to the side to avoid full frontal and he used his left hand to shield his erection, thankfully contained in a flesh-covered sock. The scene began with the lead actor approaching me, and once in position, he began humping against me. His covered cock slid against the covering over my vagina, but the sensations passed right through. My nipples became erect, and I felt my wetness building.” “After several takes, the director was happy, and we moved on to the last scene for which I was needed. In this one, the lead actor would be laying on top of me, his arms extended and propping himself up with his hands placed on either side of my body. This scene was more challenging because it needed to be mixed with prior facial cuts shot separately with the lead male actor and lead female actress. The scene would be filmed from several angles including above and below. As the director reviewed the earlier footage, the makeup people worked on my face and hair.” “The next thing I felt was the lead actor lying on top of me, his body pressing his erect cock against the patch covering my vagina. I wanted to turn away, but he told me to look at him because it would help him release his creative juices. I feared the possible double entendre. Here I was, face-to-face with the avatar of the man I hated more than anyone, the man who destroyed our family. When the director was ready, he said to go at it and try to simulate real sex. He yelled 'Action’. I was sweating under the lights, and the patch covering my vagina began to slip, aided by the movement of the lead actor’s covered cock. As my pussy became more exposed, I was afraid his cock might slide into me, so I yelled 'Cut!’. Everything stopped, and I pushed him off.” “That was enough. I yelled I was through, gathered my things, and headed for the front door. I paid my own way back to Oslo, and thought about filing a protest, but later learned what they did was mostly proper. Most sex scenes are between two body doubles. It is rare, but sometimes a lead actor will film such scenes if they have it in their nudity clause. I had a new appreciation for body doubles, but my own acting career lasted one day, and looking at the final scenes after release, I was on screen for eight seconds, and no one knew it was me!” I said, “Wow. We have something in common. The nursing home did everything properly, but like you, I couldn’t stand it any longer, so I headed for the front door. I’m sorry for your terrible experience.” Jorunn shook her head, “Don’t be sorry. The experience ended up changing my life for the better. After I got back to Oslo, I swore to never work for anyone else again. I wanted to direct my own scenes, so I started doing vlogs. That led to the creation of my tour company. As things turned out, I walked out one door and right into something I loved. Plus, I walked out wearing this really cool, braided leather Viking headband I have on now. You are halfway there. You have walked out the front door. Now you must find something, or someone, to love.” A profound statement from someone so young. SPIKERSUPPA December 16 - Afternoon I noticed the sun getting low on the horizon. Jorunn caught my glance and said, “The sun sets early here in Oslo, around 3:30 in the afternoon. In some of the northern cities, it set last month and will not rise again until spring.” I didn’t want to spend the rest of the day looking at museums, and flushed with my success on the hill, I took a chance. “Do you ice skate?” Jorunn replied, “I do, but not very well.” I said, “If you know of a skating rink with lights, maybe we can go there and skate.” “There is a nice lighted one in downtown Oslo called Spikersuppa,” said Jorunn. “When the sun goes down in Oslo, the twinkling lights are turned on, bringing with them their magic. The ice-skating rink is close to the Christmas market, which is our agenda for tonight.” “That sounds great to me,” I replied. We took the T-bane back to downtown Oslo and arrived as the sun was setting. There weren’t any clouds, but the multi-layered horizon was still beautiful. Orange along the bottom, and above it, increasingly darker hues of blue and purple, before turning to black in the night sky. After leaving the train station Jorunn and I walked along a pedestrian-only street named 'Karl Johns gate’ passing high-end stores and restaurants. Jorunn either pointed to, or mentioned, notable downtown buildings such as the Royal Palace, Parliament, the National Theatre, the Grand Hotel, and the original University of Oslo buildings. We also passed the brilliantly lit Freia clock, associated with the long-time Norwegian chocolate maker, and the unofficial symbol of Oslo. We rented skates and then stepped tentatively onto the ice. It wasn’t a big rink, and fortunately, not crowded. In the middle was a frozen water fountain. Christmas music was playing and twinkling lights glowed all around us. “I played ice hockey in Minnesota when I was in high school, but haven’t skated since.” “My father used to take me to figure skating lessons when I was young, but I stopped. I kept falling when trying to do spins.” “Maybe we can help each other out. Have you ever tried ice dancing?” Jorunn laughed. “No! Never!” “Neither have I. But a wise woman once told me that I should not be afraid of ice dancing. What I should be afraid of is being too afraid to try ice dancing.” Jorunn smiled, “A very wise woman, indeed! Let’s try it and see what happens.” I remember watching the wonderful British duo of Jayne Torvill and Christopher Dean ice dancing in their last Olympics in 1994. The Olympics were here in Norway, in Lillehammer. I was not about to try any lifts or spins, but I reached my right arm behind Jorunn and placed my hand on her right hip. Taking her left hand in mine, I held her left arm across my body. “Ready?” I asked. Jorunn nodded, and together we pushed off. Right. Left. Right. Left. We moved slowly, side-by-side, in a steady rhythm, and made it around the rink making only a few wobbles. After three more passes, my ancient muscle memory awoke, and I wanted to do more. We separated and I joined my right hand to her left. “We can take longer strides and skate a little faster this way.” After another trip around the rink, we added a slow weaving pattern. Coming out of the last turn, I told Jorunn, “Here is your chance to be a figure skater. I’ll hold your hand. Try a spin.” I skated slightly just ahead of Jorunn, then pulled her forward so she would have enough speed. I raised her hand into the air as she went past, and she started spinning. She yelled, “I’m doing it.” And she was, at least until her speed slowed and she fell into me. “Dam toe pick!” she yelled. With her arms around me, our eyes met. Then she wrinkled her nose, her signature facial expression on the vlogs indicating she didn’t like something. Just as quickly, her face lit up and her big smile glowed. “I’m laughing too hard inside. That was such fun!” She burst out laughing and I joined her. We finally broke the ice, here on the ice. Jorunn separated from me and said, “It is time for Christmas Market.” I helped her up and we turned in our skates. The nearby lights and sounds beckoned. THE CHRISTMAS MARKET December 16 - Evening The sun set long ago and was now just a memory. It was completely dark, but downtown Oslo turned into a Christmas wonderland. There were twinkling lights on almost every tree, with the large and stately buildings surrounding us outlined in white lights to accompany their dramatic uplighting. Oslo was so different than Minneapolis. In downtown Minneapolis, 30-year-old buildings were being torn down to build taller ones in the same location. Here, the buildings were massive, centuries-old, covering an entire block, and they were still in use, letting everyone appreciate the history and architecture. Jorunn and I saw glass-covered buildings in Oslo, with their clean modern architecture, but this was the heart of the city. The life, the pulse, and vitality of Oslo all sprang from here. Towering above everything at the Christmas Market was a brilliantly lit Ferris wheel, each spoke outlined in white lights. I looked at Jorunn and she nodded. She took my hand, and we ran for the Ferris wheel, artfully dodging between the growing number of people. When we boarded, we found each of the seats enclosed in a glass bubble, possibly as a safety measure, or just as likely, protection from the cold. One of the benefits of this was being able to move around a bit, which afforded us a 360-degree aerial view of downtown Oslo. We paused near the top, where Jorunn pulled out her camera. Jorunn said, “It’s rather romantic up here. We should do a selfie.” She sat down right me. “Kiss me. On the lips. Just a quick one. I have the timer set for three seconds. We’ll put our lips together and hold them for a few seconds until the flash goes off.” “Jorunn, I am much older than you. I don’t think it will look very romantic.” “Gunnar, you’re not too old to kiss someone. And if I need to, I can do a little digital touchup, or just flash a quick cut. It will be perfect.” “How do want me to kiss you? Do you want my eyes open or closed? Should I look at the camera or…” Jorunn quickly reached behind my head and pulled me to her. As our lips met, I closed my eyes, and my mouth responded. I felt her softness and a quick tease as Jorunn’s tongue glazed over my lips. A flash went off. But Jorunn did not separate, nor did I. I opened my eyes, and saw that Jorunn’s eyes closed. As our lips pressed together, it felt so warm and comfortable. We separated, and Jorunn said, “Perfect!” Then she looked at the photo just taken. I thought about the sequence of her words and her actions. Jorunn switched over to video and began doing her vlog. She was speaking in English. Immersed in Norwegian for three days, it almost sounded like a foreign language to me. When Jorunn finished, I asked her why she didn’t record her vlogs in Norwegian. She surprised me by continuing in English. “Norwegians already live here. Who would watch my videos if I recorded them in Norwegian? If someone in Norway wants to see the view from the top of this Ferris wheel, they will come here and ride it. People from every continent watch my videos and speak at least some English. It used to bother me when I would get comments on my videos complaining I spoke with a Norwegian accent. Now I just laugh.” I asked her, “Every continent? Including Antarctica?” “Yes. The Norwegian Polar Institute has a year-round research station in Antarctica named 'Troll’. Their mission is to study the polar regions and the effects of global warming and pollution. It’s not a tourist destination, but they have talked to me about possibly going there. They want to do more outreach, to spread the word to younger audiences on social media. I have followers there, but we haven’t been able to work out the permissions and details. The

