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 The transition from sleep to fully awake was so close to instantaneous the
difference hardly mattered.  It had been like this ever since the day I
crossed that thin line between who I was before and who I am now.  The
sheets were like oil, sliding over my bare skin, sending tingling tremors
through my body as I sat up and swung around to put my feet on the floor.

   I looked straight into the mirror, something I'd been avoiding since
That Day.  The night before I had deliberately moved the dressing mirror
out of my mother's sewing room and set it up so it would be the first thing
I saw when I awoke.  So that I would have to face myself and accept what
had happened.

   What did I see?  A beautiful young woman, very blonde with her hair
falling down past her shoulders- once brushed it would nearly reach the
small of her back.  Her shoulders are squared and smooth; her breasts are
full and firm, topped with pretty nipples that point towards the ceiling
even before she unconsciously sits straighter to amplify the effect.  Her
waist is narrow and her belly is flat, almost athletic, with a hint of
developed abdominals.  Her pelvis flares nicely, her legs are long and
shapely, her arms are firm and again, they hint at being athletic.  Her
eyes are large and shockingly brilliant turquoise blue.  Standing, her body
falls naturally into an alluring pose and she turns in front of the mirror,
noting the perfection of her own ass, the dimples at her lower back, her
fair, lightly tanned and unblemished skin.  She is just shy of five feet
and seven inches tall.

   I get terribly turned on just looking at myself, and it disturbs me.  My
birth certificate says I'll be nineteen in a few months and that my name is
Randalla Ariel Corwin, but I go by Randi.  I don't remember a thing about
my life before waking up six months earlier, at least not about the life
told by pictures and diary entries, by family and friends.  I remember a
nightmare life before that, but with each passing day it gets harder and
harder to recall.  The doctors say I had a stroke, something about a
congenital defect, and that they were able to repair it with microsurgery,
but I'm still not sure.  I look at myself in the mirror, naked,
desirable... and I know what a guy would see, what he would notice, what
would turn him on.  I know it with a certainty that almost scares me.

   A knock at the door and my mother asks if I'm up- I have a therapy
appointment this morning.  I tell her I'll be down after my shower...  I
can't help myself, I just love showers.  The sensations of hot water on my
skin, lathering the body wash over my curves, touching myself; it always
leads to an orgasm or two.  Today I have five.  I take extra care with my
hair, giving in to the need to be absolutely radiant.

   When I dress it is in white lace Victoria's Secret bra and panties and a
light, short white sundress finished off with white Roman-style sandals
with three-inch heels.  Until today I have always dressed down, though I
know it's nearly impossible for somebody with my natural endowments.  Now I
am going to embrace what I seem to be.  I use makeup for the first time
since That Day, applying it sparingly because I hardly need it: just
accents to my eyes and a slightly rose-tinted gloss to my lips.  The total
package is nothing short of heart-stoppingly beautiful and when I float
down the stairs my mother sees me and bursts into a smile the likes of
which I don't ever remember seeing before.  Mother is nearly fifty, but
seeing her it is clear where my physical charms come from.  She was a
fashion model and actress and also a Playboy Playmate of the Year.  In my
diaries there is a lot of speculation that she had made a few porn videos
before she cleaned up her act and met dad, but never anything definitive.

   "Oh, honey," she beams at me, "you look absolutely stunning.  It's like
you're Ariel again."

   My older brother is there and he glances sharply at our mother because I
used to go by my middle name.  Calling myself Randi is a new thing, a
recognition that I had changed in a fundamental way, and I had been pretty
militant about it, but I understand what she means and I just smile seeing
Colin, my brother, relax as he realizes I'm not going to make a scene.

   "I know," I said, smiling just a little, "I mean there must be something
there, right?  I may not know who I am, but there's no reason to pretend I
don't know what I am."

   The drive to the appointment is different today because I feel like I'm
not hiding anymore.  I always draw attention, but today I draw lots and
lots of attention as I thread my red Miata convertible through the morning
traffic.  After parking I walk nearly two blocks, letting my legs and body
move naturally instead of forcing myself into what Colin calls my
`linebacker' walk.  Men stare, a few even comment and as I pass the
construction site next to the medical office building there is a chorus of
coarse approval from those bold enough to speak up.  By the time I reach
the door I am tingling all over.

   The session with the therapist, Dr.  Allison, is a departure from the
norm.  She takes one look at me and asks simply, "What's changed?"

   I've never lied to her before- I just never saw a reason to, so I don't
lie now.  I tell her it has been six months since That Day, and I've
decided I'm not dreaming and there isn't anything left for me to `go back
to'.  I tell her about the mirror, about my arousal.  I tell her
everything.

   "I don't see any point in pretending I'm not what I am," I finish, after
a nearly fifteen minute monologue, "Not physically, anyhow."

   There was more.  Dr.  Allison was concerned about any plans I might have
to become sexually active, and she reiterated that persons who suffered
brain injuries like mine often became dangerously less inhibited in their
sexual behavior, so that was what we talked about for the rest of the hour.

   "Well, I have to admit," she concluded as we ended, "you seem more
relaxed and at ease with yourself than I ever remember since we started
these sessions." Colin was still home when I arrived, but Mother had
already left for work.  She would not be home for several hours.  It was
time.

