Date: Mon, 06 Mar 2000 08:26:04 EST
From: Toni Podols <toni526@hotmail.com>
Subject: Randi 12

Randi XII, a continuation of adventures experienced in my previous stories,
is somewhat different this time.  Although I had decided to be good while
away with my family on vacation, something came up that I hadn't
anticipated, but it was so intense, I had to write about it.  It involves
meeting someone with whom I worked while living in Israel many, many years
ago.  Obviously, as with most of the people in my stories, names have been
changed.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.  It meant so much to me.

Please keep your feedback coming to my toni526 hotmail address.  I love it
and answer each
email personally as soon as possible.

And, now...

Randi XII -- How I Spent My Winter Vacation

After nine days touring the wonders of London's West End, Paris' Art
Galleries and the breathtaking beaches and tranquility of a villa near a
tiny village in the South of France, Ryan, the girls and I were finally
beginning to be renewed.  Freshly tanned, relaxed.  And now, Israel.

I had been up for the past 24 hours, nervously pacing from room to room,
surfing the Internet and chatting with my Seattle friends Magic, Sue and
Jeffie, searching for something that I couldn't even define.  I looked at
my watch and realized for the first time that it was the middle of the
night.  Our plane was leaving in six hours and I was still wide-awake.
Frustrated, I grabbed my windbreaker, placed my combat knife into the back
of my mini shorts (Hey!  You gotta take care, even in France!) and quietly
opened the sliders to the deck.  I walked down the stairs to the beach,
staring up at the huge new moon, enjoying the gentle touch of the warm
breeze against my face, my mind wandering, until I reached a grouping of
large rocks several hundred yards down from the villa.  I climbed up and
sat down, drawing my legs beneath me.

I listened to the gentle hush of the sea lap at the shores, eyes closed, my
mind drifting.  I had just about decided that this was a very big mistake.
Dangerous.  Stupid.  When I first moved to Israel, I was an eager fifteen
year old, exiled to live with my elderly aunt and uncle as a kind of
punishment for committing a cardinal sin in my parent's eyes: an affair
with a married man, my martial arts instructor.  Angry, troubled, generally
pissed at the world; I gave them a hard time for a while.

My aunt and uncle would have none of it, of course.  It wasn't long before
they had me buried in work, school, new friends and I fell in love with the
country, the people, the traditions, the history.  Israel had become my
homeland.  Upon graduation, I entered the IDF, the Israeli Defense Force.
My God, how exciting!  How my girlfriends in the States would have envied
me.  Surrounded by gorgeous guys and girls.

Two years later, I was on holiday in at a fabulous resort in Elat, trim in
a micro bikini the size of postage stamps and flirting with the world.  It
was well past midnight at the outdoor bar on the beach near the spa with a
dozen others, dancing wildly with a beautiful Sabra, running my fingers
through the soft curls of his hairy, muscular chest.  Teasing him with
feathery kisses, I danced away from his grasping hands, laughing, my booty
shaking like a leaf, when my wrist was suddenly taken by a stranger who had
quietly approached.  I turned to see an extraordinary vision, a tall, dark,
very exotic beauty whose piercing dark eyes stopped me in my tracks.
Entranced, I allowed myself to be gently led toward a secluded alcove where
she introduced herself as Baracha Cohen.  As we approached a group of
rocks, she handed me one of the two beers she held in her free hand and sat
down, facing me.  As she spoke, I sat opposite her, listening, enchanted,
for hours as she spoke of adventures, of duty, of service.  And, of danger.
Ultimate danger, excitement.

Thus was I recruited into what would be three years of excitement, duty,
service and danger.  And, terror.  And horror.  All of which culminated in
my witnessing an event of such enormous import that I had to leave my
adopted home.  And, now I was returning.  Thomas Mann was wrong.  Wasn't
he?

"Yes, he was.  You can go home again," Ryan whispered softly in my ear.
Evidently, I had been thinking aloud as Ryan came looking for me.  I leaned
my head onto his broad shoulder, rejoicing in the feel of his strong arm
around me, feeling so safe.

"Sorry to interrupt your thoughts, Sweetie.  I was worried about you," Ryan
whispered, kissing my cheek.  "Thinking about tomorrow?"

"Yeah," I breathed, snuggling closer.  "I was.  Eighteen years, Ryan.  I
thought those memories were successfully buried, just as yours were.  I
thought I was safe.  But now, it's just a short flight away.  Memories of
wonderful times with family and friends; memories of lonely guard duty in a
strange and hostile land; and, worst of all, the memories of the hatred and
the terror that's still there, like a cancer.  Eighteen years since I
walked away from the Mossad and my adopted homeland to return to the United
States," I said.

I looked up into Ryan's eyes, only then realizing that I was crying.  "I'm
frightened, Ryan.  Maybe we shouldn't . . ." His finger touched my lips for
just an instant, followed by his soft mouth in a tiny, gentle kiss.

"Sweetheart, you made me face my demons not long ago.  You saved me.  Why
won't you let me do that for you, now?" he asked, gently wiping the tears
streaking my cheeks.  His lips returned, this time with an intensity that
shook me to my bones, my toes actually curling up in my sneakers.  I
returned his kiss with enormous intensity, my tongue seeking his.

Finally, I pulled back and looked into his eyes again.  "Alright.  We go.
But," I said, wiping the tears with the back of my hand before standing up
and jumping down from the rock and reaching out to him.  "Not before you
take me back inside and fuck my brains out."

Entering the villa, I raced up the stairs, Ryan quickly on my tail, and
dashed down the corridor past the kids' rooms and into the master suite.
Ryan followed, closing and locking the door, leaning against it and
watching hungrily as I stripped off my sweatshirt, and hurriedly pulling my
shorts down my hips, my combat knife clunking to the floor.  Naked, I raced
across the floor and jumped directly into Ryan's arms, wrapping my legs
around his waist.  He held me easily as my arms locked around his neck, his
strong arms beneath my butt, holding me against him.  I pressed my lips
against his, my tongue probing, demanding entrance.  He carried me across
the floor and dropped me on the bed.  Stepping back, he began to undress,
his tshirt first, his broad shoulders flexing, that thick matt of hair,
becoming mostly gray now.  He unbuckled his belt and slid his cutoff jeans
down his legs, leaving him clad only in his shorts.