Christmas In Norway: Part 1

THE HOMELAND CALLS FOR GUNNAR, AND SO DOES LOVE. Based on a post by Jorunn [https://www.literotica.com/authors/Jorunn/works], in 4 parts. Listen to the ►Podcast [https://archive.org/download/680754058065264640/ChristmasInNorway1.mp3] at Connected [https://feeds.feedburner.com/connected-podcast]. [https://64.media.tumblr.com/2490a7123826df39b725428acace2a7b/b46dff4b40c23ac6-92/s640x960/3404c55cea5115d00b61ed3fbd83852a8d0071fd.jpg] ‘You are the Tin Man. This tour; is the Oil Can.  Figure it out.’ A recently widowed Norwegian American plans his escape from a Minnesota nursing home to travel abroad and join a ‘Christmas in Norway Tour’. While battling his fears, he meets a beautiful young tour guide and her divorced mother, who years later, still bears scars from her unfaithful husband’s affair. This story is about overcoming those fears to let healing begin.  This story picks up after that, and shows the lingering effects of a husband’s extra-marital affair on his family. This is also a Christmas story, so expect to travel to locations in Norway, encounter Norwegian Christmas traditions, and maybe even get sprinkled with pixie-dust! “A man has only one escape from his old self: to see a different self - in the mirror of some woman’s eyes” - Clare Booth Luce PREQUEL: THE RUINED CHRISTMAS Oslo, Norway - Three Years Ago My name is Jorunn. As a Norwegian landsby girl, Mamma and I spent Christmas week in Bergen, visiting her family and celebrating my 22nd birthday. We decided to leave Bergen two days early so that Pappa would not have to celebrate New Year’s Eve alone. During the week, while we were away, Pappa told us how he missed us. We arrived back home in mid-afternoon, just as the sun was setting, and saw our Christmas Star lit up in the window. After entering the house, we heard Pappa moaning upstairs and went up to see if he was all right. Opening the bedroom door, we saw him humping a strange woman! “What are you doing?” shouted Mamma. Pappa replied, “Leah, you’re home early.” “Who is this woman?” “She’s just a slut. She means nothing to me.” The woman yelped, “I am not a slut! I am a happily married woman.” Mamma yelled, “I can see what keeps you happy.” Pappa yelled back, “I still love you, Leah. Let me get rid of this slut. She’s only here because I was lonely. We can talk.” Mamma replied, “You can talk to my advokater. We’re through! How can I ever trust you again, you bastard? Do you realize what you have done to our family!” Mamma began sobbing and ran down the stairs. Pappa looked at me and said, “Jorunn, none of this would have happened if your mother hadn’t come home early and seen us.” I looked at Pappa and saw his slime-covered beard slick with the woman’s juices. “You’re wrong Pappa. It did happen. Mamma and I just wouldn’t have known. You said you didn’t want to be seen by us. That works both ways! I don’t ever want to talk to you or see you ever again!” I ran downstairs to Mamma, and with our suitcases still in the boot, we drove to a friend’s house. GUNNAR AND NURSE RATCHED December 13 - Morning Minneapolis, Minnesota - Present Day I pressed the button on my cell phone and hung up after talking with Roger Mans, my long-time friend and attorney. My two adult children texted a few days ago they wanted to visit me here in the nursing home. I had not seen them since the funeral of my wife, Solveig, and that was two months ago. Their plan was for me to sign their power of attorney forms, giving them full control over me and my affairs. But my plan was different, and now was time to put it into place. Two years ago, at just 54 years old, I had a stroke. A devastating paralysis left me needing a lot of care, and therapy to regain my mobility, speech, and other functions. I realized Solveig was unable to care for me at our home. She tried with all her heart, but she was also fighting her own battle with cancer, and undergoing her own rigorous treatments. So I decided to enter a nursing home, while I continued to get rehab. I wanted a facility with a stroke recovery unit. This limited my nursing home choices. The only thing making life bearable here, was Solveig faithfully visiting me, and sneaking an occasional home-cooked meal past the head nurse and her staff. Sadly, Solveig succumbed to the cancer while I was still a resident at the ‘Bethel Retirement Center’. At Solveig’s funeral, my children promised to visit often, but as usual, I could never count on them for anything. Without my wife here to check on things, my decent clothes never came back from the laundry, and instead, the staff returned excuses. I put on old sweatpants and an old sweatshirt. It would do for now. I prepared myself for this day by walking the halls of the nursing home, attending physical therapy sessions, and taking care of myself without help from the staff. Still not fully recovered, but like my clothing, it would do for now. I said goodbye to Alfred, my shared roommate. He nodded, wished me luck, and said he would love to go with me. I felt sorry for him. He was a great storyteller but needed to use his walker, and physically, he required the kind of care they provided here. I walked down the hall to the nurse’s station and found Molly Turner, the rather brusque chief nurse, and her two assistants sitting behind it. “Good morning, Nurse Ratched,” I said. “Good day to you, Gunnar,” she replied. “I’m checking out,” I said. “Be serious, Gunnar. No one ever checks out of a nursing home, unless they are flat on their back with a toe tag.” I looked at her and smiled, “I only hope that will be your Fate, Molly.” “That’s not a nice thing to say, Gunnar. Now, return to your room or I will have dietary take away your rice pudding for a week.” The rice pudding here was a pale imitation of the riskrem, which Solvieg would make every Christmas. I would miss it this year. I gave Nurse Ratched a one-fingered salute, then walked toward the exit. There was a scramble of squeaky chairs and shouts behind me, and I heard their footsteps closing in on me. As I pushed the two doors open to the main lobby, there was Roger, standing next to the nursing home administrator. I walked up to my lawyer, and shook his hand, “Thank you, old friend.” I turned to see a stunned Nurse Ratched. “Allow me to escort Mr. Larsen back to his room,” she meekly pronounced. The nursing home administrator said, “That won’t be necessary, Molly. Mr. Larsen is leaving us. He isn’t taking anything with him. You may clear out his room and get it ready for the next resident.” I looked Nurse Ratched in the eye and saw the fires of hell blazing within. Then, it was my turn to smile back. All my therapists had agreed that my rehab was successful. My speech skills were quite restored. My left arm and leg took longer to restore. But it was good enough to ditch the wheelchair, then the walker, then the cane. What really set me back was the grief of losing my wife, and the guilt of not being there when she needed me most. GUNNAR’S HOUSE Roger drove me to my house. I hadn’t been there in two years. It looked pathetic. No one bothered shoveling the snow on the walkway, and I feared what my children may have done to the inside. I found the hidden key I placed under a rock years ago and used it to enter through the front door. The living room and dining room furniture were mostly gone, or should I say, stolen. They had rifled through the small office nook next to the kitchen, with papers scattered over the kitchen countertops and floor. I turned and said, “You’re going to have your work cut out for you, Roger.” “This is exactly what you said would happen, Gunnar. Our firm will take care of it for you.” I opened a small drawer in the office nook and thankfully found my passport intact. It was useless to my children. I went to the master bedroom and saw the dresser drawers partially opened, with clothes scattered all about the floor. On top of the dresser was Solvieg’s jewelry box. I opened it, and few things remained. I was glad to see the gold charm bracelet I gave her 35 years ago for Christmas. She wore it a couple of times, then stopped, complaining it turned her wrist green as the fake gold coating wore away. But she kept it all these years. A worn-out trinket to my children, as precious as the Sauron’s Ring of Power to me. I picked it up and put it in the pocket of my sweatpants. I went into the walk-in closet and picked out some clothes, tossed them into an old gym bag, and said, “I’m done. We can go.” Roger said, “The locksmith and security company will meet me here this afternoon. Once they are done, your children will no longer have access.” “I’d rather not have an auction of whatever is left in the house. I don’t think Solveig would have liked that. Once you go through the papers, just throw everything left in a dumpster and haul it away. Whatever the two pirates plundered will be the only inheritance they will ever see from me.” MILLER AND MANS LAW OFFICE Roger and I next went to his office. I said hello to Jane, the long-time receptionist. I have always suspected that Jane knows everything that goes on here, and secretly runs the whole place, not unlike the way Nurse Ratched does in her domain. However, Jane does so with more efficiency, happiness, and joy for both clients and staff. Jane asked, “Can I get you anything, Gunnar?” “I’d love a cup of decent coffee, and an Apple Fritter if you have one.” “I’ll bring them to Roger’s office. Two creams and no sugar, if I remember right.” “Perfect, as always, Jane.” We went into Roger’s plush office, and I sat down in a chair more comfortable than any I sat in for the last two years. “Are you actually going to go through with this?” Roger asked. “Every bit of it,” I replied. I signed multiple papers, removing my two children as beneficiaries from my life insurance and investment accounts. I also gave Roger limited power of attorney to sell my house and dispose of its possessions. Jane arrived with the coffee and Apple Fritter. “Norway? Why would anyone want to go to Norway in December?” “Did Roger spill the beans?” I asked. Jane replied, “Every piece of paper that comes into this office passes through my hands. I opened your travel visa when it came in.” “Jane, I can’t spend Christmas here in Minnesota. The bitter wintry weather pales in comparison to the cold hearts of my own two children. The further away from them I am, the better. I’ve never been to Norway and have always wanted to see the 'home country’ of my ancestors.” Like I said, Jane knows all. The coffee tasted great, and the deep-fried Apple Fritter, one of Nursed