   "How long will you be here?" I asked Colin when I found him in the den
watching TV.

   "I'm working second shift this week so I have until three." Five hours.
Perfect.  I sat on the coffee table in front of him and noted the way he
looked at me- furtive, but unmistakably desiring, with a certain overtone
of shame.  It confirmed what I had read in my old diaries.

   "I need to talk to you," I said, "about what started when I was thirteen
and you were fifteen."

   If I'd had any doubts, Colin's reaction dispelled them: he literally
fell in on himself, his shoulders slumping as his head dropped.  A moment
later, he sobbed.  "I...  I was hoping you wouldn't remember that..." he
started.  I interrupted him.

   "I don't.  But Ariel kept a diary..."

   "It was encrypted," he said, looking at me, puzzled, "Did you remember
the password..."

   "No, I just did some searching on the internet and found the tools to
hack it.  That's not important.  Colin!  Listen to me." I leaned forward
and put my hands on his shoulders, forcing him back so he would look into
my eyes.  "You did not molest your little sister.  Ariel came after you. 
She knew what she was doing, she had her reasons, and she was very clear
that you were the one who put a stop to it.  I can show you the diaries."

   "She started it?" he asked, clearly not believing me.

   "Yes, she did.  Every time you `accidentally' walked in on her naked or
half dressed?  She set it up on purpose.  The night you saw her
masturbating?  She knew you were there.  And that fist time, when you
`forced' her to go down on you because you were drunk?  She found you
passed out in front of your computer- there was a porn video running and
you were naked from the waist down.  She just started doing it and you woke
up.  She was very explicit about it and very detailed.  She seduced you."

   He absorbed that, then looked up at me again.  "We never did it...  we
never..."

   "I'm a virgin, technically," I smiled.  "This is going to sound weird. I
don't want to restart what happened back then.  I don't remember it.  But I
kind of want...  I need to relive a little of it...  if you're willing..."

   I shook deep inside as Colin's tongue slid along the lips of my pussy,
feeling myself melting inside while I pulled on his hard cock, licking the
swollen head of it.  It felt so good just to be naked like this with a man
and again my body remembered what my mind had forgotten.  I opened my mouth
and felt him jerk as my lips sailed down the shaft of his cock, pushing
down, down, down until the head of it was against the back of my throat. 
Swallowing his cock seemed like the most natural thing in the world and I
shuddered as his tongue thrust into my pussy while I pulled his cock into
my throat, swallowing over and over, massaging his meat with the muscles of
my neck, then backing off to gasp for air as my pelvis twists
uncontrollably against his face, then down again, swallowing, swallowing as
orgasm lances through my body, the urge to take his cock is so strong I
nearly black out because I forget to breath and when he finally joins me I
back off enough to let his seed flood into my mouth.  I hold it there,
tasting the warm, slippery, musky maleness of his semen before quietly
swallowing it down.

   We go at it again, then again, and I find myself echoing the line I
found more than once in Ariel's diary.  I wish he had the courage or the
hunger to just throw me on my back and fuck me.  Like Ariel I also know he
won't, that I would have to ask him to.  Unlike Ariel, I do not lack the
courage, so as our third act unfolds with me kneeling before him giving him
head as he sits on the edge of the bed I am waiting for his passion to
reach the right level, the perfect pitch before I make my offer.  I back
off his cock and stare up at his face, my eyes wide, and lips parted.

   "Please," I whisper, "Please fuck me."

   He moves with such speed and strength I cry out as his hands grab my
arms, drag me to my feet and then he spins, throwing me onto the bed so
hard I literally bounce into the air and he grabs my ankles as I'm still
airborne, flipping me onto my back and pulling my legs apart as I hit the
mattress again.  My heart hammers in my chest as Colin swarms onto me and I
feel his hard cock seeking me out, eager to consummate our incest with this
final act.  When he finds me it is like a hot, thick spike prying my flesh
apart, making my body jump at the sudden sensation of his penis filling me.
The breath rushes from my lungs in a shuddering rush and I have to gasp,
drawing in small sips of air each time he eases back before thrusting
forward again, driving the glowing heat of his cock deeper and deeper
inside me.

   It hurts a little, Colin was big and I had never done this before, but
the deeper it goes the easier it gets and when I feel him sliding the full
length of it back and forth through me my body cannot resist the urge to
move with him, my legs pulling up and back to clasp about his thrusting
pelvis, making me moan as he drives it impossibly deeper and his body
settles down on top of me, his strong hands on my hips lifting me so they
can slide down to my ass and I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders,
clinging to him for dear life as we grind together and my pelvis melts from
the intense heat and pressure of his cock plunging into me.

   Nothing had prepared me for this, not my fantasies, not all the
self-gratification of the past six months- those orgasms were just a pale
reflection of what gripped me now as my pelvis twisted and bucked in
response to the primal need to take it deeper inside me, feel it harder
inside me.  At the same time it is a whole-body experience, the sensation
of his muscular body against mine, the way the sheets feel against my back,
the caress of his breath hissing past my right ear, the squeaking of the
bed, the mattress bouncing back against the force of his thrusts...  all of
it contributing to the pulsing heat throbbing rhythmically through the core
of my body, making every muscle clench tight as it grows hotter, more
intense with every inward lunge of his cock...  the sound of his belly
slapping hard against mine, feeling his balls straining at my crotch every
time he plants it deep, my throat working as animal sounds escape me.