I crawled across the bed, my breasts swinging wildly, my eyes fixed on the
long, thick bulge that tented the front of his shorts.  Grabbing his hips,
I locked my teeth around that huge bulge, gripping it tightly in my mouth
as I pulled him forward.  Ryan let himself be led onto the bed by my
furious mouth and lay on his back as I shook my head back and forth,
gobbling up the sheathed morsel like a puppy dog with a new toy.  I felt
his hands on my head forcing my face harder into his groin, his cock
growing thicker and longer.

I released his cock from my mouth and straddled him, looking directly at
his face with a feral grimace on my face, my fingers interlaced with his
above his head.  I lay my breasts against his thickly curled chest hair,
dragging my rock nard nipples through the forest, shivering at the touch.
I began to kiss and lick his neck and up through the jungle of fur on his
face, to his lips, soft and hot, waiting for my tongue.  As my tongue
entered his mouth, I shivered again at the touch of his large, calloused
hands freed themselves from mine and gently stroked my back, my hips, my
ass and down my thighs.  The baffle of his mouth softened my scream.

Maintaining the kiss, my hands trailed down Ryan's sides to his hips,
grasping his shorts and I impatiently pulling them down, ripping them in
the process, but starting them down his body.  Ryan's hands took over,
pushing the shorts down, his hips arching as he slid them down over his
ass, down his legs and off.

I screamed anew into his sucking mouth at the touch of his giant rigid pole
as it lay crushed against my pussy.  It felt as though I were straddling a
large limb while climbing a tree in my youth.  That great, huge cock just
waiting for me as I now crawled down his body, watching it bobbing up and
down.  So damn big and thick! I thought, so much for me to take, and all
mine!

I reached for his cock and pulled him to my mouth, stroking its great
length with one hand while massage his massage golf ball sized testicles
with the other.  My tongue stretched out to touch the head of the 8 1/2
inches, covering the soft firm flesh with little stabs.  Guiding that
delicious cock into the O-ring of my mouth, the length of that cock slid
easily down my clutching throat.  My hands slid beneath him to cup his ass,
my fingers teasing the crease, searching for the elusive pucker of his
asshole.  As my finger probed the opening, seeking entrance to his rectum,
his reaction was immediate as he groaned and thrust up even harder into my
waiting mouth.  I controlled the pace, rising and falling faster and
faster, pushing him all the way to the bottom of my throat, then back.  As
I felt his cock begin to expand, I slowly sucked up to the very top of his
cock, tightening more and more, squeezing the tip hard, while moving my
fingers to the base of his sperm tunnel.  I pressed hard, preventing him
from coming until I was ready.

I moved up Ryan's body until I was straddled over his hips, my fingers
wrapped tightly around his cock.  I lifted my hips and positioned my pussy
directly over that great cock, letting the fat head touch the lips of my
cunt, dripping juices already flowing thickly over his cockhead.  Slowly, I
let it enter my pussy, spreading my lips to the breaking point.

God, it was so thick, tonight!  I could feel every little bit of its length
touch the hidden parts of my pussy, deeper and deeper into me, filling me.
God!  Finally, I reached bottom, my ass flush against Ryan's balls.
Leaning down, I began to lave his rock hard nipples, chewing them, running
my tongue roughly across them.  When my teeth began to bite, Ryan began to
buck like a wild stud, thrusting his hips against my clutching pussy.

"Mhphmmmmmmmmmm," I murmured into his ear as my hands moved up to clutch
his head, my lips pressing his, then kissing him over and over, his
forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his eyes, all the time, fucking my pussy up
and down against his giant tool.

"I'mmmm gonnna cummmmm, honey.  Eiiii!  Oh, God, I'm gonna explode!!!" I
hollered

"I'm coming too, yes!!!  Coming, coming!!!," he murmured over and over as
his thrusting picked up the pace.  His cock was expanding now, thicker,
longer, hotter, like iron, pumping and pumping and......

At long last, I felt the first long, hard spurt of his cum splatter against
my cervix, boiling like hot oil deep inside of me, triggering off an
overpowering, orgasm, my screams of passion mixing with his as his come
continued to spray and spray my overheated pussy.  My juices were spurting
around his cock as I came in fury as he froze, his cock buried to the hilt
in my pussy.

We collapsed and within minutes, were asleep, still joined, my body fully
atop Ryan's.

Tel Aviv -- The Dan Hotel

As our plane began its decent through the high, early morning clouds over
Ben Gurion International Airport in Tel Aviv, my heart made a quick detour
and moved into my stomach.  This despite the fact that I'd promised myself,
and Ryan, that I would not let it get to me.  I'd promised myself I would
concentrate on letting the kids learn of their heritage and introducing
Ryan to the wonders of his semi-adopted culture.  I had no illusions that
my coming to Israel would go unnoticed, that my comings and goings in this
wondrous land would not be carefully watched.  Clearing customs, we entered
our waiting limo for a traffic-bound trip to the Dan Hotel in Tel Aviv.  We
entered the magnificent lobby and checked in, receiving a thick packet of
messages that had been left for us.  As we were led to our beautifully
appointed suite, my mind began to flow backwards, thinking of the last time
I had been in Tel Aviv, only days before I left this magnificent country
for almost two decades.

The suite was magnificent.  The girls each had their own room and were busy
unpacking and changing for our first day as I tipped the bellman and turned
to grab Ryan.  Letting him hold me, I forgot for a moment the unease I'd
felt since landing at the airport.  Something was bothering me.  Some
. . . thing that wasn't right.  Like entering your home and you feel
something is out of place, moved.  You don't know what it is, but your
first impulse is to back out and call the police.

Putting it out of my mind, I began to unpack and lay out my outfit for our
first day in Israel.  Several minutes later, I heard the bell, exchanged
glances with Ryan and went to the door.  I peered through the unusual
peephole facility built into the door and saw a tall woman and a very large
man, well dressed and smiling, realizing they were being watched.

