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By Ann Regentin
What Never Dies

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Tedia, Goddess of Boredom
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Like a Brother
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Girls for Leash
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An Early Winter Train
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You Belong to Me

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Nikki Didn't Like It
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By G. E. Russell
First Love, Last Romance
Judgement Day
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This Desolate Eden
You Like It Like That...

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Going Viral
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Neighbor of the Beast
Over the Rainbow
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Virtual Love
When The Angels Fall

By Helena Settimana
Highway 69
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A Small Favor
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He Sends His Regrets
The Mentor

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Advice From Miss Millicent
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The Baby Doll
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Use Me
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By Jill
A House On Fire?
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Sheila Discusses ...

By john e
Ava's Honey
I Wish My Dick...
johnny's jackoff journal
Saturday Morning

By Julius
In Praise of Pussy
The Newcomer
Tight, Tighter, Tightest
You Rang Madam?

By Juniper Maclay
Lunch Break
Public Transportation
The Scientist

By Keziah Hill
Dutch Masters
Laying Down the Law
Strawberry Flavoured Joy
The Second Coming

By L.A. Smith
Both Hands
Missionary Position

By Lara Nickles

By Lilie Berlin
Color Less Ordinary
Naughty Little Girl

By Mairead Devereux
new War Wounds
The Valley

By Mike Kimera
Ask Alice
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Fucking Ugly
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Soft Option
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Till Death Do Us Part
The Last Taboo
The Sisters

By Nan Andrews
At Rest
Spirit Guides

By Nick Nicholson
Grigore & Tatiana
Land of Smiles
The Room
The Uniform

By Nikki Isaak
A Rathskeller Jar
The Dread That Stained Kalos

By Oxartes
Androids Behaving Badly
Babylon Nights
Eat Your Veggies
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I Am Not A Scorpion
Innocent Flower
Maybe You Can Go...
The Vow Part I
The Vow Part II - Fiend in Need
What Would Aristippus Think

By Raziel Moore
Invisible Lines (Novella)

Strawberry Flavoured Joy
by Keziah Hill © 2006

Gina Davies sighed inwardly and thinned her lips. This was the last time she'd rescue a stray waif as a favour to her English friends. She liked being hospitable, she liked meeting new people, but she did not like housing morose depressives with nothing to say. Even if he did at first bowl her over with lust. That had long since disappeared in the face of his relentless gloom.

She'd tried everything to bring him out of what ever was torturing him. She cooked, supplied good wine, took him with her to meet her friends, tried to connect him to new experiences and new sight and sounds. In a state of considerable sacrifice, she even dragged out her walking boots and took him into the bush. While she might live on the edge of a National Park, that didn't mean she liked walking in it. She much preferred gazing at craggy cliffs and mist in the valley from the safe environs of a glass fronted café, with a strong espresso in front of her.  But she hoped fresh air, waterfalls and panoramic vistas would give him some vim and verve. Nothing worked. He remained a tall, dark, brooding presence in her spare room.

Not that she had anything against tall, dark and brooding. Gina was a red blooded woman who wasn't averse to romantic stereotypes, particularly when the stereotype in question was at the end of a brief four week holiday and would leave, back to chilly  London. He'd spent the first three weeks travelling around, going to the Northern Territory and the Kimberlys and now was ensconced in her house, allegedly because they not only had mutual friends, but because he wanted to spend some time in the Blue Mountains bush walking and abseiling. So far he'd shown no interest in either.

She'd tried questioning him about where else he'd been, thinking he'd show some enthusiasm for Kakadu or Uluru. At one point she thought she saw some actual passion in his eyes, which made her momentarily hopeful, but he still only managed one syllable responses to her questions. She wondered if he'd really been to all those places. Maybe he'd holed up in some hotel somewhere, spending the last three weeks watching television and wanking. Although even that seemed to require energy she didn't think he had.

When she first saw him, standing on the railway platform at Katoomba, she'd said a prayer of thanks to the Stray Waif Goddess and blessed her friends for sending her a perfect holiday fuck. Just the kind of man she liked. Neat. Tidy clothes and if she wasn't mistaken, ironed jeans. She'd licked her lips with anticipation, impatient to peel him out of them and tousle that dark, combed hair.

Gina helped him load his backpack into her car, all the time chatting about their friends and what he might like to do. At first she discounted his lack of response, thinking he must be tired after the two hour train trip from Sydney, but after he'd had a brief nap and a reviving glass or two of wine, she realised he had nothing to say.