Ratched’s 'prohibited foods’, was outstanding. Roger slid me a packet labeled 'Gunnar - Norway’. As Jane left, I opened it and looked at the contents. As planned, there was an international cell phone with a different number, a stack of krone, and three new credit cards bearing the name of a fictitious business. I handed Roger my old cell phone. “We’ll dispose of this for you. Your children will have no idea where you are unless they hire a private detective with exceptionally good connections. Legally, they have no rights to any of your assets, so even if somehow they track you to our law office, they will not get past Jane.” I believed Roger on that. “The tour company you asked us to sign you up with seems pretty sketchy. Their contract looks like something generated off a free online legal site. We reviewed it, it is crude, but legal and binding. If you back out, they still get paid. Why did you pick this tour company? There are many larger and more reputable companies we might have booked you with.” “It’s silly, Roger. I know it’s only a one-person company, run by a young vlogger in Norway. It was terribly boring in the nursing home, so I would spend evenings watching her videos as she traveled around Norway visiting various places, and leading small groups of tourists. It looked like the people were having fun and she made me laugh. Watching her videos was one of the few things that brought me any happiness.” “Why did you reserve for four persons?” asked Roger. “I wanted to make sure her Christmas in Norway tour wouldn’t be canceled. She has a four-person minimum.” “You won’t get those other bookings back, even if more people are going.” “I don’t need the money, Roger, but I do need this tour.” “How about clothing? You don’t have many clothes in that gym bag, Gunnar. Do you want to stop somewhere before we get to the airport?” “No. I’ll travel light. It’ll be easier when going through airport security. I’ll buy more clothes when I get to Norway.” “How about after you come back?” “I’m going to someplace warm and sunny. Maybe visit a mouse in Florida. I’ll be in touch if I need anything while I’m in Norway, and call you when I get back in three weeks.” JORUNN, THE TOUR GUIDE December 15 – Morning, Two Days Later I spent yesterday shopping for the new clothes I would need. The tour is a mix of city and outdoor activities, so I bought a basic wardrobe, along with good walking shoes, snow pants, a warm jacket, and gloves. I ate lunch and dinner at two smaller restaurants. The food was good, but I felt lonely eating by myself, in a city I didn’t know, in a strange country. I missed Solveig very much and wished she were here with me. The next morning, I walked to the nearby hotel where the tour group would be meeting and followed the “Christmas in Norway Tour” sign to a small room off the lobby. There she was! Jorunn. My vlogger! She was about as tall as I am, at least when I can stand straight, with long blonde hair parted in the middle, clear blue eyes, and her signature radiant smile. She wore a Norwegian Dale sweater and brown pants. Jorunn spoke to me in Norwegian. “Excuse me, sir, this room is reserved for a tour group.” I hobbled closer. “Yes, and I’m one of the people taking the tour.” “We have a pretty active schedule for the next seven days, from December 15th through the 22nd. Do you think you are well enough to take this tour?” I wasn’t sure if I was, but I didn’t want to tell her that. “I won’t slow you down,” I replied. “What is your name?” she asked. “Gunnar Larsen.” She opened a small notebook and flipped through the pages. “It says here you are in a group of four. I see three other names. When are they coming?” “There won’t be any others from my group. One of the names is my recently deceased wife, the other two are my estranged adult children. I’m all there is.” Jorunn looked puzzled. “Only four people in total signed up, including you, all from your group. If the others aren’t coming, then you will be the only one. I don’t… I can’t… I mean, I have reservations I cannot cancel. You’re going to cost me a fortune whether I go through with the tour or not.” I replied, “The contract states that you have a four-person minimum. I am paying you in full for all four people. You won’t lose any money.” Jorunn smirked and looked like she was thinking. “I don’t know if you’re some kind of dirty old man, but if I agree to continue this tour, you should know that we will have separate rooms every night and there will be no sex of any kind. Judging by the way you look; I hope you can at least wipe your own butt!” “Your terms are acceptable. I had a stroke two years ago, but I have mostly recovered. I can walk, talk, and listen. I have trouble with my balance at times and sometimes slur my words. If you think something is too strenuous for me, I am willing to skip that part of the tour.” “Well, Mr. Larsen of Minnesota, you need to sign some release forms. As stated in the contract, I get to film the tour group for my vlogs, so I expect smiles when I am filming you. For now, go help yourself to breakfast. There is coffee, brunost, bread, and milk. Enough to feed four. Don’t expect me to serve you, and if you don’t know how to use a cheese sliver, learn fast.” She looked puzzled earlier but was now the confident Jorunn with whom I spent virtual evenings. I was delighted we worked this out. Smiles would not be a problem. OSLO December 15 - Morning Jorunn left the room and returned shortly with a small basket of food. “We have a lot of brunost left over, so I am going to make us a food packet for lunch called matpakke. I have a place in mind where we can sit and picnic.” “We will use the Vy app and Oslo Pass and travel by train and Metro. But today, we will mainly walk around Oslo. You will need to check into this hotel under the tour name if you have not done so. We will be in Oslo for two nights. The prepaid room is part of your tour package. I will try to cancel or change some reservations. Meet me back here in one hour.” I went back to my hotel to retrieve my belongings, then checked into the one Jorunn requested. It was not as nice as the one I left, but it was clean, and I did not want to make a fuss on the first day. I purchased a surprising amount of clothing yesterday and needed to make two trips to bring everything over. Then I returned to the meeting room and found Jorunn waiting. Jorunn and I walked from the hotel to Oslo Central Station and took a tram to the Vigeland Sculpture Park. Jorunn told me it is the world’s largest sculpture park made by a single artist, Gustav Vigeland, with over two hundred sculptures combining the human form with an element of fantasy. Most figures were naked, with a mix of vagueness and rather notably open precision. The most prominent sculpture was a 17-meter-high monolith consisting of 121 intertwined human figures clambering to the top, carved from a single stone block. We spent over an hour walking the grounds, and while it was interesting, I told Jorunn that I didn’t see much in the way of Christmas here. A combination of walking and a short bus ride brought us to the grounds of the Akershus Fortress. Constructed in the 13th century, it protects the waterfront and Oslo harbor. Also on the site was the restored Akershus Castle, which was formerly a residence of prior kings of Norway. Jorunn said it serves today as an entertainment and event center for the Norwegian government, and this close to Christmas was not open to the public. I found it challenging to walk the grounds of the Fortress, as there were steep inclines mixed with stone steps and cobblestone paths. Remnants of a prior snowstorm still lingered in shady areas and under arches, making the footing treacherous. We did stop at places offering magnificent views of the city of Oslo, the bay, and the fjord, and several ramparts still bore cannons. Jorunn was rather businesslike and did not seem to be enjoyin

Angel of Mercy: Part 2

MIRACLES CAN HAPPEN ON CHRISTMAS EVE. Based on a post by auguy86 [https://www.sexstories.com/profile1055872/auguy86], in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast [https://archive.org/download/my-first-2025/AngelOfMercy2.mp3] at My First Time [https://feeds.feedburner.com/my-first-time]. [https://64.media.tumblr.com/bfbe0f460f693f7a588dc0ef3c7f6f90/05f7431798128eb1-86/s640x960/536ecb1c6d1ad284dd81453b630d1559c51210d3.jpg] “I; I don’t want to just be a charity case,” Ken replied. “If you do this, Gabrielle;” “It will only be because I want to. Promise,” Gabby replied, finishing his thought. “Now, your first lesson in kissing: making the move. I’m a young, attractive woman who has been making eye contact with you all night and finding every excuse in the book to touch you. You may not realize it, but when a woman does that, it means she’s ready for you to make the move. Try it on me, just like I did.” Mimicking Ken, Gabby closed her eyes, waiting for the moment that Ken would kiss her once more. He leaned in as she had done, trying to take his time and not rush anything. As he was about to kiss her, he remembered that agonizing wait when he could sense her almost on top of him. Pausing mere centimeters from her lips, he allowed the tension to build up for a few moments. Soon, a huge smile began to form on Gabby’s lips; she was enjoying this, and he hadn’t even touched her yet! Ken collected his courage and finally met her lips with his, moving them ever so slightly as he kissed her. He only had his instincts to guide him, but she didn’t seem to mind one bit. “Umm; that was very nice,” Gabby whispered as they parted. “Good job in mimicking my technique. Let’s try one more. This time, lick your lips just a bit before you kiss me, and try to let our mouths fit together like a puzzle. You can take my lower lip between yours, or I can take your lip between mine. Tilting your head to the side a bit is also a natural position. The possibilities are almost endless. When you’re ready, don’t be afraid to put your tongue in my mouth. In the future, you’ll want to be careful about doing this too soon, but for our purposes tonight, go right ahead.” Ken did as she instructed, and found that the increased moisture to be quite pleasant. It allowed each of their lips to slide along the other’s with little effort. All too soon, he felt Gabby take his lower lip in hers, sucking lightly and even nibbling for an instant. After she did this a second time, Ken took the hint and reciprocated in kind, eliciting a contented murmur from Gabby. As their kissing became more passionate, he could no longer resist the urge to taste this gorgeous woman. Still tentative, he pressed his tongue against the crease of her lips, which parted to allow him entry. Though he didn’t know what to do once he was in, he soon found himself enthralled in Gabby’s passions. Her tongue danced with his, exploring his mouth in a slow, methodical fashion. This gave him the perfect gauge to judge his own efforts by. After nearly twenty minutes of making out, they finally separated, their faces flushed from the experience. “Holy shit.” Ken sighed. “You, my friend, are one quick study. The next girl that kisses you may well get addicted and refuse to let you go,” Gabby agreed with a playful grin. Leaning back on the sofa, she reached down and unbuttoned the top button of her jeans, asking, “You ready to learn something else?” In spite of his hardening cock, Ken couldn’t help but feel like he was doing something he shouldn’t. “Look, you seriously don’t have to;” “I want to,” she said with confidence. “Ken, you are such a sweet, special guy, and I want to show you that. I want to prove to you how lucky a girl I would be to have a guy like you.” Would be? What’s that supposed to mean? “I’ve never made love to a virgin, Ken,” she continued. “But I know what I love in bed, and I think I can help you get quite good at this. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but if you’ll allow me, I’d love nothing more than to take your virginity tonight.” Ken was torn. This woman certainly drove him crazy, but part of him worried this was all an elaborate setup. Women never came on to him like this, let alone one this beautiful! Then again, she hadn’t balked in the slightest in kissing him. Hell, she had even encouraged him to French kiss her. In spite of the fact that he had every reason to be distrusting after Jacqueline’s message, he recognized that she had shown him nothing but kindness and patience. He didn’t believe in destiny or fate, but if there was a moment in which he was supposed to lose his virginity, this had to be it. “Okay; I want to,” he whispered. “I’m glad,” she replied with a warm smile. Fumbling with his belt, he said, “I guess I’d better;” “There’s plenty of time, Ken,” Gabby reassured him. “If we do this, I want to do it right. I want to show you the proper way to take a girl around the world. That starts with what we were doing earlier, only this time, you can start removing my clothes in the process.” As Ken leaned in and resumed their kissing, Gabby guided his hands lower and slipped them underneath her sweater. He spent a few moments enjoying the warm sensation of skin-to-skin contact before tugging her sweater up. They separated for a moment so that Gabby could finish peeling her top off, revealing a simple, black silk bra. As they continued making out, Ken reached behind her, trying to decipher the key to unhooking the ever-hated bra. “Want some advice?” Gabby asked with a slight giggle. “Sure,” Ken signed, beginning to get frustrated. “Feel for the crease, then slip one finger under and one finger over. Squeeze together and rub your fingers until it unhooks.” Concentrating, Ken did as she instructed. The clasp itself was easy to find, and her descriptions were spot on. To his surprise, it only took one unsuccessful attempt before he managed to snap the garment open. “Impressive,” Gabby marveled. “Thanks, but that was all you. I’d be lost without your instructions.” “You’re a natural student; you take direction well. Ready for the next lesson?” “Oh yeah,” Ken said with anticipation. “Your kissing skills have grown by leaps and bounds in just a few minutes. Now you should remember that you don’t have to kiss just my lips. My cheeks, my neck, my shoulders; my entire body is your playground. Few things turn a woman on more than a man whose only desire is to worship every inch of her form.” With that, Gabby shrugged her shoulders and slipped her bra off, revealing her ample D-cup tits to Ken. He was utterly speechless at the sight he now beheld. They were not only large, but quite perky as well. Her tiny pink nipples, already hard from their making out, were the perfect accent to Gabby’s most notable assets. As he drank her in, he felt her guide his hand towards her, reaching him out to touch her tit. It barely fit into his hand, yet it was so soft and warm that it felt like it just belonged there. Taking a deep breath, Ken now reached in with both of his hands, squeezing her tits together and exploring every inch of their surface. Remembering her words from a moment ago, he leaned in once more and began to kiss his way from her lips down to her chest. “Yes; just like that.” she cooed. Arriving at the valley of her bosom, he made his way to one side, kissing her tit while also stimulating her nipple with his finger. “That’s so good, Ken; ooh, you can suck on them too,” she whispered with encouragement. Ken’s heart leapt at her suggestion, and he moved to take one of her tiny nipples in his mouth. He sucked with eagerness at first, but Gabby soon coaxed him to go slower. “Careful there; be gentle.” “Sorry.” “Quite alright, they’re just a bit sensitive,” she said with a sweet giggle. Ken spent quite some time lapping at her tits, alternating sides every so often. At first, Gabby advised him on when to change so as not to over stimulate one side or the other. Soon, though, Ken was moving back and forth all on his own, driving her wild with lust in the process. After several minutes of this, she lifted his head up, a wicked grin on her face. “Ready for the big reveal?” she asked, lowering the zipper of her jeans. “Uh; uh huh.” Lifting her hips up, Gabby slipped her jeans over her curvy ass and down her long legs before kicking them off with her boots. She then turned to recline back on the sofa, spreading her legs a tiny bit. The smoldering come hither look she gave Ken was enough to bring any man to his knees. “Come on, Ken; you’ve got a Christmas present to open.” Ken’s mouth went dry as he stared at her black thong panties, mesmerized in disbelief by what was about to happen. With trembling hands, he slipped his fingers into her waistband and slid the silky garment off, revealing Gabby’s shaven pussy at last. In that moment, Ken had completely forgotten that he was still wearing all his clothes. “I just love the way you’re looking at me,” Gabby breathed, breaking his trance. “It’s like you won the lottery or something.” “I; think I did.” “So sweet. Now then, time to learn how to really make a woman happy. Most women are at least willing to engage in oral sex, but you always need to give at least as much as you receive. It’s only polite. And there’s no better way to make a woman want to suck your cock; than to eat her pussy without prompting. With that said.” Gabby now spread her legs wide for him, beckoning him to explore her delectable womanhood. Following a trail she laid with her fingers, Ken began to kiss his way up her leg and inner thigh. After repeating the action on her other leg, he arrived at her soaked pussy, breathing in the musky aroma seeping from within her. “Spread my lips, Ken,” Gabby whispered. Using a gentle touch, he did as she asked, gazing deep into her slick tunnel. He soon leaned forward, touching his tongue to the folds of her labia. She tasted different than he had expected, perhaps a bit salty, but nothing unpleasant in Ken’s mind. He continued to taste and tease her lips for a few moments, and she began to squirm and writhe under him in pleasure. “Oh, yes; that’s just right, Ken; you can move a little higher, too. See that little bump there? That’s my clit. She’s sensitive, but if you pay enough attention to her; something good is bound to happen.” He tilted his head upwards a bit, running his tongue along her lips as he arrived at her clit. Flicking the nub a couple of times, he was surprised at just how strong Gabby’s reaction was. Ken liked that. She was having the time of her life, and it was all because of him. Feeling a twinge of confidence, he redoubled his efforts and began lapping at her clit again and again, never giving her a chance to rest. “Yes; yes, that’s fucking incredible!” she cried out. As Gabby’s hips began to buck, Ken looped his arms around her thighs on instinct, helping her to remain still. He continued his worshipping of her womanhood, savoring every drop of her juices as she squirmed and squealed in delight. Soon, he began to sense that her thrashing was reaching a crescendo and an ultimate plateau. He received almost immediate verbal confirmation of this. “Holy shit; Fuck that’s awesome! Oh, Ken don’t stop; don’t; stop; please don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop; ah!” Ken knew in an academic sense that women could achieve powerful orgasms. Still, he had never actually seen it happen, let alone experienced it by his hand, or rather his tongue. Yet lying beneath him was the most beautiful woman he had ever met in his life, and she was becoming even more beautiful by the second as her body erupted in ecstasy. The look of pleasure on her face as her eyes fluttered closed was awe-inspiring. A few final licks to her pussy, and she gently pushed his face away from her crotch. “That’s quite enough; but oh so wonderful.” she sighed. “You’re a natural, Ken.” “Thanks. That’s; got to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Seeing you lose control like that, it was surreal.” “So sweet,” she said, sitting up straight on the sofa. “For all your supposed awkwardness, you sure know how to pay a girl a compliment.” She leaned forward, planting a long, slow kiss on his lips. As they parted, she whispered, “Ready for your due reward?” With a slight gasp, he replied, “Oh, hell yes.” Gabby stood from the sofa, smiling the entire time. Reaching behind the armrest of the sofa, she pulled out a dark blue sleeping bag and began to spread it out on the thick rug in front of the fire. “It’s a tradition,” she explained, seeing the look of confusion on Ken’s face. “When I was a little girl, I swore I’d catch Santa in the act by sleeping next to the tree. He’d never be able to sneak past me. Well, my parents told me to go for it, but that it wouldn’t work; he’s too good. Sure enough, he had come and gone the next morning. He even left a note next to my pillow that said, ‘Nice try, Gabby. Merry Christmas.’ Ever since then, I’ve slept by the tree every Christmas Eve.” “Love it,” Ken grinned. By now, she had finished spreading the sleeping bag out on the floor and affixed a couple of pillows at the head for them. As it was designed for one person, she had opened it completely and laid it out flat, making it large enough for two to lie on. Seeing what she was doing, Ken grabbed a large throw blanket from the sofa to cover up with. “Why, thank you,” she said. “But don’t you think you’re a bit overdressed?” “Huh?” Ken had been so entranced with Gabby’s naked body that he’d forgotten that he was still wearing his clothes. “Oh, uh, I guess so.” “Can I help with that?” she asked with a mischievous grin. “Sure.” Gabby sauntered over to him, wrapping him in a warm hug as they stood next to the fireplace. After kissing his lips, she moved to his cheek and neck, just as he had done to her before. As she began to drive him crazy, she slipped her fingers into his tee shirt and pulled it off of him, exposing his bare chest to her. Now with a new playground to explore, Gabby continued from where she left off. She first lingered around his neck and shoulders, then down his chest before finally reaching his stomach. As she knelt before him, she unbuckled his belt and slid his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, freeing his rock hard cock at last. Ken was not large my most standards, being only about five inches in length at full staff, but to Gabby he was perfect. She had no hesitation as she began to lightly stroke his length in her hand, and soon began to take him in her mouth bit-by-bit. Ken was in blissful agony; not only was he receiving is first blowjob, but he also had to keep from exploding too soon, all while concentrating on standing still. She sucked him for a few seconds more before releasing him. “If you get close, let me know, okay? I want this inside my pussy, too.” Ken could only nod in reply. She soon resumed her pleasuring of his member, sucking him with gleeful determination. He had been so good to her tonight; she only wanted to reward his efforts. Slowing her pace, she gazed up at him with her smoldering eyes, her pretty face framed by her long blonde hair. As Ken began to lose himself in her beauty, he also felt a familiar bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. Though he panicked for a moment, he soon had the presence of mind to tap Gabby on the forehead. “I think you’d better slow down,” he stammered. Releasing his cock from her mouth with a pop, Gabby grinned and replied, “Good. Because I think it’s time for me to take your virginity.” After switching off the gas logs, she stretched out on the open sleeping bag and held part of the blanket up, beckoning Ken to slide in with her. He did so with eagerness, though was still nervous as hell; he had no idea what he was doing! Sensing his doubts, Gabby spoke with soft confidence and reassurance. “Let’s go you on top to start. That way you can control it so you don’t go off too soon. Honestly, though, don’t worry about stamina. You’ve already lasted through one of my blowjobs, which is no small feat, if I do say so myself. You ready?” “Um, yeah; I think so. But do we need any; protection? I don’t have a condom or anything.” With a warm smile, she replied, “Don’t ever change, Ken. Sweet, humble, and considerate, that’s what you are. I don’t have any diseases per my last doctor’s visit two months ago, and I know you’re a virgin so I don’t think there’s any concern.” “That’s good. But; what if you get pregnant? I’m not sure I’d be able to pull out in time.” “Well,” she paused, her smile becoming more bittersweet. “It’s a long story, but trust me when I say that there’s no risk of me becoming pregnant. We’re clear to let loose with this, as long as you’re comfortable with that, of course.” “I am. I just; wanted to be sure.” “Thank you, Ken. Now, if you please, my pussy is aching for your cock, and you’d best make her happy.” Positioning his pelvic region between her legs, Ken attempted to push into her, but his slick cock merely grazed the surface before slipping up to her belly. Gabby just smiled and reached down, taking a gentle grip on his cock with her hand and guiding him to the entrance of her pussy. Feeling a bit of give, he followed his instincts and penetrated her at long last, his virginity melting away in the process. She was divine, far tighter than Ken had ever imagined in his wildest dreams and fantasies. “Oh Ken; that’s just where you belong,” she cooed in satisfaction. “Holy fuck; so tight.” he could only reply. Ken began to thrust in and out of her, keeping his tempo moderate at the start to get a feel for how sensitive he was. The sensations of making love to this goddess were only enhanced by the look of sheer enjoyment in Gabby’s eyes. He prayed that he would be able to last and enjoy it all, even if only for a few minutes. As he continued thrusting into her, Gabby began to get a mischievous look in her eyes. “You’re thinking something,” Ken observed. “Uh huh. Wanna learn a trick that’ll drive any girl nuts?” “Sure.” “Come up on your knees and keep your torso straight up. Try to get to where you can keep yourself inside me without having to balance on your arms.” “Like this?” he asked, relaxing back on his folded knees. “Exactly. You can also stretch my leg out against your chest to help you balance.” “Very nice,” he said as he followed her instructions. &ld

Angel of Mercy: Part 1

MIRACLES CAN HAPPEN ON CHRISTMAS EVE. Based on a post by auguy86 [https://www.sexstories.com/profile1055872/auguy86], in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast [https://archive.org/download/my-first-2025/AngelOfMercy1.mp3] at My First Time [https://feeds.feedburner.com/my-first-time]. [https://64.media.tumblr.com/406312c85a271db7eee636a0bfc96a86/41e45611ed107f1f-91/s640x960/347dd632815869c95ab34b6941cb39c74c46582c.jpg] Ken Dix flipped through the TV guide at a moderate pace; “500 channels, and nothing but Christmas specials on.” Finding nothing but disappointment at every turn. As it was Christmas Eve, every show was a mushy feel-good romp spouting lines about family and goodwill to others. None of that spoke to Ken in the slightest. “Ken?” a voice came from the kitchen. “What’s up, Mom?” “I’ve got my hands full with making everything for dinner tonight, but I’m going to run short on a couple of ingredients,” Helen Dix said, poking her head into the living room. “Can you run to the store real quick for me please?” “Sure thing,” Ken replied, seeing as he had nothing better to do. “Great, thank you. I made a list on the counter for you. The store should be open for another hour or two. The main things would be the eggs; I don’t have enough to finish my famous chess pie. If they have tea by the gallon, grab one sweet and one unsweet. The rest are great if you find them, but not essential.” “Got it,” Ken said as he took the list from the counter. Heading out to his car, Ken cranked up his Honda Civic and pulled out of the driveway. As he made his way into town, Ken reflected on his current situation. Though he loved his mom, being home for the holidays was always nerve-wracking for him. His hometown of Alpharetta, Georgia was crawling with former high school classmates of his, people he’d just as soon never see again. But up at MIT, he was actually among peers that he could relate to on an intellectual level. Not that he’d made that many friends up there. As a nineteen-year-old freshman, he was still stuck in the same boring math and science classes as everyone else. He couldn’t wait until he could start his health sciences training. Maybe then he could meet some decent people, perhaps of the female variety. Ken soon arrived in the parking lot of the local Kroger. It was soon obvious that the place was packed with last-minute shoppers, all trying to find that one final ingredient they were missing. Locking his car, Ken sauntered into the store, grabbing a shopping basket along the way. He found the shelves of the store well picked over, striking out on the nonessential items on his mom’s list. Making his way to the drinks aisle, he was pleased to see that the store was keeping the gallon jugs of tea well stocked for the holidays, and picked up a pair. Ken soon arrived in the refrigerated section of the store. Almost every shelf was empty, but he did manage to find one last carton of six eggs, just what his mom needed. Depositing the carton in his shopping basket, Ken made his way back to the front of the store, checking out in the express lane. He gripped the shopping bags tightly, being careful that the eggs weren’t harmed from the swinging of the bags. Arriving back in the parking lot, he was pleasantly surprised to see one of his former classmates, Jacqueline Brown. As he approached, she saw him coming. “Ken? Kenneth Dix?” She was extremely pretty, as was befitting one of the most popular girls in school, and kept her chestnut-brown hair cut just below her jawline. Her soft, warm facial features and bubbly personality belied the sharp intellect hiding underneath. She and Ken had been partners a few times in various subjects, and he had helped craft her entrance essay to the University of Washington. This earned her a full ride scholarship. In spite of her popularity, they had worked well together, and Ken even dared to call her a friend, at least in his own mind. They had never hung out on a social basis; her circle of friends would never have let her live that down. Still, times had changed. They were both out of high school, after all. What could it hurt to ask? “Jacqueline? Wow, I never thought I’d see you back here. Thought you escaped to cooler climates?” “Yeah, Seattle is nice, but nothing beats Christmas at home,” she replied, adjusting her UW sweatshirt. “You back for the same reason?” “Uh huh. Mom pretty much insisted. She won’t settle for anything less than a full family gathering on Christmas Eve. I’m just grabbing a few last things for her. But yeah, it’s great seeing you again. You, uh, you look good.” “Um; thanks,” she replied with hesitation. “I’m, uh, gonna be home for a couple of weeks. Would you want to, I don’t know, hang out sometime? Maybe grab a bite to eat? My treat.” “Well, Ken, that’s sweet of you to ask.” she said almost to herself. As she paused, her eyes suddenly lit up as if she had gotten an idea. “Alright! Here, let me give you my number.” She scribbled a series of digits down on a scrap piece of paper, writing her name next to them. “I’ll, um, talk to you later, I guess?” “Sounds great!” Ken couldn’t believe it; he had actually done it! He had asked out the prettiest girl he had ever known! Moreover, she had given him her number! Things were definitely looking up. “Dick!” a voice behind them yelled. Ken turned, immediately recognizing Jason Brown, Jacqueline’s fraternal twin brother, along with his two flunkies, Brian and Barrett Sullivan. Jason had been the star quarterback at his high school, and the Sullivan boys were his best offensive linemen. They often served as his muscle off the football field, as well. Ken was intimately familiar with these three, as they had made it their mission in high school to make his life a living hell. Being stuffed in lockers, having his wallet stolen, all were commonplace with them. The three approached, attempting to appear