"Yes" I asked into the tiny microphone.

A female voice spoke in thick Hebrew, a language that I barely remembered
now, that they were from the US Embassy and wished to welcome us to Israel.
I glanced at Ryan, nodding, and opened the door, welcoming them inside in
English.  As I stepped aside, they entered, both glancing at Ryan,
surveying him carefully.  I suppressed a smile as I walked to the 20-foot
floor to ceiling glassed wall.  As I turned to face them, the woman kept
her face somewhat askance, avoiding direct eye contact.  I wondered why as
the gentleman began to speak.

Ryan and I listened to the spiel with a bemused attitude, patiently waiting
until they had finished.  Ryan offered them each a drink as he wandered to
the bar.  As they declined, I walked to the opposite end of the couch from
Ryan and perched on the arm of a large chair.
  I caught a glimpse of the woman's face and suddenly I knew.  My God, I
knew.

"Ryan, would you get the lady a Hennessey's double cognac with a brushing
of lime, please?" I asked, my evil smile appearing as I stared at the
woman.

"Damn!  I told them you'd recognize me," the woman grunted. Rising and
walking towards me.  Her arms immediately slipped around my neck and her
body melded to mine.  As I hugged Baracha Cohen, tears flowed down my
cheeks.  She pulled back from me to stare into my eyes, her fingers coming
up to stroke away the tears.

"Damn, you're still beautiful," she breathed, carefully checking all of my
equipment.  "After eighteen years."

I gazed at my Mossad recruiter, now about 52 or 53 years old, and saw that
the years had indeed been kind to her.  She was dark and beautiful, a
Yemenite Jew with thick, kinky dark hair, now liberally streaked with gray.
Some lines now around her extremely dark, luminescent eyes, long, long
lashes, high cheekbones, a long, narrow nose and beautiful lips, over
perfect, pearl white teeth.

Funny, isn't it?  Two decades ago, I only noticed that she was beautiful
and wanted so much to be like her.  Now . . .I see her in a different
light.  Tall, slender, with small breasts, long legs.  I began to cry,
silently.

"They told me you were dead," I whispered, touching her cheek with the
backs of my fingers.

"Yes, I know.  Some of us thought it best that we leave it that way,
Darling.  And, then you had to come back, didn't you?" she smiled, her hand
touching mine.

"Ryan?  I want you to meet an old friend, Baracha Cohen," I said,
indicating the beautiful woman now holding tightly to my hand.  "I'm afraid
you, sir, have me at a disadvantage," I added, reaching my hand toward the
rather large agent.

"Not important, Dev," she put in, her hand halting any further action on my
part.  "He's along for protection."

"For you?" I asked.  "If memory serves me well, you're better than any five
men."

"Protection for you, my love," Baracha said, walking to the window and
drawing the curtains.  "Although, judging from what I see here, you don't
need much help from us," she said, nodding towards Ryan.

Ryan and I looked at each other as Baracha led her associate toward the
door, speaking in quite, animated tones.  The man was excited and angry but
deferred to her urging to leave and wait in the hall.  Baracha returned and
placed her large bag on the coffee table, sat down and leaned back, fixing
both Ryan and myself with a grin.  "I'm afraid your being here has raised
some hackles.  Until you leave Israel, my friend and I are your permanent
friendly couple traveling with you."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Hold on!  Why?" Ryan was now getting angry and that
wasn't a very pleasant sight.  "We're on vacation.  We've done nothing.
What about the kids?"

"You don't really think that we're the only ones who know you're here, do
you?  They have long memories, Darling.  You know that.  While you were out
of the region, you were safe.  Now?  We can't guarantee it.  So, we protect
you, whether you like it or not."

"Now, where are your little kidlets?" she continued, leaning back to watch
our faces.

"Hold it, hold it!" I interrupted.  Okay, okay.  I can understand the need
for your involvement.  I'm not crazy.  But, only you.  We don't need junior
out there.  As a matter of fact, I don't want someone that I can whip up on
and he looks as though he could never handle me," I said.  "Anyhow," I
continued, "You we can sell as our company-assigned traveling secretary and
nanny.  We don't want to upset the kids.  Deal?"

Shaking her head, Baracha rose and moved to the door.  "Never could argue
with you," she sighed.  She opened the door and closed it partially,
providing a ringside seat to an extremely animated discussion with her
associate.

"What is this, Honey," Ryan began.  "Are you really in any danger?
Because, if you are, we're outta here now!"

"Ryan, wait.  Let me think.  Please.  Now, yes, it could be," I began, then
stopped.  Something just didn't ring true, here.  "You know, it might be
true, but I seriously doubt it.  At least, not from the usual suspects.
None of them are alive and no one who knew of me survived to tell anyone.
No, I've got another theory, Ryan.  Tell you what.  Take the kids down to
the pool and I'll be down later.  Okay?"

"Wait a minute.  I'm not leaving you alone," Ryan started then stopped when
he saw the look in my eyes.  "Are you sure, Honey?  I don't like this.
You're getting me worried."

"No, I think I've got a direction on it, Sweet Thing.  Take the kids and
give me some time with Baracha.  Okay?"  Several moments later, Baracha
returned.  I was on the balcony, staring down at the city far below, high
above the midday hustle and bustle of a vital city.  Glancing around the
room, Baracha joined me on the balcony.  "Ryan in the bedroom with the
kids?" she asked, looking around,

"I wanted to talk to you privately, so Ryan took the kids down to the pool
through the servant's entrance.  Making the most of the bright sun."

"You let them go alone?  Without any protection?  Randi, I . . .?" Baracha
began.

"So, tell me, Baracha," I interrupted.  "Which of my stories gave you the
clue that I was the author?"  I watched her eyes grow huge as she stared at
me.

"What?  Wha . . . what stories . . .?"