   When it peaks I am paralyzed, every muscle locked rigid in ecstasy, my
nerves crackling with electric delight, my pussy sucking at the hard thing
slashing into me, his cock like a granite pillar, pulsating as he moans,
shaking as he thrusts hard, brutally, slamming it into me and holding it
deep as it throbs, my belly suddenly a white-hot star, expanding to
envelope everything, every scrap of my body every shred of all I am filled
with his seed...  It releases me slowly from its grip, my body shaking with
aftershocks of pleasure as I cling to Colin's heavy body on top of me. 
When I can finally speak I whisper in his ear.

   "Thank-you.  Thank-you so much."

   He rolled off me, making me groan as his still-hard flesh slid out of
me. I rolled to my side and laid my hand on his chest- his face looked
troubled.  I wanted to empathize with him, to tell him I understood how he
felt, but in all honesty I did not understand.  Colin was my brother, but
to me he was just a guy I'd known for six months.  To him this was incest,
to me it was convenient and pleasurable and suddenly I felt a little
guilty...  and then I did empathize a bit.  In a very direct way I had used
him, just as he had always felt he used me when we were younger.

   So I talked to him about it, frankly, honestly and holding nothing back.
I'd wanted to have sex with him because I was uncomfortable in my own skin
and I felt more comfortable with him- I was so damned horny that I was
going to do it sooner or later and it seemed like the right choice.  It was
fun, and I was glad we did it, but we never would again...  and in the end
it was closure for him and release for me.  Telling him Ariel had started
their affair had not been enough, but offering myself and telling him why
was what he needed to absolve himself.  Now that I knew I could be with a
guy for real and enjoy it, I was free to start living.

   Colin showered and left for work while I lay on my bed touching myself
and reliving the hours we'd shared together.  When he was gone I spent two
hours showering, making myself up and dressing, then left a note for mother
telling her I was up at the University visiting a friend for the weekend.
Most of my old friends had fallen by the wayside- they expected Ariel and
could not deal with Randi.  But there were exceptions, mostly girls Ariel
had seen as only acquaintances, and one of those had mentioned a party that
night.  With a small overnight bag in the trunk I hit the highway.

   I had been to the campus a few times before- my freshman year was
interrupted by the stroke, actually.  This would have been the end of my
second semester and the campus was pretty torqued up with finals
approaching so there were lots of things going on.  The party my friend had
mentioned was actually a collection of parties scattered all over and we
set out as a group of six, making the rounds, but our numbers quickly
dwindled as girls split off to stay behind with boyfriends or guys they
just met.  We were all on the prowl in some way, but for me it was
absolutely a hunt and when I found myself alone I let my ears guide me to a
place loud and packed with people- one of the frat houses on the outskirts
of the campus.

   I had been getting a lot of attention all night, dressed as I was in
very short, tight blue cotton shorts and a thin white-lace top that left my
midriff bare.  I hadn't worn a bra so very little was left to the
imagination, particularly if the light hit my top just so, rendering it
nearly transparent.  When I stepped through the open front doors of the
frat house plastic cups of beer magically appeared in my hands and two guys
were at my side.  They were both older, probably seniors, and as I drained
one cup I let them guide me inside.

   I was being cut out of the crowd and herded into a room at the back of
the house and as soon as we got there I understood- this was the
upper-classmen's party, the seniors about to graduate.  I'd been spotted as
a possibly abuse-able freshman girl and corralled for this
party-within-a-party.  There were other girls there and I noted none were
even slightly unattractive and most were either very drunk, or well on
their way.  When my second beer was half empty I suddenly had a fresh one
in my other hand and was urged to polish off the old one before it got
warm. The third beer had a bite to it, maybe a shot of grain alcohol to
speed along the process of getting me good and plastered.

   I sipped at the beer, flirting with the guys in the room, watching as
stumble-footed giggling females were peeled away and accompanied upstairs
by one or sometimes two guys.  I managed to pour most of my third beer into
a potted plant before making a show of finishing it off.  Another glass
appeared before I lowered the empty cup from my lips, but this one tasted
normal- still all that alcohol in such a short span started to hit me hard
and I scanned the crowd, looking for the one I wanted, finding him nearby-
just a normal-looking, not-very-drunk guy.  I managed to do a convincing
job of stumbling into his arms and giggled as his arm slid around my waist.
I drained my cup and looked up at him.

   "It's so hot in here!" I half shouted.  The room was packed with people
and the music was a little loud, and it was very warm- my top was plastered
to my breasts from my sweat.

   "Yeah," he replied, "lots of people and no air conditioner.  I'm Paul."

   "Randi.  God, I need some air!  Oh, thanks," that last uttered as
another full cup of beer appeared in my hand.

   "It's a lot cooler upstairs," Paul offered, "Quieter, too..."