After two days of torture, Gina shut herself into her bedroom, stretched herself across her bed with the phone and a stiff whiskey and called her friend Liz in London.

"What've you sent me?"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"He's not the most scintillating of companions. Has he always been like this?"

"Are we talking about the same person? Adam Taylor? Tall, dark and gorgeous?"

"Yes, yes, he's very good looking, but he has nothing to say. The phrase blood from a stone could've been coined just for him. Is he depressed or something? Had some major life catastrophe?"

"He split up from his girl friend recently, but he wasn't too upset. It was one of those relationships that just fizzled out."

"Doesn't surprise me. I can't imagine how it got going in the first place."

"Gina, this sounds bizarre. Adam isn't like that. He's a rather nice, intelligent, happy sort of person. Maybe a little over controlled, but nothing neurotic. Are you sure your usual effervescence hasn't overwhelmed him? You can be full on when you want to be."

"He was like that when he got off the train. Maybe he's having some early mid life crisis. I just wish he didn't have to have it in my spare room."

They chatted some more, Liz, as usual, bemoaning the lack of decent men and Gina thinking she'd love to be in London. It was her home away from home. The cold and the conversation suited her down to the ground. Not that she wanted to live there, but she had the best sex of her life with a buttoned down city type who was an animal in bed. The experience had made her permanently hot for repressed Englishmen.

Gina hung up the phone and let her mind drift to the memory of James. A sip of whiskey bought to mind his fabulous mouth. Smooth but with a welcome kick. He'd lie her back and open her legs then run his tongue around her clit, down into her pussy and up again until she'd beg him to fuck her. She'd never begged for anything until she met James. Just when she thought she could take no more, he'd thrust two fingers into her and suck strongly on her clit. She came so hard he told her later his fingers went numb.

When she'd returned home, she decided every two years she'd have an extended holiday in London. If she scrimped and saved she could just manage it. Which made Adam's depression even more disappointing. A gorgeous Englishman in her house who was unfuckable. It wasn't fair.

She put the glass on her bedside table and rolled onto her stomach with her hand jammed between her legs. This was the perfect position for a lazy afternoon of pleasure. She loved rubbing her clit against the side of her hand, remembering the feel of James behind her, sliding his cock in and out of her, his hands on her buttocks, kneading with occasional stinging slap.

She was almost there, ready to press her mouth into her pillow, not wanting Adam to hear her, when she saw him out the window at the end of her garden. He was standing with his back to her, without his shirt. What a sight. He might be permanently depressed, but he didn't let his body suffer. Weeks of sun made his skin golden and lush and his blue black hair gleamed in the sunlight.

Gina rubbed her clit faster and harder, wanting her hands on his body and her tongue on his skin, when she saw him throw back his head. He looked like he was in pain. He jerked and turned slightly and she saw with delighted shock, his cock out and up, with the last spurt of cum jetting onto the garden. She forgot to muffle her moan as she came, then ducked away from the window as he turned to the sound.

Her cunt throbbed with aftershocks and she laughed into her pillow.  Maybe he had spent his whole holiday wanking. What a bizarre situation! She lay on her bed and dreamily slid a couple of fingers into herself. Perhaps after all there was a way to get her holiday fuck.

*              *              *

Adam whipped his head around at the sound of a muffled groan. Gina had long since disappeared into her bedroom with the phone so he thought he was safe. He quickly shoved his cock back into his jeans and strode back to the house. Not that he wanted to be inside. He never wanted to be inside again.

He knew he was behaving badly but he couldn't do anything else. Depression enveloped him as soon as he got off the train at Katoomba and saw Gina, looking like a wild, hippy amazon, standing against the background of endless sky with a huge grin on her face. She was warm, friendly, hospitable and completely irresistible.  She summed up his whole experience of the country, a place full of warmth and light and space. The thought of getting back on a plane to dark, dank London in seven days filled him with despair.

Which deepened after she picked him up and took him to her house. Her back garden went on forever into the National Park. Coloured birds flew through the green grey trees, the smell of eucalyptus surrounded him and when he heard the first cry of a black cockatoo he wanted to weep with joy. He'd found his home and he couldn't live here.