I approached Baracha , taking her hand and leading her to the soft green
sofa against the wall and sat her down.  I perched my butt on the table
directly in front of her, gently stroking the soft skin of her hand.
"Baracha, I doubt anyone in the civilized world calls their kids their
Kidlets.  So, which one?"

Sheepishly, Baracha looked down at her feet.  "Randi 3.  3A confirmed it.
Damn, you're still good.  I taught you too fucking well."

I watched her squirm as if she wished she were anywhere else but here.
"Then, there is no threat against me, is there?" I asked.

"Look, Randi, I'm . . . I'll leave.  I'm sorry," she said, rising and
walking toward the sliders to the suite.

"Hey, hey, hey!  Come back here!  Baracha Cohen, you can't just drop into
my life after eighteen years and pull something like shit on me and expect
to walk away easy, girl!
  Now, what get your candy ass back out here!  I want to know what the fuck
this is all about?"

Baracha stopped, holding onto the doorway, leaning her head against it.
She turned and sat on the couch again, crossing her long legs and staring
at her hands.  I let her take her time.  I was in no hurry.

"When you left, a little piece of me left with you," she began.  "No!  Damn
it!  A fucking big piece.  I was angry, too, because I had to face them by
myself.  I had to satisfy them that you weren't going to be a problem.  It
wasn't enough, you know." She continued, shaking her head in anger.

"They weren't convinced that you would keep quiet.  They authorized . . .
they ordered a team into the field to find you," she went on, walking to
the edge of the balcony, holding on tight, her hands tuning white with the
stress.

"Go on," I said, my skin beginning to tingle.

"I used up every one of my get-out-of-jail-free tickets, but I got them to
cancel it," she whispered, turning to look at Randi.  "I've been owned by
them ever since.  I can't complain," she continued "Money, great living,
everything I could ever want," she said, a rueful smile across her face.
"Except my freedom," she added.

"Oh, my God!  I didn't know, Baracha.  If I had, I never would have left,"
I said, taking her hands in mine.

"Sure.  And your life would have been ruined!  I couldn't let that happen
to you.  I could never . . .  I . . . I just couldn't do it," she said.

Staring into her tear-stained eyes, it finally struck me.  "Oh, shit.
Baracha.  My God, you're in love with me, aren't you?" I whispered, looking
into her eyes.  "All these years and you never said a thing.  Why?"

"Why?" She whispered, her eyes avoiding mine.  "For God's sake, Dev.  You
were so damn straight, why should I ruin your life?  And, now you have Ryan
and a family.
  I just thought that, maybe . . . I don't know, I just . . ."

I placed my finger across Baracha's lips, holding it there for a moment,
gazing into her mascara- stained eyes.  I gently cupped her beautiful face
in my hands and slowly touched my lips to hers.  I heard her gasp and felt
her shiver as I just kept my lips against hers, my tongue still.  My teeth
gently locked around her pouting lower lip, biting down, my tongue teasing
the soft liquid flesh.

"Oh, God," Baracha moaned into my mouth as I kept chewing her lip, holding
her face tightly.  Slowly I released her lip and stepped back, my hands
dropping down to hold hers.  I stared at her, silently watching her.

Age had not been unkind to Baracha.  Her face had aged a little, with tiny
lines at the corners of each eye, larger in the corners of her mouth.  A
small, light colored scar drew a line on her dark right cheek, just above
her ear line, leaving a permanent part in her hairline, the result of a
bullet taken in combat.  The same bullet had taken a tiny chink from her
beautiful ear.  She carried it well, a badge of honor.  Taller than me,
Baracha was slender, athletic, a mixture of soft femininity and masculine
strength.  Her waist trim, hips narrow, her breasts were perfect albeit
small under her golden sweater, her trim legs encased in silken brown
slacks.

But, it was her eyes that told of Baracha Cohen's life.  Dark, almost black
eyes with little golden flecks floating without pattern.  They were so
tired, so sad.  Those eyes had seen too much and would never forget what
they'd seen as I thought I'd been able to do.  Now, I knew that I, too,
would never be able to forget.  The best I could hope for was to put those
memories back in their little hidden place and get on with my life.  Could
Baracha do the same?

Taking Baracha's hand, I led her into the suite and closed the door behind
us.  I sat her down on the couch and again perched on the table corner in
front of her, my hands holding on to hers.

"Bar, I know nothing can make up for what you did for me," I began.  "I
won't even try.  All I can do is thank you and love you.  But, in my way,
Bar.  I can't return the kind of love you feel and I sense you understand
that.  My life is with Ryan and the girls and there can't be any room for
more than that." I whispered, reaching out to gently stroke her cheek.

"I'll always love you, Bar.  You gave my life meaning and purpose when I
was headed in the wrong direction.  You gave me life.  You made me a
survivor and for that alone again, I can never, ever repay you," I said,
settling onto the floor.  But, I do you want you to be a part of my life,
Bar.  I don't want to lose you again." I whispered, tears beginning to
streak my cheeks.

Baracha's tears were now flowing without shame, her eyes alive with their
reflection of me.  "Little Dev," she whispered a derivative of my code name
of so many years ago, her hand stroking my cheek, fingers touching the
tears on my face.  "Now, who's the teacher?"

Baracha's hands cupped my face, her lips slowly descending, touching mine
with a gentle, fairy's touch, a tickle of contact.  I shuddered
involuntarily as her tongue lightly touched my lips, licking all of the
bottom lip first, then across the crease and then to the upper lip.  So
gentle, so loving.  I could feel all of the heartbreak in that gentle kiss
and reached my hand to pull her face closer, opening my mouth to suck in
that gentle tongue.  I could sense a change in the air, a thickening of the
atmosphere as I became so warm despite the incessant throbbing of the air
conditioning.  Tasting Baracha's mouth was like savoring a fine, aged wine,
so sweet and delicious, rolling her juices over and over in my mouth,
neither of us giving in to the sense of urgency we both obviously felt.  I
let my tongue be sucked into her sweet mouth, gasping as her teeth gently
held it firmly, her tongue tickling the tip.  Our hands held each other's
faces, not willing to release the other.