imposing, which they were from the perspective of the ever-scrawny Ken. “I’ve got nothing to say to you guys,” Ken muttered as they approached. “Well I’ve got something to say to you, Mr. Kenny Dick,” Jason growled. “Just shut up and leave me alone,” Ken replied, his blood boiling at the use of Jason’s longtime nickname for him. “No! You shut the fuck up and listen!” Jason said, grabbing Ken by the collar of his tee-shirt and flinging him against his car. In the process, Ken dropped his shopping bags, the jugs of tea landing directly on the egg carton. “Jason! Stop it!” Jacqueline protested. Undeterred, Jason threatened. “Listen fuck-wad, you stay the hell away from my sister!” “She’s an adult, dickhead! She can have anyone she wants as a friend!” Ken protested. “You don’t belong on the same Planet as her! You’re nothing’! A pathetic sack of guts your dumbass mother decided to give a name to! Know what? Just do us all a favor and drop dead!” Enraged at the insult to his mom, Ken swung a wild haymaker at his assailant, but Jason was more than ready, pinning Ken’s arm back against his car. Jason then delivered a crushing punch to Ken’s gut, dropping him down to his knees. Before leaving, Jason knelt down next to his gasping victim. “Next time, I won’t be so nice. Next time; I might just kill you myself. See ya around. Dick.” Turning to his sister, Jason said, “Come on, time to go home.” Jacqueline looked down at the pitiful form of Ken before muttering, “Sorry, Ken.” The trio of boys sauntered off across the parking lot, laughing and high-fiving at their antics. Jacqueline followed right behind them. Ken picked himself up and inspected his groceries, discovering the crushed eggs in his bag. Swearing and cursing, he grabbed the misshapen carton and went to throw it in a nearby trash can. “No chess pie tonight.” As Ken returned to his car and began his drive home, Jason and his flunkies watched on from his car, still pleased with their efforts. “You shouldn’t have done that,” Jacqueline said in a lecturing tone. Jason turned to face his sister. “I do what I gotta do, Jacqueline. That fuck-wad has no business getting friendly with you. He needs to learn his place.” “Be that as it may, I can take care of myself,” she replied firmly. “Take care of yourself? Wait; you didn’t?” “I did. Jason, someday you’ll learn that there are more subtle and effective ways to ward off undesirables. Trust me, Ken won’t bother me ever again.” Back at Home. Upon arriving back home, Ken couldn’t bring himself to tell his mom about the incident with the eggs. He instead told her that the store had run out altogether. She had spent many sleepless nights in the past worrying about the constant bullying her son was subjected to in school. Ken didn’t want to give her anything else to worry about. By this time, has uncles had started arriving, and the living room was soon filled with the sounds of football games. In Ken’s mind, these were no more thought provoking that the mindless Christmas specials he had found earlier. Ken went up to his room to take a hot shower, as well as get some alone time in the process. As he stripped down, he saw a bruise beginning to form on his stomach from Jason’s punch. He winced in pain as he touched the tender skin. Shit; that’s not going away for a while. Ken took some Tylenol for the pain before stepping into the shower. The hot water helped relax his body, and the steam gradually built up, clearing his mind a bit. He finished after a while and, after making sure his door was shut, flopped facedown onto his bed. After laying there for around an hour or so, his mom finally called him down to rejoin the family for dinner. Taking his seat at the table, Ken glanced around the room at his various family members. His mom had two older brothers, Lee and Stan. Though Lee was tall and still relatively youthful looking at forty-five, Stan was shorter and beginning to bald as he approached fifty. Still, both of them had one notable thing in common as far as Ken was concerned: they were both still jocks at heart. Ken had never known his father; it had always just been him and his mom. He could tell that his uncles tried to be male role models for him, but their efforts were usually ill-conceived attempts to “man him up.” Never once did they understand his introverted tendencies, and always tried to get him to be more of a people person. After a while, Ken stopped paying their advice any attention. It was striking to Ken how similar Lee and Stan’s families were. They had both married beautiful, blonde cheerleaders, and now both had sixteen-year-old daughters, both of whom were among the most popular girls in school. It all sickened Ken; they were just perpetuating the stereotype of pretty and popular being the be-all, end-all in life. As the family ate, Ken remained silent for the most part. The adults were engrossed in discussions about their jobs, and the two daughters were giggling and playing on their phones the entire time. None of this was relevant to Ken. “You know, I saw something interesting today,” Lee said as dessert was being brought out. “I was at Kroger filling up my car, and saw you in the main parking lot, Ken. Looked like you were, uh, having some words with a few guys out there.” Shit! He saw that? Not wanting to worry his mom, Ken replied, “It; it was nothing.” “Nothing, eh? Is that why that punk punched you in the gut?” With a worried look on her face, Helen asked, “Ken, sweetie, what is he talking about?” She walked around the table to Ken’s seat and lifted up his shirt, seeing the bruise on his abdomen. “Was it that Jason boy again?” “Mom, just let it go.” “No! Ken, you know I worry about you!” “You worry about Me? I think you need to worry more about your brother!” Ken shouted, his anger exploding at last. “Right, Uncle Lee? Come on, you see your own nephew being ganged up on in a parking lot, yet you do nothing to help him out?!” “A man’s gotta learn to fight his own battles,” Lee replied in a calm voice. “No. You want to know what a man does? A man sticks up for his Family! No. Matter. What! You stood there and watched your own nephew get beaten up. That says a hell of a lot more about you than it does me. And if that’s family; I don’t want any part of this one.” Without a word, Ken stood and left the dining room. He then grabbed his MIT hoodie and headed for the front door. As he was about to get into his car and drive off, he saw to his frustration that his uncles’ cars were parked in the driveway behind him, blocking him in. Cursing under his breath, he prepared to leave on foot. “Ken! Come back inside, please!” Helen called after him, running down the driveway. “No. I’ve got to go out; clear my head.” “Ken, it’s Christmas Eve. Please, come be with your family.” “Mom, aside from you, not a single person in that house feels like family to me,” Ken replied coldly. “I’ll; I’ll call you after while.” Ken walked off into the cold Georgia night, not knowing for sure where to go or what to do. Nobody else was out, as they were all at home with their families. Remembering the square in historic downtown Alpharetta, he decided to head in that direction. Maybe the quiet walk would do him some good. Arriving in the town square, Ken walked along the sidewalks for a bit, peering into the darkened windows of the various shops and restaurants. Everything looked so different to him with everyone gone for the day; it all seemed so peaceful. As he continued to walk, he soon saw City Hall in the distance. In front of the building was a large green space, which was teeming with a surprising amount of activity for it being Christmas Eve. Ken moved closer, now spying a large gathering of people sitting on picnic blankets, all bundled up in coats and hats. Ahead of them, a large screen projected the classic film, It’s a Wonderful Life. Though Ken was never into the Christmas cheer, as it were, he felt strangely drawn to watch a few minutes of the film from a distance. He soon began to regret that decision, as the movie had reached the point where George Baily had an arrest warrant out for him, lashing out at his family in anger. Watching him get drunk and punched in a bar fight, Ken began to feel sick with anger. Despite all his efforts to help better the world around him, the universe conspired against George Baily; just as it seemed to be conspiring against Ken. Unable to watch a moment more, he turned and walked into the nearby park. Again alone with his thoughts, Ken sat on a bench near the fountain in the center of the park. He contemplated many things, as he often did in solitude. He thought about his piss poor excuse for a family, intent on changing him into what they say he should be. If only they could love him as he is. He thought about Jason Brown, a perpetual asshole that managed to get all the beautiful women his heart desired. If only the universe would serve up his just desserts, rather than conspiring against Ken. Sighing in frustration, he stuffed his freezing hands into his jeans pockets. Jacqueline! Feeling the scrap of paper still in his pocket, Ken suddenly felt a glimmer of hope in an otherwise dreary day. He needed something, anything to lift his spirits, and hearing her kind, sweet voice might just do it. Hell, he didn’t even care anymore if she was interested in him in a romantic sense; he just needed someone to listen and understand him. Digging out his phone, he dialed the number. After a single ring, a message began to play, seeming to be read by a game show host. “Congratulations! You’ve reached Live 95.5 FM’s world-famous Loser Line! Live 95.5; featuring the best entertainment in Seattle! If you’ve reached this message, you have attempted to hit on a girl Way out of your league! That poor young lady wants nothing to do with you, but you just couldn’t help creeping on her! That’s where we come in! Now you know what a loser you really are! So leave the girl alone, loser! You’re doing everyone a favor! If you’d like to leave a message for the world-famous Loser Line, begin speaking at the tone!” Beep! Ken hung up the phone in quiet disbelief. How could he have been so wrong about Jacqueline? They had worked so well together in school, and he even considered her a friend! She always spoke so kindly to him, how could this have happened? Was she really as nasty and shallow as her dumbass brother? Was she really just that good of an actress? As he pondered all this, Ken’s rage finally exploded out of him. “That two-faced bitch! Who the fuck does she think she is?! I trusted her! Hell, she would never have gotten a full scholarship without my help! All I ever did was Like her! And after all that, she doesn’t even have the decency to turn me down to my face?! What The