Being with Gina made his skin hurt with need. All he could think about was wanting her hands on him and his cock inside her, while he lost himself in her brilliant blue eyes, eyes the same colour as the sky. He wanted to twist her red earth hair around his fists and pound into her as she wrapped her long, strong legs around him and pushed back, pressing her fingers into his buttocks, urging him on.

She had a lush, lusty laugh and lived life like it was a rich chocolate cake made just for her. He knew as soon as he met her she wanted to fuck him, but he just couldn't let himself go, knowing he may never get himself back together. It was this country. It made him want what he couldn't have.

So he held back, not engaging with her so it wouldn't hurt so much when he left. But it was getting harder and harder, along with his cock. When he wandered the garden with his shirt off and the sun a blessed caress on his skin, all he could think about was her. She was mixed up in his head with the sky and the bush. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to pull out his cock and make love to the air. The sight of his cum on the leaf litter was deeply satisfying.

He had to get a grip on himself and stop this terrible mooning. He was a civilised man with impeccable manners. She must think him an oaf.

When he got back to the house, she was in the shower. He was relieved. Three more days and he's be back on the plane. He just had to stop thinking about fucking her. Not just fuck her, lose himself in her, feel the life affirming heat of her glorious body

. . . stop. Don't go down that pathway. Just be pleasant, but distant.

He went to his room, pulled out a shirt and buttoned it up, trying to replace the image of her body with thoughts about financial systems and computer programs. He sighed, looked up, then blinked. The image he'd thrust out his mind was standing in the corridor, nonchalantly drying her hair. She had a skimpy towel around her that looked like it could fall off any second.

"I thought we could have a picnic down by the waterfall later. The sun doesn't go down until late. What do you think?"

He'd go anywhere with her, anytime. Dragging his eyes away from her breasts, he remembered his resolve to be friendly but sexually detached. He wouldn't survive otherwise.

"That sounds a lot of fun, Gina. It's a beautiful evening for a picnic."

She stepped back, raised her eyebrows, then smiled a slow, wicked smile that made his cock twitch.

"Great. There's a wonderful deli in the main street. I'll get dressed, grab a rug and we can go."

*              *              *

Verity Campbell was at the end of her tether. Today was her eighteenth birthday and her parents, bless them, had decided that a brisk bush walk and a picnic at Mini-Ha-Ha falls would be the perfect way to celebrate. She could hear them packing up the picnic hamper, no doubt full of wholesome tofu, pumpkin and sunflower seed salad, home made gluten free bread and a big thermos of green tea. Yum, yum.

The taste of anchovy and peperoni pizza was still in her mouth from last night's celebration with her friends. She'd ingested a lot more than pizza but thankfully Fin's semen didn't leave an aftertaste. And all the cheap champagne she'd drunk just made her head pound.

"Are you ready yet, darling?" her mother called.

"Yeah, coming."

She grabbed a T-shirt that didn't smell of cigarettes and wine, pulled on some loose drawstring pants and rooted around her discarded clothes for her walking shoes. Her mother appeared at her door way.

"Had a good night?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"What did you do?"

Here we go. It was bad enough having born again Christians as parents but when they were also ex-hippies obsessed with health living, life could get pretty bloody dreary.  Over the past year Verity had started to dig her heels in and resist some of their rules. Unbeknownst to her parents, she'd been doing so since the age of fourteen when she'd lost her virginity against a wall behind the aquatic centre without a condom and without knowing the name of the guy fucking her. But over the past year she'd stopped hiding her moments of rebellion, wanting to find out how far she could go. She'd demanded to socialise with her friends just like other normal seventeen year olds, which meant unsupervised time at their houses without adults present.

Surprisingly her parents hadn't put up much of a fight. Verity suspected they knew if they did, she'd be off like a shot. She wasn't some indulged teenager who expected life on a platter. She worked hard after school and during the holidays as a check out chick at K Mart. Earning money was her obsession.

"Nothing much. Just watched tele at Fin's place and had some pizzas."

Her mother frowned. "I suppose you ate lots of meat."

Verity rolled her eyes. "That's right Mum. I gorged myself because there's no way I'd get any here, is there?"

"Certainly not. Just remember to take some extra pysillum. After all that dead food you're bound to get constipated."

Verity closed her eyes and started counting. Eighteen years old and her mother was lecturing her about her bowels. In moments like these she thought about her Running Away From Home Fund. It was almost enough. Another six months and she'd have enough for the plane fare to London where she'd get a job and smoke, drink and fuck with total strangers if she wanted to.  She just had to put up with Hippy Haven until then.