Finally, I pulled away from Baracha's kiss and stood, urging her to stand
with me.  Staring up into her eyes, I saw the reflection of my own need and
stepped back, drawing her with me and let her down the long hall to the
master suite.  No words were spoken as the door closed and locked behind
us.  I led her to the bed and sat down, drawing her down beside me.  I
reached my hand to her cheek, my fingers tracing the scar through her hair,
then down her cheek to her chin and up to let my fingers touch her pouting,
wet lips.  Her kiss to my fingertips tingled, chills wandering down my
spine.

I reached for the bottom of Baracha's sweater and urged it free of her
slacks, letting my fingers touch the tender, delicate flesh of her bare
sides and her tummy.  Her dark skin glistened in the reflection from the
windows as I enjoyed the feel of her softness after so many, many years.  I
leaned over to touch her tummy with my lips, gently kissing and licking the
flesh, watching the convulsing of her body to my touch.  Slowly, lazily, I
lifted her sweater over her head, freeing her arms and, as I usually do,
kept her face covered as I began to kiss and lick her chest above her bra,
her collarbones, her soft, muscled shoulders and arms.  My lips continued
onto her armpits, back up to her neck, kissing and licking everything I
could reach.  In her darkness, Baracha was moaning almost continually,
savoring the secretive kissing that her blindfold kept away from her eyes.
My lips moved up to kiss her lips through the material, sucking it into my
mouth, relishing her taste on the material.  Finally, I released her by
pulling the sweater over her head and onto the floor.

My lips began to lick her breasts through her bra, watching her hard
nipples tent the silken material.  My teeth grasped her nipples through the
material, twisting them, pulling on them even as my fingers found the front
clasp of the bra.  As the bra fell away, I gasped at the sight of those
small, firm breasts, the long, narrow nipples distended in her passion.

"Oh, Bar, they're so beautiful, so perfect," I whispered, my fingers gently
touching the softness of her breasts, drawing little circles all around
their size.  Baracha cried aloud as my fingers gently circled her nipples,
touching the dark skin and the darker caps that surrounded her almost black
nipples.  Unable to resist, my mouth opened as my lips surrounded her right
nipple and sucked it into my mouth.  Crying aloud, Baracha's hand came down
to the back of my head, drawing me closer as I sucked as much of her small
breast into my mouth as I could.  My fingers reached for her other breast,
pinching the length of her nipple, pulling on it, drawing it out as far as
I could without hurting her.

I could feel Baracha's hands on my shoulders and arms through the purple
silk blouse I'd worn on the plane.  It felt so good to have her hands on me
and I couldn't wait to feel them on my skin.  Gently, she eased my mouth
from her breasts and began to unbutton my blouse.
  As each button opened, she leaned down to kiss the newly exposed flesh,
kissing all around my bra.  When the last button had been released, she
pulled the silken material free of my black slacks and eased it over my
shoulders and arms and threw it aside.  Her fingers deftly found the clasp
behind me and released it, my arms holding the bra in place.  I wanted her
to take it from me and I watched as her hands grasped the flimsy material
and pulled it away, depositing it on the floor.



I watched Baracha's eyes open wide as my breasts tumbled free, large, full
and round, my nipples fire engine red and rock hard with passion.
Tentatively, her hands reached out to touch the skin of my breasts,
touching the areas beneath each globe.  My eyes closed as her hands
continued up my flesh to wrap fingers around each one.  I gasped as her
fingers closed on my breasts, squeezing, lifting, weighing each, rolling
them around on my chest.
  I felt her thumbs and forefingers pinch my nipples, twisting and pulling
on them.  I opened my eyes to watch her fingers, then her eyes as her mouth
started to reach for me.

"Oh, Bar," I groaned, my hands holding her head as her mouth opened wide,
sucking in as much of my breast flesh as she could.  "My God, yes, Darling,
yes," I murmured as I held her sucking mouth against me.  I jumped as her
teeth wrapped tightly around my nipple, chewing it like a stick of candy,
her tongue swirling around and around it.  Both her hands were squeezing my
breasts as she sucked, pushing them together so that her lips and tongue
could attack both of my nipples.  I was already experiencing mini-orgasms
as violent shakes passed over my body.

I disengaged Baracha from my breast and urged her to lay down on the bed,
her legs extending over the edge.  I leaned over her, kissing light,
butterfly kisses on her eyes, her nose, her cheekbones, her ears, her neck,
her rounded breasts.  I tasted her flesh and stopped.

In my lust, I'd missed them: scars beneath her breast, on both sides, just
above her hips.  The scars on her hips were from knives, the one directly
beneath her breast: a bullet hole.  I stared at them, then into Baracha's
eyes.  Her pain, her suffering was so deep, I could no longer hold back.  I
began to cry again, watching as my tears struck the firm flesh of her
stomach.  I lay my cheek down onto her stomach, letting my tears flow,
shaking in my rage and my helplessness.  I felt her hands stroking my face,
my hair, her voice whispering, soothing.

Finally, I began to lick up my own tears from her body, kissing the soft,
rigidly firm tummy as my fingers fumbled with the catch at the side of her
slacks.  Slowly, my cheek still firmly against her skin, I eased the zipper
down.  I pulled down on the loosened material, exposing the band of her
white silk panties beneath and began to lick further down her soft, smooth
body.  I slid my tongue beneath the band, feeling just the beginning of her
pussy fur, the kinky circular hairs that encased her sweet pussy.  I rose
and urged her to raise her ass to permit me so slide her slacks down her
long, lean thighs and calves and off.

My God, Baracha was still a beauty, her white panties so brilliantly offset
from her dark body.  Her juices had puddle at the V of her pussy and the
stain was very visible.  I rose and stood beside the bed as she sat up and
opened the catch of my slacks, unzipped them and let them slide down my
legs, puddling around my ankles.  I watched her eyes, now reduced to slits
as she devoured my body.  She watched the growing stain between my legs as
my juices flooded my red bush, the smooth firm skin of my thighs and my
calves.  I let my knees go and knelt between her legs, my hands resting on
her silky smooth thighs.  I leaned forward, pressing my face against her
panty- clad pussy, sniffing her heated juices, feeling the wetness against
my cheek.  I slowly slid my hands up her thighs and up her hips to grasp
the waistband of her panties.  Slowly, very slowly, I began to slid them
down, urging her to raise her ass to permit them passage.