Fucking Hell? At least her brother was honest about his disdain. She’s far worse! I can’t imagine how evil she’d be if a person actually offended her?” Slumping back down onto the park bench, every thought that entered Ken’s mind brought him lower. Jason was an ass, but then again, he didn’t know how to act any different. Uncle Lee was a moron, but then again, he had no malicious intent. But Jacqueline; she was the last straw. He had trusted her, opened up to her, and she repaid him by committing the single most cruel and senseless act Ken could ever imagine. Everything was crashing down around him. As he continued to sulk, Jason’s words entered into his mind once more. “I should just do everyone a favor and drop dead; is that what you want, Jacqueline? Seems like you agree with your brother, or you wouldn’t have given me that number.” Ken reached into his pocket, withdrawing a folding knife. It had been a high school graduation present to him from his grandfather, before he passed a few months later. A far cry from the typical Swiss Army knife, he unfolded the shiny, four-inch blade, which stood in beautiful contrast to the wooden handle. Inscribed in the wood were Ken’s initials. He had not used it for anything yet, never had any need to. As he stared at his reflection in the blade, Ken kept replaying Jason’s cruel words in his mind, to do the world a favor and drop dead. “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.” Ken mumbled. Just as he took a firm grip on the handle, preparing to take the knife to his throat, an unfamiliar voice came from off to the side. “Hey!” Gabrielle’s Christmas night. Gabrielle Libertine relaxed in a lawn chair, savoring the crisp, cold air of Christmas Eve. This was her favorite time of the year, and being able to enjoy an outdoor showing of her favorite Christmas film, It’s a Wonderful Life, made it even better. It all fit in perfectly with her life philosophy: live for happiness. Not only her own, but as much as could be had for the world around her too. “You want the moon? Just say the word, and I’ll throw a lasso around it and

Adventures of Dirk: The Celebrity Damsel In Distress

DIRK ENCOUNTERS A STRANDED MOTORIST WHO LOOKS VERY FAMILIAR. By Original Aramis [https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=3234956&page=submissions]. Listen to the ►Podcast [https://archive.org/download/fall-short-stories/Adventures%20of%20Dirk%20-%20Celebrity%20Damsel%20In%20Distress.mp3] at Steamy Stories [http://feeds.feedburner.com/Steamy-Stories]. [https://64.media.tumblr.com/83170f0f6fc1887b260b56a28cbd78d3/6e5b20ba59a81adf-10/s640x960/c39871a2437ee06bb39b309cccbfa0e9b2efae00.jpg] It was a simply beautiful day, just perfect for riding; bright sunlight, clear sky, not too hot, no wind to speak of, absolutely perfect. Dirk had been on the road riding with his club since early morning, and now it was very late in the afternoon, and he was headed home.  He had spent the last two hours at the clubhouse with his brothers, having a few cold ones after a long and enjoyable day on the road, and now he was heading for his house with the sun setting behind him. The brotherhood of his club and the pleasure of riding the roads with them was the reason he joined the club in the first place, and he was already looking forward to the next ride with them. He was riding down a back road that was far enough off the main track that it wasn’t used all that often, and it was one of his favorite roads to ride for just that reason. People driving cars, or cagers as they were known in the biker world, were the single biggest threat to anyone on a motorcycle, and Dirk avoided heavily traveled roads whenever he could. He was just rounding a bend in the road when he saw a car pulled off to the side of the road with what appeared to be a woman standing next to it, looking down at the right front tire which was flat. He slowed his bike and then pulled off the road, parking behind the car, a fairly new black Mustang convertible. The woman, a tall blonde wearing a gold sleeveless blouse, black slacks and flats, looked at him with apprehension as he got off the bike and walked over to her. No doubt she was sizing him up, just as he was doing the same to her. She was a stunner, to be sure, and from what Dirk could see beneath the form-fitting top and slacks she was wearing she had a body to die for. Dirk guessed that she was about 50 years old or so, but she certainly didn’t look it either in her face or her body. Dirk was a boob man, always had been and always would be, and the woman standing next to the car certainly filled the bill. While not huge her boobs were big, bigger than average, which pleased Dirk to no end. And from what he could see beneath the fairly tight top and snug slacks she was wearing this woman was a very fit and trim 50. He could tell she was apprehensive because he had ridden up on a Harley and was wearing the colors of an MC; Dirk had encountered this before and knew how to handle it. His boots crunched in the gravel as he walked up to the car, stopping at the trunk to keep some space between them until she was sure he wasn’t going to attack her. She turned to face him as he stopped. You need some help, ma'am?“ he asked, putting his hand on the trunk of the car. Dirk could see some of the apprehension leave her face when he used the word ma'am, which was exactly his intention. Yes, I do!” she said, giving him a nervous smile. As you can see I’ve got a flat, and I have no idea of how to change a tire!“ Do you have road hazard on your car insurance?” he asked. If you have that you can call for a tow truck, and the driver will change your tire for you at no charge, he said. Yes, I do, but they always take so goddamn long to get here!“ she said, her smile broadening just a bit as she became more comfortable with him. And I really don’t feel like standing out here on the side of the road way out in Bumfuck Egypt while I’m waiting for the tow truck to get here!” She put her hand to her mouth and paused for a moment before continuing. I’m sorry, I always curse whenever I get nervous or upset, and right now I’m a little bit of both. No need to be nervous, ma'am, all bikers aren’t like what you see on TV, he said, trying to reassure you. Most of us aren t, actually, so don’t let the colors fool you. Now would you like me to change your tire for you?“ he asked, and her face immediately brightened. You’d do that for me? For some strange woman you’ve never met before?” she asked, her eyes bright. You’re hardly a ‘strange woman, and yes, I’d be happy to change your tire for you!“ Dirk replied. Thank you so much!” she said, a smile on her face. She took a step towards him, extending her hand as she continued. I’m Caroline,“ she said, introducing herself. Dirk stepped forward and took her hand, shaking it as he spoke. Dirk, he said, returning her smile. Nice to meet you, Caroline! Now let me get at this tire so you can get on your way,” he said, releasing her hand. Fifteen minutes later he was done, standing next to the Mustang and wiping his hands on a shop rag he’s gotten out of the saddlebags on his bike. That temporary tire is next to useless, so you might want to get your real tire repaired or replaced as soon as you can, like tomorrow, he said, nodding to the donut tire now bolted onto the front right wheel. And stay off the major highways with it, those things aren’t designed for highway speeds. I’ve seen them literally disintegrate at those speeds, and it didn’t end well for the driver. Thank you, I will, Caroline said, looking down at the temporary tire before looking back up at him. And thank you so much for stopping to help me, Dirk, you’ve been a real gentleman in more ways than one!“ she said, reaching out and touching him on the arm as she spoke. The smile on her face was genuine this time with no trace of nervousness. You have to let me pay you for this,” she said, looking into his eyes. Nope, I wouldn’t dream of it!“ he replied. I was raised to respect women and do right by them, so this is just a normal thing for me. She smiled at him again as he said this. Well, then, at least you have to let me buy you a beer!” she said, pausing for a moment before continuing. Or would you rather come to my house and have it there?“ she asked, the look in her eyes changing. I think we’d be much more comfortable there than in a noisy old bar, don’t you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. That all depends on what you have in mind, he said, grinning at her as he played her game. She grinned right back as she replied. I guess you’ll just have to come to my house and find out, won’t you, Dirk?“ she asked coyly. I guess so, he said, smiling at her. Great! Just follow me, it’s not that far!” she said. She walked around the front of the car and got in, starting the engine as Dirk walked back to his bike. He tossed the shop rag back into the open saddlebag, closed and secured it, then got on his bike and fired it up. She pulled her Mustang out onto the road, being careful not to spray him with gravel as she did so, and Dirk followed her. Ten minutes later they were pulling into the driveway of a single-story ranch-style house sitting in the middle of about five acres of land. The closest neighbor was at least that far away, and Dirk liked the house right away. The garage door opened as Caroline’s car got close, and she pulled the Mustang inside to park it. There wasn’t enough room in the garage for his bike, so Dirk parked it in the driveway just outside of the garage and got off. He walked into the garage just as Caroline was closing the door to her car. We’ll go in the side door, so just follow me,“ she said, turning to walk to the door. Dirk couldn’t help but notice and admire her firm, shapely ass as she walked in front of him. 'Damn, but she looks good for a broad her age!’ he thought to himself as he followed her into the house. Caroline pressed a button on the garage door opener control that was on the wall next to the door, and the garage door began dropping down behind them. The side door took them right into the kitchen, and once inside Caroline dropped her car keys and purse on the counter. She walked over to the refrigerator and opened it, then looked at him and smiled. Imported or domestic?” she asked, standing behind the open refrigerator door. Domestic, please. I can’t stand imported beer. Most of them are bitter and have a nasty aftertaste to them, he replied. Domestic it is, then!