*              *              *

Gina stretched out on the rug the aftertaste of smoky babaganush in her mouth. This was more like it. Good food and a man full of simmering expectation across from her. Thank God he'd gotten over what ever was bothering him. Maybe a good session of self abuse was all he needed. She didn't care just as long as he continued to give off I-can-hardly-wait-to-get-my-hands-on-you vibes. Although he seemed to be still struggling with the idea. Every now and then he'd pull himself back as if he didn't want to offend her. But then she'd see a look of down and dirty lust and her pussy would clutch with excitement.

The rug was in the shade under a row of eucalypts not far from Mini-Ha-Ha Falls. She was counting on the fact that not many people came down here in the middle of the week. Even if someone did appear, they'd have to make a deliberate trip to see them.

An ant crawled up her ankle. She idly brushed it off and wondered if she should make the first move. Her cunt felt plump and moist, ready for attention. Just as she was about to reach out to Adam, he rolled onto his stomach and plucked a strawberry from the punnet. Excellent. Lots of possibilities with strawberries.

"These are great. They're so big." He bit into the red flesh and juice dribbled down his chin. She leant forward and licked it off.  He jumped and stared at her, a look of confused lust on his face.

His chin was smooth with just a hit of bristle. She felt a direct line of zing straight from her tongue to her sharp nipples and then deep in her pussy. She was about to lean forward and lick him again when he pulled back and sat up with a sigh, looking tortured and depressed again.

"No, no," she said. "What is it? I thought you'd got over whatever was bugging you."

He sighed again and looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry Gina. I know I've been behaving badly but I think it's better if we don't get involved."

"Involved? You're flying back to London in three days. How could we get involved?"

"That's just it. If we do anything now I'll get even more despondent because I'll want more. Not just of you, although that would be great, but of this place." He threw out an arm and stared into the bushes, a wild look on his face. "It's like a drug. The more I'm here the more I want to be here. If we fuck on this picnic rug, an experience I can tell you now, I want more than anything in the world, I'm afraid I'll never be able to go back to London."

Gina shrugged. "Would that be such a problem?"

His scandalised look made her laugh.

"Of course it's a problem. I can't just not go back."


He spluttered. "Because I can't."

She picked up a strawberry and examined it. "Don't see why not. You could get a job here. You're a computer and finance person aren't you? You could work anywhere."

"That's not the point. I can't just ring my employers and tell them I'm not coming back. It's irresponsible."

Far from being irritated at the way their conversation was headed, Gina was getting even more twitchy. Her cunt had that deep, achy feeling that could only be soothed by some solid, continual fucking. There was something about male responsibility that filled her instantly with lust. It was like the proverbial red rag to a bull, or in this case the signal she had to get him out of his clothes as soon as possible.

"Adam. Sweetheart," she said, as she crawled across the rug, knocking strawberries, lettuce and tomatoes out of the way. He reared back, but offered no real resistance when she grabbed him around the shoulders, pressed her body against his and toppled him back against the rug. He groaned with what sounded to Gina like a mix of lust and resignation. She straddled him, her cunt fitting snugly against the bulge in his jeans, then looked down him with a smile. "Live a little."

He put up a two second fight, but finally smiled widely. "You're not going to let me go, are you?"

She shook her head.

"In that case."

He lifted his hands to her waist then rolled her underneath him.

The punnet of strawberries tipped over and she could feel the leaves of the lettuce brushing her thigh as she laughed and wrapped her arms around him. The whole, hard length of his body pressed down on her. She opened her legs and shimmied around to get the hardening bulge of his erection tight against her clit. She'd decided against knickers hoping this picnic would end up just as it should, with her legs open and ready. The only barrier between them was the soft cotton of her skirt.

"Oh yes," she murmured. "Just there. That's right."

He grinned down at her, all brooding depression gone, then kissed her. His mouth tasted of strawberry and delayed gratification and his tongue slid against hers in exactly the same rhythm as the ridge of his jeans rubbing against her clit. She moved her hands down to his buttocks and pushed him harder against her, undulating her hips, making the friction just right.

He thrust against her harder and nuzzled her neck. "I haven't done this since I was sixteen. I'd forgotten how much fun it was."

"More for me than you I think," she gasped, as he sped up his thrusts. Her whole body was wrapped around him now, rubbing and straining for release. He propped himself on his elbows and pushed harder against her.