   I looked into his eyes, pursed my lips as if thinking about it, then
grinned at him.  "Let's go!"

   Holding me close to his side, not willing to risk losing his prize in
the crowd, he led me to the stairs I'd seen others using for the past hour.
Jealous eyes followed us and I heard Paul quietly but firmly reject a
couple of offers of `assistance'.  He wanted me all to himself.  Up the
stairs the air cooled as we entered a long hallway and he led me past
closed doors behind which I could hear sounds of sex, some quiet, others
loud and raucous.  At the first open door Paul guided me inside.

   "Better?" he asked as I moved to the bed and sat.  It clearly was not
his room- there was just a queen-sized bed, a chair and a TV sitting on top
of a small refrigerator.  It was a room where a frat brother could bring a
girl during a party to get some privacy.

   "It'll be better once you close the door," I said, smiling.  He looked
at me and I started unlacing my top.  He stared for about five seconds, and
then kicked the door closed and stripped off his t-shirt, stepping to the
bed.  I dropped my sweat-soaked top on the floor.

   Paul slid one arm around my waist and pulled me close as his other hand
went for my chest.  I pushed closer and forced my lips onto his.  The
alcohol actually made it more intense for me as I let him strip me of my
shorts.  I don't even know when or how he lost his pants, but I was on my
back and there was the hot, sweet pressure of his cock against my opening,
my slick flesh enveloping him, his pelvis flexing as he forced it into me,
making me shriek at the outrageous sensation, then groan as he started
moving rhythmically in and out of my cunt.  He was savage, slamming against
me so hard it made my teeth click together, but my body leapt and squirmed
as if it had a mind of its own, my skin hungry for the sensation of his
body moving against mine.  We coupled like animals- it was brutal, quick
and satisfying in its own way, but I wanted more.

   Paul and his frat brothers did not fail to deliver.  They fed me
alcohol, but that was nothing compared to the fire raging in my blood.  At
first it was one at a time, then often it was two, once even three- I did
not particularly enjoy that, but I had to experience it.  It lasted more
than a day, the only break being to clean up and take quick showers, and I
never took the showers alone.  Gang-bang, gang-rape, those were not the
right words- it was just a long, serial sexual experience with more than a
dozen men and two or three other girls, and it ended suddenly shortly after
dawn of the second day when the guy I was straining under finally came,
then rolled over and quickly fell asleep.

   I showered thoroughly and dressed and during that time nobody stirred so
I slipped out the back door and made for my car in the guest parking lot
across campus.  It was a cool morning and my light clothing left me pretty
exposed, but I found it refreshing, the clean air clearing the fog from my
mind.  I sat in the car for a few minutes, collecting myself and deciding
if I was okay to drive home, then started up the engine and headed out.

   At home I mercifully missed seeing mother and went straight to my room.
I undressed, looking at myself in the mirror: there were bruises on my hip
bones from dozens of strong hands gripping tight.  Other than that there
wasn't a trace of the weekend's exertions.  I rolled into bed expecting to
sleep, but I merely dozed as images of the past 36 hours drifted through my
mind: greedily going down on one guy as a second took me powerfully from
behind, his hard belly slapping against my ass as he fucked me; pinned
against a wall by a giant black man, at least seven feet tall, as he forces
more than a foot of hard meat into me; grinding my crotch against a mouth
too soft to be a man's, my tongue sliding over her throbbing clit and along
the thick shaft gliding in and out of her pussy...  it just went on and on
until my own orgasms shook me fully awake.
It was like with Colin: something I felt I had to do, but not something
I would do anymore.  I guess it was all about checking my sexual
calibration, first making sure I could enjoy sex with a man, then pushing
to see what my limits were.  Apparently I had few limits, if any, where my
sexual appetite was concerned.  It was another nail in Ariel's coffin
because her journals were pretty specific about her dislike of the idea of
group sex or of being with another girl.  Even giving her the benefit of
the doubt because she'd clearly had only limited experiences with her
brother it was hard to avoid the understanding that Ariel had been very
straight and pretty conservative: she'd been saving for marriage what I'd

thrown away just to satisfy my own curiosity.

   I was much more in control of myself after that weekend, or maybe I
should say I chose to keep my pants on because I was still screamingly
horny and masturbated furiously several times a day.  I threw myself into
topics that interested me, mastering fluency in French and German over just
a few weeks and gobbling up classical and modern history like it was
mother's milk.  Higher mathematics, beyond simple calculus seemed too hard
until I began applying it to basic physics.  I did two summer sessions at
the local community college, then a full year at a small college in new
England, and I found myself testing out of so many classes I was ready to
complete my Bachelor's degree in English with minors in History,
Mathematics and Applied Physics in a single year.  I drove my roommates
nuts because I was ALWAYS in my books or online or at the library.  I
fended off guys without even thinking about taking a short break just to
satisfy some of my baser appetites.

   As the spring semester rolled to a close, also marking more than
eighteen months since That Day, I found myself just a few credits shy and
decided I would finish them up part time the following year and actually
take the summer off- I'd been studying for a year straight, amazing my
family, my teachers, my counselors and myself.  It just seemed to come
naturally to me, but as I completed my last final exam and packed for home
I knew it was time for a break.