“ she said, bending over to retrieve a beer. When she stood up she was holding a dark brown bottle of beer in each hand, and she nudged the refrigerator door with her hip to get it to swing closed. He was happy to see that the beer just happened to be his favorite brand. She held one of the beers out to him, smiling as she spoke. I don’t like imported beer much either,” she said, twisting the top off her beer, then dropping it into the trash can at the end of the counter. And for pretty much the same reasons you stated. I only keep in in the house because some of my friends like it. She held her beer up in his direction and made a toast. So, here’s to new friends!“ she said, giving him a big smile. He smiled back, clinking the neck of his bottle against hers. To new friends, he said, and then they both took a drink from their beers. The beer was cold and good, and it went down smooth. Let’s go into the living room and relax, shall we?” Caroline asked, motioning towards the big living room adjacent to the kitchen. Sounds good to me, Dirk replied, following her out of the kitchen and into the living room. The room was huge, bigger than any living room he had ever seen, and was sunken on top of that. The circular walls of the sunken living room were lined with tan leather couches and love seats with a big, round coffee table in the middle, and in the middle of that sat the biggest, most elaborate bong Dirk had ever seen. Caroline walked down the short stairway into the living room and then sat down on one of the couches. She patted the couch next to her, smiling at Dirk, so he walked down into the living room and sat down next to her, keeping a respectable distance between them. They still didn’t know each other all that well, although Dirk knew more about her than she thought he did. In any event, he was playing it cool for now. :So tell me, Dirk, what do you do when you’re not rescuing damsels in distress who are stranded on the side of the road,“ she asked, looking at him and taking a sip from her beer. Not much, actually, he replied, taking a pull from his beer, before he continued. I guess you could say I’m kind of retired. My parents were killed in a car crash when I was 24, and I inherited enough money and holdings that I don’t have to work again for the rest of my life. I’m so sorry, Dirk. Caroline said, frowning. She ran his hand along the side of his face as she spoke, her hand was warm and soft, and it gave Dirk a chill. Thank you, but it’s okay, he said, looking into her eyes. I’m okay now. Took a while for me to get over it, to get used to the idea that they were gone, but thanks to the help of some of my friends and a therapist who really knows her shit, I managed to get my life on track. Good. I’m so glad to hear that,” she replied, smiling. So now for the most part, I just cruise around the country on my bike, either that or I’m out riding with my club, he said, sitting back on the couch. Sounds like a pretty good life if you ask me, Caroline said. “Is there a Mrs. Dirk or a lady friend in the picture,” she asked, raising her eyebrows. No, I’m too much of a nomad for that, Dirk replied. Besides, I’m way too young to settle down or get involved in a serious relationship. I’m too busy enjoying myself and having a good time, he said, chuckling a bit. And getting laid as much as you can along the way, I imagine,“ she said, grinning at him as she raised the bottle to her lips and took a sip. Yeah, there’s that, too, Dirk said, grinning right back at her. He took a pull from his beer before he continued, the thought crossing his mind that it was time to let her know that he knew about her. So, what have you been up to since you retired from the industry?” he asked, taking her by surprise. And what brings you all the way out here from Los Angeles?“ She smiled a half-smile as she looked down for a moment at the beer in her lap. It was the kind of smile you make when you know you’ve been caught at something. She looked up at him, still smiling as she spoke. When did you recognize me?” she asked quietly. As soon as I got close enough to get a good look, he replied. So that explains the you’re no strange woman comment you made out on the road, then,“ she said, and Dirk nodded. I had a feeling you may have recognized me, but I wasn’t sure. You were being very cool about it all, I must say. It wasn’t easy, let me tell you, he said. When I was a kid going through puberty, you were my favorite porn star of all time. I saw just about every movie you ever made, and I couldn’t even begin to tell you the number of times I, well, that is, I mean. He stammered, realizing that he’d gotten carried away with his enthusiasm and said too much. The number of times you masturbated over me?” she said, finishing his sentence for him and grinning at him. Well, yeah, he said, slightly embarrassed. She laughed at his obvious discomfort, then put her hand on his leg as she replied. It’s okay, Dirk, really it is,“ she said. I’d be insulted if you didn’t masturbate over me. After all, that’s the whole point of porn, isn’t it? I mean, who watches porn and doesn’t masturbate?” she asked, leaning back and taking her hand from his leg. Good point, he said, taking another drink from his beer. Did you come hard, Dirk?“ she asked, and Dirk just about choked on his beer. He turned and looked at her, and she leaned over towards him as she spoke again, bracing herself with one hand on the couch next to him. Did you come hard for me?” she asked, her voice a throaty whisper. Dirk nodded as he replied. Yeah, I did, he said in a low voice. No porn star ever made me come the way you did, then or now. She smiled at this, looking deep into his eyes as she spoke again. Would you like for me to make you come now, Dirk?“ she asked, her voice nearly a whisper. She put her hand on the top of his thigh and rubbed up and down as she spoke, and Dirk could feel his cock beginning to twitch as the blood started rushing to it. I mean, after all, it’s the least I could do to repay you for helping me today, don’t you think?” I’d have to be crazy to say no, he said, leaning forward and putting his beer on the coffee table, then sitting back. And I’m a lot of things, but crazy ain’t one of them. She smiled at his reply, her hand still moving up and down on his thigh, but moving up higher with every stroke. You remember what my specialty was, don’t you, Dirk?“ she asked, still smiling and still rubbing his thigh. As I recall, you gave one hell of a blowjob, he replied, and she grinned at this. I gave the best blowjobs in the business,” she said proudly. Nobody could suck a cock like me, and I mean nobody,“ she said, sliding her hand up and onto the growing bulge in his jeans. She gripped his cock gently through his jeans as she continued. Would you like me to suck your cock, Dirk?” she asked, her voice a whisper. Would you like for me to suck your cock, make you come in my mouth, and then swallow it?“ She squeezed his cock harder through his jeans, feeling it growing beneath her hand. I’d like that very much, Dirk said in a low voice. She broke out into a big smile at his reply, then slid off the couch to kneel in front of him, spreading his knees out as she did. She sat down on her haunches, her hands on his knees for support, then running her hands at the tops of his thighs towards his crotch. She looked up at him, a smile on her face, as her hands met at his cock. She massaged and squeezed his cock through his jeans for a moment, looking down at the growing lump in his jeans, then moved her hands to the button at the top. She opened the button and then slid the zipper down slowly, looking up at him again as she did so. When the zipper was all the way down, she pulled his jeans open, looking down as she did so, and was pleasantly surprised to see that not only was he not wearing any boxers, he was also clean-shaven. She looked up at him, a smile on her face, her eyes sparkling with desire as she spoke. Oh, look, a naked cock!” she cooed, holding his jeans open. Is it for me?“ All yours. Dirk replied. Let’s set him and his two brothers free, shall we?” she asked, reaching inside his jeans to cup his balls in her hand. She gently lifted them up and pulled them out of his jeans, moving his jeans aside with the other hand. His cock and balls were now fully exposed, and she was pleasantly surprised to see that Dirk shaved his balls as well. She looked up at him as she spoke. I’m so glad to see that you shave, Dirk,“ she said, her voice husky. It makes giving you a blowjob and sucking on your balls so much easier. Caroline smiled at him again and then lowered her head down to his cock. She ran her warm, wet tongue slowly along the underside of his semi-erect cock from the base to the tip, leaving a glistening trail behind. She did this several times before she moved down to his balls, licking them just as slowly and lovingly as she had his cock. She wrapped one hand around his shaft, pumping it slowly to full hardness as she planted her soft, warm lips on his balls. She opened her mouth and sucked one of his balls into her mouth, rolling her tongue around it as she lifted her head up, pulling on it with her mouth. She repeated the process with the other one until his balls were slick and shiny with her spit. Dirk watched in amazement as she worked him over. He simply couldn’t believe that the porn star of his youthful dreams was actually in front of him on her knees, sucking on his cock and balls. And damn! but she was good. His cock was rock hard and throbbing by now, her hand wrapped firmly around it and pumping it as she worked on his balls. She released his ball from her mouth with a gentle pop, then ran her tongue over and around both of them before opening her mouth as wide as she could, placing her lips on his sack. With gentle but steady suction, she sucked both of his balls into her mouth, and Dirk could see her cheeks bulging out as her mouth was filled with his balls. She looked up at him for a moment, still pumping his cock with her hand, and then continued working on his balls. She rolled her tongue around them as much as she could, but her mouth was so full that all she could really do was suck on them and tug on them by lifting her head up. She did this for a few moments, then let his balls slip from her mouth. Aha,” she sighed, her mouth open. I just love sucking on a man’s balls,“ she said, grinning up at him as she continued pumping his cock with her hand. Almost as much as I love sucking on his dick. She ran the flat of her soft, wet tongue up the underside of his cock from his balls to the tip, opening her mouth wide when she got to the head and lowering it down over the first three inches of his cock, before closing her lips around it. She immediately applied suction, slowly pulling her mouth back up his shaft until just the head was in her mouth. She sucked hard on the head, swirling her tongue over and around it, before sliding her mouth all the way down his shaft. She took his e