Groaning continually, Baracha cried out as the panties pulled free of her
wetness, her kinky haired pussy slowly emerging.  My breath caught in my
throat as I watched her cunt be presented to me.  After sliding the panties
down her thighs and calves, I brought the soaked material up and pressed it
hard against my face, letting the juices cover my nose and lips, licking
the tart sweetness with my tongue.  I reached across and dabbed some of her
own wetness against Baracha's lips.

I rose and began to slide my panties down only to be stopped my Baracha.
Slowly, her hands slid behind me, her fingers slipping inside my panties
onto my ass, pulling the panties down over my hips, my soaked red bush
slowly appearing.  I watched her eyes as she devoured me, staring at my
pussy as she let my panties slide down my legs.  Naked, I again knelt
before her, my hands returning to her soft, smooth thighs, running up and
down the tops and sides of her thighs.  My face entered the cleft of her
thighs, licking the ultra softness of her inner thighs, tasting the juices
that had dripped down well past the center of her sex.  Squealing as if in
agony, Baracha slowly spread her thighs, opening her pussy to my view.  I
watched the glistening portal open, her thick lips shining with her love
moisture.  The smell was overpowering as I moved closer and closer, lifting
her thighs from the bed and over each of my shoulders.  Baracha moved her
body closer to the edge of the bed, her movement exposing not only her
entire, delicious pussy, but her tiny, smooth and open ass, her tiny
rosebud winking in delight for me.

"Dev, Dev, oh, my God, my beloved.  Yes.  Kiss me.  Please, please kiss
me," Baracha urged as my mouth slowly approached the center of her passion.
My tongue touched the wonderful area beneath her thighs where her ass
cheeks began, pushing into that depression of her body, bringing squeals of
hysteria from her mouth.  I began to lick the tender area between her thigh
and her pussy hair, rubbing the flat of my tongue all over.  First one
side, then the other.  She arched her hips toward me, begging me to take
her.

My hands slid beneath Baracha, cupping her soft, firm and smooth ass, my
hands squeezing her cheeks tightly, rolling them around and pulling them
apart, furthering exposing her rosebud to my prying eyes.  Completely
hairless, it wasn't pink or brown, just a blend slightly darker than her
skin color, wet with her leaking juices, beckoning my tongue.  But, later.
For now, my hands returned to the softness of her thighs, my mouth blowing
gently on her soaked pussy.

Finally, the tip of my tongue touched the bottom of Baracha's pussy slit,
mere inches from her darling rosebud.  A loud scream left her mouth at my
touch, followed quickly by a lurch from her pelvis and a renewed flow of
juice.  I let my tongue trace a path through her pussy hair to the top of
her slit where my fingers now spread her lips wide.  Standing at attention,
her clittie sparkled a bright and glistening red, firm as a little cock.  I
placed my teeth around that nubbin, biting down, flicking the tip with my
tongue.  A loud scream hit my ears, despite being scissored by her thighs
as Baracha thrust her pussy hard against my face.

"Dev, I'm coming!! Coming !! Oh, my God, I'm cominggggggggg!" she shrieked,
her orgasm rocking the bed with its intensity, her hands holding me tight
against her.  I slid my mouth lower, thrusting my tongue deep into her
dripping pussy hole, her come spurting out of her, deep into my mouth.  I
drank it, swallowed it, devoured it as my fingers joined my tongue deep
inside her body.  She kept rocking and screaming her passion until, bereft
of fluids, she collapsed.  I continued sucking and licking Baracha until
she could no longer move.

"Oh, my God, my God, Dev, what have you done to me?" Baracha reached down
and drew me up alongside her on the bed, pulling my head onto her chest,
holding me tightly, her hands stroking every inch of my body, pulling my
leg up across her waist.  Cuddling me against her, I felt so comfortable.
As Baracha's hands stroked my body, my fingers touched the bullet scar
beneath her breast.

"Tell me about it," I asked, leaning down to kiss the scar.

"Border skirmish, you know.  Nothing special.  An infiltration gone bad,"
she said, turning her head away.  I dropped it quickly, obviously a touchy
point.

I reached for Baracha's breast and began to suck her again, mouthing her
nipple.  I felt her hand stroking the length of my leg, my calf, my knee,
my thigh, my hip.  Her fingers slid between my thighs, lightly touching my
pussy, sending shivers throughout my body.  I arched my hips toward her,
forcing my pussy against her fingers, feeling them slide inside me.  Her
other hand slid over my hips to my ass, stroking my cheeks, touching at the
top of my crack.

Baracha sat upright on the bed, pulling me up to sit beside her.  Our minds
working as one, we turned and sat facing each other, our legs spread wide
and interlaced.  Gently, we brought our pussies together and wrapped our
arms around each other.  Our breasts meshed, our hands caressing each
other, touching, kissing, holding each other.  Slowly, we began to fuck.

Rocking my pelvis forward, I felt the soft wetness of Baracha's pussy touch
mine, felt the great heat generated by her passion against my own, feeling
our wetness mix.  As our scissoring action became more intense, I could
feel a mounting orgasm beginning to form, sending an intense shivering
throughout my body as I fought hard to maintain control of my actions.
Soon enough, I lost that control as my body's instincts took over,
rythymically moving again and again, grinding against her pussy, our hairs
roughing each other's genitals.

Suddenly, it was there.  An enormous, monumental explosion of an orgasm so
intense and hot that each and every muscle and nerve of my body began to
convulse, spasms driving my pussy so hard into her, loud screams lost deep
within Baracha's mouth, our arms squeezing as if for life itself, hands
rushing everywhere, holding on for dear life.

Moments later, as we lay in each other's arms, holding on, cuddling,
stroking each other's bodies, I knew. I knew that Baracha was right.  Had
this happened eighteen years before, I would never have been able to leave
Israel.  Or Baracha.  As naïve as I was, as idealistic as I was, I would
never have left.