   I got a part time job at a Starbucks near home and with only that to
occupy me my more carnal needs began demanding attention.  It wasn't like
there weren't opportunities- even with the crappy economy Kathy, my
supervisor, noted that the cash flow was always a good deal higher when I
was on shift.  She attributed it to what she disparagingly called my "T and
A Quotient".  I knew she was right, but I also knew there was a great deal
more to it as well.  I talked with people, discussing all sorts of topics
and doing it knowledgeably, with an almost encyclopedic command of the
facts of whatever we might be discussing or arguing about.

   I got hit on a lot, but I mostly passed.  I was looking for something
specific- I didn't know what it was, but I knew I would recognize it when I
saw it.  Halfway through the summer I found it in Alex and once I did it
was so clear to me I couldn't understand why I hadn't known.  Alex was
nearly twice my age and had a daughter just a couple years younger than me.
He was a widower, his wife having succumbed to a swift and merciless cancer
when their daughter was only eight.  He was involved in some kind of
international financing work that often required him to jet off across the
country or the world and we always had the most fascinating conversations
when he came into the store- he was handsome and engaging and it was a
shock to me when I realized just how badly I wanted him.

   It was a mutual realization, really.  One day he came into the store
with a pretty green-eyed, red-headed teenage girl and introduced her as his
daughter, Kara.  She was sixteen and I instantly picked up the tension in
the air between them and realized he was pretty much running me past her
before even thinking about asking me out on a date.  I thought that was
pretty cool of him, and I said so to Kara when Alex strategically managed
to leave the two of us alone for a little while.

   "He's been gushing about you for weeks," she laughed, "I was kind of
surprised when he asked me to meet you."

   "Why?" I asked her, sitting at her table and sipping at an espresso
during my break.  "Your father always talks about you like you're the most
important person in his life."

   Kara looked down at the table, the back up at me.  She sighed.  "Dad
hasn't dated since mom died..."

   "And he wants your permission to ask me out," I said without thinking as
the light bulb suddenly flipped on over my head.

   "If he did ask, what would you say?" The way she asked the question I
knew I had to answer it, but I didn't want to just yet so I took my order
pad from my apron and scribbled the answer on the back of a slip, tore it
free and folded it in half to conceal it.  I handed it to her.

   "That's what I would say," I told her, and I stared into her eyes,
grabbing her attention so suddenly she actually sat back, "But the question
from me is- what would you want me to say?"

   "Would it matter?"

   "It wouldn't change my answer, but it would probably have a pretty
strong influence on how things turned out.  So?"

   Kara thought about it for a minute or two and I quietly sipped my
espresso as she went over things in her head.  Then she smiled and slid the
paper across the table to me.

   "It might be cool to have you around to talk to," she said.

   The very next day Alex asked me if I'd ever been interested in shooting
and that afternoon we were at the gun range.  He taught me how to handle a
revolver, a .357 Magnum firing regular .38 rounds, and then introduced me
to the Glock 9mm.  Of course all of this required a lot of close contact as
he guided my aim and helped me adjust my stance and whatnot, but he never
went for any cheap gropes and I enjoyed it immensely.

   The shooting range was followed by a string of `fun' dates with little
of what you'd think of as romance or seduction involved.  We were carefully
feeling each other out, this older man and I, making sure there was
something more than coffee house chat and physical attraction between us. I
had made up my mind pretty early on, but Alex needed more time and I let
him have it because I knew what he was afraid of.  I was young enough to be
his daughter and while the "Trophy Wife" and mistress were not uncommon
amongst his crowd it was very important to him that I be completely
comfortable.

   Finally he seemed satisfied and he asked if I was interested in
attending a dinner his company was putting on in the city that coming
Friday.

   "It's a black-tie affair," he told me, "We would need to get you an
evening gown and all the accessories.  It's lots of international corporate
and Diplomatic people.  The Secretary of State will be there and maybe the
governor as well..."

   A final test then: could I move in his world?  I gave him an
enthusiastic yes and he handed me his credit card and told me not to worry
about the cost, but be ready to be picked up at seven on Friday.  I had a
few days so I did some research first- fortunately his company had pictures
of previous events on its web page and I found myself hoping he was serious
about not worrying about the cost because I was going to need thousands to
be even close to the same league as the women I saw.

   Mother freaked out, of course.  I'd told her about Alex and she'd been
wary, but accepting; however, she saw this as a major escalation of our
relationship.  I don't know how I was able to placate her, but within a few
hours she was volunteering to help me with the shopping and we went into
the city together where we spent nearly $8000.00 on a gown, shoes, handbag
and other accessories, including lingerie because mother insisted.  She
pleasantly shocked me by being very blunt.

   "If you make a fool out of yourself he'll take you home at the end, part
with a kiss, then slowly start distancing himself from you.  If everything
goes great he'll probably decide to get a suite at the hotel and invite you
to spend the night- if he does, you want to knock his socks off when you
drop this gown to the floor."