She cried out and thrust up, holding her body rigid as an explosion of heat and light ripped through her body. His mouth was on hers again, taking in her sound as he slid his hand between them, easing his fingers into her cunt. She held him close and hummed happily into his neck as his fingers stroked her, smearing wetness all around the folds of her slit.

"Let me look," he said and scooted down between her legs. He pushed her skirt up to her hips and pushed her legs further apart. "I love the look of a wet, happy pussy. It is happy isn't it?"

"Very," she said smiling at his glee.

He put his face close to her lips and gently pushed his tongue inside her.

"Mmm. You taste wonderful. Sort of salty and fruity at the same time."

His words vibrated against her whole wet slit and she propped herself up on her elbows so she could watch him worship her cunt. When he picked up a strawberry and pushed it inside her, she threw her head back and laughed. He pulled it out with a soft plopping sound and devoured it.

"Hey! I need some sustenance too."

He grinned evilly and pushed another inside her then pulled it out and held it to her mouth. He was right, she did taste sweet and salty.

She munched on the strawberry and watched him as he knelt before her and slowly undid the zip of his jeans. His cock sprang out, looking hard and delicious.

"Mmm. My, oh my. Dessert."

She climbed onto her knees and bent over to take him into her mouth. His cock was hot and pulsed with a strong throb as she ran her tongue around the head then sucked hard. He pushed his fingers through her hair, pulling her head closer and moaned deep in his throat. God how she loved the sound of a man on the edge!

*              *              *

Verity had had enough. She'd spent hours being the dutiful daughter, chomping through the bush and listening to her father exclaim about the glories of nature. She still had a slight hangover and she wanted a cigarette. When her parents settled back on their picnic rug for a late afternoon snooze, she told them she'd just go for a brief wander to see the waterfall. They'd nodded and smiled looking stuffed with tofu.

As much as her parents drove her mad, they were good at heart. She picked her way through the bush thinking she'd miss them when she left. It wasn't a bad life having parents who loved you even if they were nuts. She made her way to the waterfall, thinking she'd take the hard path so if they came looking for her, she'd have enough warning to put out her ciggy.

A low moan caught her attention. Damn! Someone else was here. She stood still and tried to make out where the sound was coming from. Off to the left. A flash of red through the leaves. She crept forward feeling a bubble of excitement in her belly. She recognised that sound. Fin had made the same noise last night.

She ducked down and carefully peered through the branches of the banksia in front of her. Boy, oh boy. A dark haired hunk with his cock down the throat of a red head who looked like she couldn't get enough. Verity knew that feeling. Knew the feel of cock sliding in and out of her mouth, the delicious fear of gagging, the nutty, yeasty taste of cum.

She watched as the man pulled himself free of the woman and muttered,  "I want to be inside you."

The woman smiled up at him then looked around for something. She leaned over and grabbed a bag, rooting around inside it.

"They're here somewhere" she muttered, sounding increasingly panicked.

"Ah, here!" she said, brandishing a packet of condoms.

He laughed while she ripped off the foil of one and slid it onto his cock.

"Thank god you're prepared," he said, as she turned her back to him, flipped off her dress and got down on all fours, tipping her arse toward him.  He moaned, grabbed her hips and thrust home.

"Ah, you feel wonderful," he said, settling in for a good, hard fuck. The woman moaned each time he thrust. Verity could see the slight swing of her breasts as she shoved herself back on to his cock.

This was more like the kind of eighteenth birthday she wanted. She carefully lowered herself to the ground trying not to make a sound. She watched as the man's thrusts became harder and faster and the woman's groans became more feverish. They looked wonderful. Not just because they were fucking, although that was fantastic, but because they were having fun. There was nothing hidden or furtive about them. That was what she wanted. No hiding or pretending she was something she wasn't.

She slid a hand down into her trousers and felt for her clit. Her cunt was wet and throbbing. She rubbed and watched, wondering what the dark haired man's cock would feel like inside her and how the sharp tips of the woman's nipples would feel against her tongue.

*              *              *

Gina tipped her arse higher and groaned.

"Yeah, that's it! God, your cock feels so good!" Adam's grunts and the press of his fingers into her hips made her want to push back hard, make his cock slam into her. He seemed to pick up on her need and thrust hard into her. Gina hoped their audience appreciated the show.