But, that was then.  This is now.  This is the real world of life, career,
husband, children.  My life is committed to Ryan and the kids.  And, I
don't resent or regret it for even an instant.  I was just about to say
that to Bar, when I gazed into her eyes.  The glint there told me that our
little session was not finished.  Not by a long shot.  I felt her hands
moving on my tummy, her mouth reaching for my left breast, lips locking
hard around my swollen nipple.  I shuddered at the touch of her mouth,
vainly trying to suck the entire tittie into her.  She kept nursing at my
breast as a child, chewing on my nipple at the same time.

Baracha's hand trailed down to my red bush, pulling on the hairs, pinching
my engorged pussy lips, her finger sliding deftly into my soaked hole.  My
eyes clenched, my body shuddering, her finger was joined by another, then
another, until she was stroking three fingers deep into my cunt.  God, my
mini orgasms were exploding behind my eyes, brightening my vision as if my
eyes were open.

Baracha sat up and gently urged me to turn over onto my tummy.  Oh,
Goddddd, I hope...

I turned onto my tummy as Baracha began to kiss the back of my neck, gently
biting the flesh, licking the short hairs, renewing my shivering.  My body
was a mass of exposed nerve endings, totally sensitive to even the
slightest brush of air on my skin, let alone the talented tongue of this
magnificent woman.  I convulsed, moaning loudly, as her lips and tongue
began to bathe my shoulders and neck.

Baracha climbed atop me, her breasts touching my back, her wiry pussy hair
roughing against my tender ass.  I was moaning continually now as she
ground her body against mine, her hardened nipples scrapping against the
soft flesh of my back.  My body was lurching in mini-orgasms, one after
another, after another, each slightly more powerful than the one before.
Slowly, Baracha began to move down my body, her hands and kisses sliding
further and further down my back.

At the moment Baracha's lips touched the swell of my ass cheeks, my teeth
locked onto the bed sheet, biting down, screaming into the bedclothes.  My
fingers grabbed handfuls of the material, holding on for dear life as I
felt her lips travel further down, kissing and licking my ass cheek,
soaking it with her saliva.  My god, my mind had completely shut down,
aware only of the touch of her mouth on my ass.  When, at last, her mouth
moved to my other cheek, I was crying out continually, arching my pelvis
upward toward her mouth.  As I felt her tongue moving closer and closer to
the crevice between my cheeks, I began rocking, thrusting back, begging her
to hurry, screaming her name.  Her fingers began to pry my ass cheeks
apart, slowly, gently, exposing my most private part to her lusting eyes.
She began to gently blow against my exposed rosebud, sending chills to
every part of my body.  I felt the tip off her tongue licking the soft
inner parts of my ass cheeks, licking down, down, down to lick all around
the perimeter of my asshole.  I felt her lips softly touch the skin
surrounding my spasming asshole.  Suddenly, her mouth began to suck the
flesh of my sphincter into her mouth.

"Aggggggggghh, Oh, my Goddddd, Bar!" I screamed into the bedclothes as the
tip of her tongue touched my asshole and thrust hard deep into my rectum.
My body automatically thrust back, devouring her hard, thrusting tongue,
fucking my ass harder and harder.  Over and over, I thrust back to Baracha,
her hands holding tightly to my hips, pulling me against her searing mouth.
My mind left me, disappearing in a flash of brilliant lights as the
intensity of my orgasm overwhelming my senses, my tears flowing down my
cheeks.  Suddenly, I screamed aloud, losing the baffle of sheets from my
mouth, freezing in time and space.  Then, I collapsed to the bed, unable to
move, my body convulsing spasmodically, Baracha's face still buried deep
between the cheeks of my ass.

Finally, Baracha began to move, crawling up to lie beside me, reaching out
to draw me close to her, my face buried against her breasts. I nuzzled
those soft, beautiful mounds of flesh, occasionally nibbling on her
nipples.  Lost in afterglow, I felt Bararcha's hands gently stroke my hair,
my cheek, my back and shoulders.  After a while, her hands stopped and I
realized that the soft, even breathing indicated that she had fallen
asleep.  I gently lowered her head to the pillow and crawled from the bed.

In the living room, I picked up my cellphone and buzzed Ryan at the pool.
"Hi.  How'd things work out up there, as if I didn't know?" he smiled into
the phone.  God bless him, I thought.

"Long story, Sweets," I sighed, my hand rubbing my forehead.  "Suffice to
say, lover," I began, glancing over my shoulder to be sure she was out of
earshot, "She's been in love with me for all these years."

"Oh, shit," Ryan muttered, between his gritted teeth.  "Does this bode
ill?"  he asked.

"No, darling.  Nothing like that.  She's tough.  She'll handle it.  We'll
be down in a little bit to join you.  She did mean it, though.  She's going
to stick with us through Jerusalem and the Dead sea."

Laying down the telephone, I wandered into the main room, thinking of all
those days together and all of those intervening years.  I had learned a
harsh secret while laying in her soft, secure arms.  Baracha, a beautiful
woman, kept in perfect shape at 53 ( I found out her exact age only hours
before), brilliant with multiple university degrees gained on two
continents, was a virgin.  Not physically.  That's confusing, I know, but
it's emotionally true.  Baracha had never made love with a man.  Making
love, for this devastating beauty, was exclusively with women.  Her
experiences with men were limited to sexual encounters deemed necessary to
support past missions and they had been painful, both physically and
emotionally for her.

Lying in bed, she had told me of several of those encounters.  We cried
together as I held her, soothing her, playing mommy to this beautiful woman
who had saved my life.  It was a painful catharsis and my heart broke for
her.  I told Ryan about it later while we were at the pool and the sparks
began to leap from his eyes again.  And, tears.

Much later, after dinner and a stroll through the village, stopping into a
few of the shops that catered to the tourist trade, we wound our way back
to the villa where I shuffled the kidlets off to bed and poured a Hennessy
with lime and ice for each of us.