   Lingerie in this case was a garter, hose and panties- no bra because the
gown was a very low, black, barebacked design that hung from one shoulder
and depended on my firm, full bust and just a bit of flesh adhesive to stay
in place.  Four-inch strapped heels, a thin gold choker with a single
mounted sapphire, a matching bracelet and a thousand-dollar hand bag
finished off the outfit, and on Friday afternoon, $800.00 worth of spa
treatments for my nails, face and hair.

   I had a hard time believing what I saw in the mirror when I was finished
preparing- I looked like royalty, and I felt so deliciously decadent in all
that expensive clothing.  I was still taking it in when mom knocked on the
door and told me there was a limo out front.  I heard her at the door,
heard Alex's voice- he was being very carefully charming and I took a deep
breath and started down the stairs.

   He stopped in mid-sentence and just stared as I floated down the steps.
Mom was beaming and I felt myself glowing, almost blushing as Alex took in
the site of me.  He didn't whistle or make any sound, he just smiled and I
knew I'd totally floored him.

   "You look magnificent," he finally said.

   "Thank-you.  You're pretty sharp yourself."

   He was in a well-fitted tux that looked very Armani and everything was
just so.  He offered me his arm and I kissed mother on the cheek before
letting him lead me out to the limo where the driver stood with door open
for us.  In the car Alex looked me over again.

   "I love everything but the earrings," he said and my hand immediately to
my ear to touch the tiny golden loops I wore.  I was about to ask him what
was wrong with them when he produced a tiny case from his pocket.  He took
my hand and placed the case in it.

   "For you," he said.

   I opened it slowly and gasped at the two perfect blue diamond studs. 
Each had to be more than half a carat!  They had to cost more than my
entire outfit combined!

   "Alex!  I can't..." but he pressed a finger to my lips.

   "Nonsense, with the sapphires these will perfectly highlight those big
blue eyes.  Here, allow me."

   He deftly relieved me of the gold hoops and replaced them with the
studs. Despite their size they were not at all too heavy.  We made small
talk as we rode into the city, sipping champagne while he filled me in on
just what these parties were like.  I told him I was a little nervous and
he told me to just relax and be myself and everything would be fine.

   The ballroom was already filling up when we arrived and there were some
folks milling about the entrance, greeting the new arrivals.  They all knew
Alex and when he introduced me they seemed at a loss for words for a
moment, but these were seasoned men and if they hesitated it was for the
barest moment.  When we entered the room I sensed a change in the
atmosphere, the noise level dropped considerably.

   "You must be pretty well known if everyone notices when you arrive," I
whispered to him.

   "It's not me they are noticing, Randalla."

   It was the first time Alex had ever used my full first name and I liked
the way it sounded, and I knew he was telling the truth.  It should have
been intimidating, but it just rolled off me as if it were the most natural
thing in the world that a room full of people would fall silent when I
walked in.  If there had been any nervousness before it was now gone and I
reminded myself that I was here for two reasons: to enjoy myself and to
make Alex look good.

   It was a delicious evening in every way one could imagine.  Like a fairy
tale Princess at the Ball I circulated, mingled, talked, danced... 
sometimes people were a bit dismissive until we had a moment to talk and I
could actually see them reappraising .  Beautiful young women were simply a
commodity to people like this, but I showed them I was so much more.  I
never mentioned being a college student or working at Starbucks, deftly
deflecting questions seeking out that kind of information because I
preferred they assess me based solely on what I presented rather than
letting them drop me into a category.  Women were the hardest, of course,
but somehow I knew how to disarm their suspicions and mute their
jealousies, doing it with a natural ease that quite frankly surprised me.

   I met people I had seen many times on the news, including the French
Ambassadors to the United Nations and United States, the Governor, some
Hollywood types and many of Alex's co-workers and superiors.  Afterwards I
would hear them talking to Alex when they thought I wasn't paying attention
and their words simply stunned me.

   "She's stunning, Alex.  Where did you find her?"

   "Absolutely magnificent."

   "Good, God, Alex, where have you been hiding her?"

   Talk about having your ego stroked!  I listened to the two French
Ambassadors speculating on my carnal talents, I fended off a pass from a
very attractive woman with a Russian accent.  I danced with so many men I
lost count...  and eventually the night started drawing to a close.

   I was lightly tipsy, having been sipping champagne all night, when Alex
gathered me in and suggested it was time to go.  I emitted a resigned sigh-
I so didn't want this to end, but I let him lead me to the door, pausing
here and there to make our goodbyes.  We finally exited to the lobby... 
and I knew even before he spoke.

   "Send the limo away," I said with a quiet smile.  Alex took my chin in
his hand and lifted my face to his, and we kissed for the very first time.
Many eyes watched, noting that we went to the express elevator to the upper
floors and not out front to the parking valet.

   We were not alone in the elevator so we had to control ourselves, but
nobody could mistake the signals flowing between us and I had not a care in
the world.  We got off on the 30th floor and our suite was just down the
hall.

   Inside I gratefully stripped off my shoes as Alex undid his tie and
slipped off his jacket, and then I was in his arms.  We left a trail of
tuxedo pieces between the doorway and the bedroom.  Alex was pulling off
his socks, still wearing his boxers, when I reached up to my left shoulder
and released the onyx clasp of my gown.  He stopped and stared as I let one
side fall and carefully peeled the front away, then let the garment drop to
the floor.

   Mother had been right- for a moment he looked like his heart had stopped
as I stood before him in my jewels, a garter belt, silk hose and the tiny
black lace panties that tied at my hips.  He stepped close and I could feel
the heat from his body radiating against my skin.  He reached for me, his
hands gripping my upper arms and I felt myself trembling I was so excited.

   "It's been a long time since I've been with a woman."

   I didn't say anything, just pressed myself up against him, feeling his
erect cock against my flat belly through his shorts, his chest against my
breasts as his arms encircled me and he crushed me to him.  My hands slid
up his back to his head and I pulled his mouth down to mine.  His arms
moved down and his hands gripped my ass, kneading my cheeks before pulling
me up so my feet left the floor and without hesitating I brought my legs up
and clasped them over and around his pelvis.  I felt him shaking as I
squirmed against his hardness and I knew he needed to have the sharp edge
of his hunger blunted.

   "Sit on the bed!" I gasped into his ear when or mouths parted for a
moment.  He did it and I swarmed off him and onto the floor, pulling his
shorts down his thighs and pushing his knees apart, gazing at the thick
pillar of his cock as I knelt and dropped my open mouth over the swollen
head.

   He cried out, "Randi!" and I lapped my tongue softly back and forth as
my lips slid down his cock, cheeks hollowing as I sucked hard, bathing his
meat in my flesh.  I slid down, pulled, up, slid down, did it again and I
felt him begin to swell in my mouth as a strangled cry escaped him.  His
cock throbbed and I pressed down until I felt the head of it deep against
the back of my throat.

   I swallowed, slowly and rhythmically, inviting him to unleash himself
and his cock felt like it exploded, thick gobs of warm, silky musk pulsing
forth to be swallowed down.  I sucked and sucked until he was finished,
then sat back on my heels and smiled up at him.  He reached out and I gave
him my hand- he drew me up onto the bed and his fingers began tugging apart
the hip-knots of my panties while his mouth attacked my nipples.

   What followed nearly defies words: he simply ravished me.  His mouth
assaulted my breasts, sending trembling waves of electricity coursing
across my chest and down my spine, then he rolled me to my back once he'd
relieved me of my panties and started working his mouth down my belly.  He
took his time, strong hands first easing my thighs apart, and then sliding
up my sides to grip my breasts, fingers rolling my hard nipples as I moaned
in delight.  My spine arched as his tongue finally slid across my clit and
I was gripped by a sudden sweet seizure of pleasure, cumming before he had
even really gotten started.

   He tortured me with pleasure, his mouth and his hands playing my body
like a musical instrument to make me moan and squeal and squirm while he
deftly relieved me of my garter belt and stockings before finally lifting
himself up and opening my thighs wider as he moved onto his knees between
my legs.  I was a shaking, sweating mass of crackling nerve-endings and I
didn't know where I would find the energy to do him justice, but when his
cock touched me it was like a rush of energy flowed though my body and my
pussy clutched at his hard flesh as he penetrated me.

   I gazed up into his eyes as he took me and what I saw made everything
snap into crystal-clear focus: there was hunger, of course, but there was
more.  There was tenderness, a longing in his eyes the likes of which I'd
never seen before.  Even as his flesh entered mine, our bodies joining in
this delicious carnal sharing, it was our eyes that joined us fully,
locking on each other as I reached up and drew him down onto me, his hand
stroking my cheek just before we kissed.  I felt like my heart would burst
in my chest as a wave of emotion swept through me, bringing tears to my
eyes even as my body shuddered and squirmed in delicious rhythm with Alex's
as he surged into me again and again.

   It wasn't sex, it wasn't just fucking: we were making love, and it was
sweeter, hotter, more delicious and fulfilling than anything I could ever
have imagined.  Our bodies melted into each other, pressed so tightly
together I couldn't tell where mine ended and his began.  The whole world
was just a seething, throbbing ocean of carnal fire enveloping me, waves of
it crashing through me in rhythm with Alex's thrusting cock as he forced me
higher and higher, orgasm tearing through my body again and again...  yet
there was a deeper hunger.  There was a longing in my belly, a hunger to
feel him plant his cock deep and fill me with his seed, feel it flood into
my womb and take root, sparking life inside me.  The desire was so sudden,
so overwhelming it terrified me even as it made me buck harder beneath him,
shoving my pelvis up to meet his savage thrusts until he was moaning,
driving to his balls inside me, holding it deep as his thick cock jerked
and throbbed inside my tightly clinging flesh.

   I made a sound, wailing out as I felt him cumming, the slippery flood of
semen making my entire body convulse with ecstasy, tears streaming down my
face as I gasped for air and let it out in high-pitched squeals of delight.

   We made love twice more that night, and each time it was exactly like
that...  only better.  I can't explain it, why there was this incredible
hunger to have him make me pregnant- I don't want children and I am
protected, and even in the heat of the moment I knew this was the case. 
Nonetheless from then on every time we made love that was the thought that
pushed my pleasure to heights of insanity.  Just thinking about it during
the day would make me warm, tingly and distracted.