"To friendship.  To love.  To friends long ago lost and now found," I
toasted, smiling at Baracha, quietly noting her nervousness as she shifted
her legs, moving her drink from hand to hand, sneaking the occasional
glance at Ryan.  And, not completely because he's a hunk, either.

Ryan was outside, leaning over the veranda, staring at the magnificent
star-filled sky.  Dressed in cream-colored slacks with a silver antique
buckle, his black Polo shirt displayed his thick arms and highlighted his
broad, hairy chest.  His dark beard was touched with just a little more
gray and included matching vertical side-by-side, almost white streaks on
his chin.  The same could be said for his thick head of hair.  His black
wire-rimmed glasses framed his baby blues and, if you looked very close
now, swimming golden flecks.  Altogether, smashing if you'll forgive my
obvious prejudice.

Earlier at the pool, after telling Ryan about Baracha, I watched him walk
towards her, still mesmerized by his body in his boxer type bathing suit,
his broad shoulders and graying hairy chest glistening with sweat under the
hot sun.  He reached out a hand to Baracha, a daring, shimmering golden
bikini barely hiding her luscious body.  Seemingly overwhelmed, she
glancing at me in query, accepted it and rose and they walked off together
toward the outdoor bar.

I lay back, enjoying the sun on my skin, my black one-piece suit molded to
my body, the cut of the suit exposing my hips and buttocks for all the
world to see, watching the girls splash and enjoy, my oldest flirting
outrageously with a gorgeous young hunk.  Knowing my little one as I do,
I'm sure the red tint to his face came more from how she was posturing and
what she was saying than from the sun.  Like Mother, like Daughter, I
snickered to myself.

About a half hour later, Ryan and Baracha returned, hand in hand.  He
deposited her into a lounge next to me, leaned over and planted those
succulent lips on mine, excused himself to head for the gym for a quick
workout.  I watched him walk away, eating up his great body with my eyes.
Damn, he is so fine!

"You're a very, very fortunate woman, sweetheart," Baracha inched nearer,
her hand caressing the hot flesh of my forearm.  I turned to her, watching
her eyes glisten in the intense sunlight.  "God, don't I know it."

"Not what you think I mean, sweetheart," Baracha began, a tiny smile
curling her lip.  "I mean he's very empathetic.  He talked to me about so
many things that I kind of lost myself in the sound of his voice," she
said, her mind drifting, her words soft.  "He seems to know me, but of
course, that's impossible," she said, shaking her head.

"No, it's not so impossible, Baracha." I interrupted.  "Ryan has . . . I
don't know exactly what it is, but he always seems capable of saying or
doing the right thing at just the right time.  And, as you'll notice,
disappearing at just the right time, too.  Although, he might just be
enticed to join us if you're at all interested."

Baracha laughed, nervously, quickly changing the subject.  "Your little
ones are also so beautiful.  They're going to be as beautiful as their
Mother," she continued, nodding toward them.  "Incidentally, your little 14
year old is succeeding in seducing a 24 year old over there," she laughed,
indicating the young man across the pool area.

"He's just a boy, not that old," I laughed.  "But, yes, she seems to have
him enthralled."

"No, he's 24.  He's my nephew.  I recruited him to keep an eye when my back
is turned.  Some job he's doing," she laughed.

I glanced over and watched as my beautiful one caught my eye, smiled and
winked.  "I don't think he's succeeded in convincing her she's just another
American tourist to him, love," I laughed.  Baracha sipped her drink,
swirling the powerful cognac around in her mouth.  Then, she rose and
joined me at the bar, taking my hand in hers and kissing it, licking each
of my fingers and all my rings, her eyes never leaving mine.  Her hand
reached up to hold my cheek and her glittering lips touched mine, as gently
as a butterfly's kiss.  With a wink, she walked out onto the veranda.

Ryan was lost in thought, gazing out onto the skyline.  He was really
enjoying the wonders of Israel and the rest of our vacation as well.  For
the first time in a long time, we had been together virtually every waking
moment, making love in many, many ways, in many private and not-so- private
places, including mutually fondling a totally naked dancer at a club in
London.  In all ways, this vacation made up for four years of
vacation-fast.

So lost in thought, Ryan didn't notice Baracha's approach until he felt her
arm wrap around his waist as she leaned over the railing next to him, her
head against his shoulder.  I watched him glance over his shoulder at me as
he slid a matching arm around her shoulder, pulling her gently into his
arms.  Standing just inside the veranda sliders, I could hear the sharp
inhalation of air as she nervously settled into his arms.  Ryan lifted
Bar's chin with his fingers, staring into her beautiful eyes.  The tiny
lines that framed her lips and eyes were taut with tension, panic lurking
just beneath the surface.  Gently, Ryan's lips touched hers, a shudder
visibly shaking her body.  Pulling back, Ryan continued to stare at her
clenched eyes, waiting until she opened them, startled that he had pulled
away.

"I . . . I . . ." Baracha began, her fear so palpable that Ryan hushed her
gently, his fingertips touching her lips.  "It's alright.  Let's go inside.
Nothing's going to happen to you, Baracha.  I owe you a debt of gratitude
that can never be repaid for giving me my wife and her life.  How could I
ever hurt you?"

Tears began to pool in her dark, glistening eyes and ran in rivulets down
her cheeks.  Ryan at first reached out with a finger to touch them, then
leaned closer to touch the tip of his tongue to them instead, licking them
from her soft skin.  Baracha's arms tightened around Ryan's waist, pulling
him closer, her head against his chest.

I walked out onto the veranda and approached them.  I touched the back of
Bar's neck with my lips, drawing a quick inhalation of breath, more
shuddering as she burrowed deeper into Ryan's chest.  I felt Ryan's arms
wrap around the both of us, kisses to my lips, my forehead, Bar's forehead,
his hands gently stroking the soft skin of Baracha's exposed back, bring
more shivers of . . . excitement?  More fear?

Stay tuned for Randi XIV (not that I'm superstitious, of course . . .).
Please, please, and another please keep your emails coming to my toni526
hotmail email address.