   One year to the day after our first date Alex asked me to marry him.  By
then we were all but living together and Kara, his daughter, had made it
pretty clear she would be upset to see me go away.  I wanted to do it,
wanted to so badly that I nearly said no because trying to claim something
you wanted so much just couldn't work out, could it?  But he took out the
diamond ring, slipped it onto my finger without waiting for me to reply and
then I was kissing him and the idea of saying no was just unthinkable.

   "One thing I insist on," he told me once our lips parted.  "No more
working at Starbucks, okay?"

   I giggled, really, I did.  "I'll give my notice right after I show them
this," I said, holding up my left hand and for the first time actually
looking at the engagement ring.  I nearly gasped because it was so simple,
yet so beautiful, and the diamond...  what a rock!  I'd learned not to be
impressed by expensive things, but it was just an exquisite gem, more than
a carat in a cathedral setting with six quarter-carat stones, three on each
side.

   "Oh, I insist," he said, smiling.

   Our wedding was in Las Vegas, with his daughter Kara and my mother
present as witnesses, and for the next year we had an intensely sexual and
intellectual relationship...  and then it occurred to me I wanted to have a
baby.  Up until then it had just been a fantasy, being knocked up by Alex,
but it became a hunger inside me.  Just one child; I wanted just one child
by him, something to be the total union of the two of us.  I was terrified
by the thought of actually giving birth, but the hunger for his child was
overwhelming- it was all I ever thought of every time we made love.

   Alex was called to Australia for two months about eighteen months after
our wedding.  I was still trying to figure out a way to tell him what I
wanted, but when we parted at the airport he whispered something in my ear.

   "Stop taking the pill and we'll make babies when I get back."

   I told Kara and she was all for it.  Something made me go into a
pre-pregnancy exercise class in town that turned out to be a superb support
group once they got over the idea I was married to a man old enough to be
my father.  And of course I stopped taking the pill.  I lost 11 pounds and
was in the best physical condition I had ever been when Alex returned from
Australia.  I met him at the airport and our kiss was so full of promise
and longing I was sure everyone nearby knew what we would be up to that
night.

   Absolutely nothing ever frightened me as much as that night when I
crawled naked into our bed.  My husband joined me moments later and
gathered me into his arms.  His lips touched my ear as I quivered in his
grasp.

   "The most intense love-making I can remember is my first time with my
first wife, then when she and I decided to have Kara, then the night you
and I first made love...  and now there will be a fourth time etched in my
memory."

   "I'm scared," I whispered, finally voicing the thing lurking deep in my
heart.

   Alex kissed me, rolling me to my back without foreplay or any of the
touching and caressing and orgasms that usually preceded our love-making. I
didn't care- I was dripping wet and so hungry for his cock I could hardly
breathe.

   "I know," he whispered, "but you are going to have my child.  We're
going to make that child now.  And you will be such a perfect mother..."

   I shuddered as he penetrated me, his penis invading my belly, moving
deep, moving firmly- this wasn't sharing pleasure like we had before.  This
was a man claiming his woman and planting his seed in her.  He fucked me
hard and deep, his cock stroking into my belly until he felt me shaking
with the convulsions of helpless orgasms, and then surging to climax inside
me, planting his seed deep...

   My husband took me like that nearly every night.  My first period was a
shock because I couldn't imagine he had not made me pregnant.  A second
period did not arrive and I swear I remember the night we conceived,
fucking hard under the full moon on the roof of his Manhattan penthouse,
feeling his hot flood filling me and somehow knowing it had found its mark
and was taking root....

   It was a soul-shattering moment, a complete break with my nightmare
past-life.  There was no escaping it now, no escaping my femininity, no
escaping my womanhood.  Alex filled me with his seed and it found its
target and filled my fertile belly, impregnating me.  I lay with him after
that moment, knowing he had succeeded, that even now his semen was
assaulting a willing ova inside me.

   "I'm going to have your baby," I whispered to him.

   "I know," he replied, and then his mouth was on mine and soon we were
making love again...

   Pregnant.  I was pregnant, with child, a bun in the oven...  just
thinking it was enough to make me shiver with pleasure, but I didn't tell
anyone until my second month.  Alex wouldn't touch me the first few weeks,
but then we made love every single day, at least twice a day, and when I
was far enough along to show he got even more amorous- my belly swelling
with his children (by then we knew it was going to be twins) made him even
hornier and I swallowed lots of cum when I was too uncomfortable to have
sex, but I never once resented his hunger for me.  I loved the fact that
being pregnant with his babies made him so horny for me.

   At seven months my doctor put me on bed rest, then two weeks later
hospitalized me as a precaution.  I didn't feel like anything was wrong and
I spent a lot more time on my feet in the hospital than was recommended,
but at eight months my body was gripped with a sharp pain in my belly and
it had begun.  They assured me that at eight months there would be no
problems and the ultrasound showed my babies in good position for a normal
birth.

   All I had was Alex and determination- no pain meds, no epidural.  I
screamed and pushed our children into the world and afterward I lay
exhausted and tingling, clutching two warm, sleeping forms in my arms as
Alex stroked my hair and kissed my lips, for we were complete.