She'd notice some movement in the bush when she was rooting around for a condom. Not ever having fucked in front of a total stranger, she thought about telling Adam, but changed her mind.  She liked the idea of being on show. She wondered, when she wasn't in the complete zone of fucking, of feeling the in and out of Adam's cock and the shock of him hitting just the right spot in her cunt, whether the watcher was even now, bringing herself to orgasm. Gina was almost certain the watcher was a woman. She's seen the swish of a braid as the watcher had ducked out of sight.

Gina could feel Adam about to come. He sped up his thrusts and with a mighty groan, slammed one last time into her and let go. She peered into the bushes hoping the watcher liked what she saw.

*              *              *

Verity rubbed fast and harder. Small, mewling noises came from her throat as she watched the man throw back his head and with one final thrust, let himself go inside the red head. She clamped her lips together to stop her mewling noises turning into a guttural groan. Her pussy spasmed and she saw stars. When she gently let out her breath and came back into her body, she saw the couple slumped on the picnic rug. The man covered the woman's body, nuzzling her neck and looking as though he was about to drift into a post coital snooze. The woman was smiling. Then she lifted her head and looked directly at Verity.


Verity stood on wobbly legs and heard a distant call from her mother. She turned to go but hesitated. Stepping from behind the banksia, she watched as the woman twisted herself around under the man to cradle his now slumbering head between her breasts. They looked happy and contented curled up on the rug. Verity stood listening to the waterfall and feeling the purple twilight around her. The woman smiled at her again and curled herself closer to the man. Verity blew her a kiss and turned toward her mother's voice.

*              *              *

Six months later.

Adam stood at the arrivals gate, peering over head and checking his watch. Why was it taking so long? The plane touched down an hour ago.

There, there she is!

He strode through the crowds and scooped her up, sending bags flying. He kissed her wide, generous mouth. For three months he'd not had that mouth against his, not been able to taste sunshine and strawberries. She laughed has he spun her around and kissed her some more.

"Wait. Let me get my breath," she gasped. "You look good. I've never seen you in a suit."

Adam grinned as lust spiked through him, knowing all too well what she was thinking. As soon as he got her back to his flat, she'd have him mussed up and tousled, creasing his shirt, rubbing her wet pussy against his trousers and using his tie to tantalise his balls. He could hardly wait.

"Come on. Let's get going," he said.

"Hang on. Ah, there she is." Gina waved at a young woman with a long dark braid and a backpack, who was weaving her way through the crowd to the tube station. She waved back at Gina, let out a whoop of joy, then disappeared in the crowd.

"Someone you know?"

"Not exactly. We met on the plane, although I'd seen her around Katoomba."

"Yeah? Does she need a lift? Would she like to join us?"

Gina smiled and kissed him. He saw the blue sky in her eyes and smelt eucalypt and fig in her hair. His heart relaxed.

"No, I don't think so. She's not much of a joiner. She likes to watch."

© 2006 Keziah Hill. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Bio: Who is Keziah Hill? Read her bio on the Erotica Readers & Writers Association website.

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Extraordinary Graces
Head Games
Making Her Late For...
Mere Moments
Practicing Lovecraft
Pre Need
new Riley
Seeing Is Believing
Smells Like Money
Surviving Winter
The Angel of Loneliness
The Dog Park
The Exchange
The Great Sin
The Mission
They Need Me
What Now?
You Get What You Pay For
You're the Only One

By Robert GSK
Still Life

By Rose B. Thorny
Only When It Rains
Power and Glory
The Thing Under the...

By Sam Thorne
The Right Man
new The Way, the Truth, the Lifer

By Savannah
Naked Ambition
The Principal of the Thing

By Sidney Durham
I'm Only Shaving!
Junk Yard Goddess
Santa, Baby!
Sometimes I Can ...
Speaking of Escher
The Road Not Taken

By Tulsa Brown
Debt of Honor
Flesh On A Woman
Half Moon Girl

By Valentine Bonnaire
American Daddy-O
Bing Cherry Silk
Bukowski Girls
Colony, Collapsed
Have a Nice Day
l'heure bleue
Once Upon A Time . . .
Red Suede
Yellow, like the daffodils

By William Dean
A Hand in the Bush
Burning Man
Buy Me Something
Forest for the Trees
Great Notion
Kiss Me And Then...
Political Asylum
Port Said
Stranger in the Bonfire
Swap Meet
Switch Back
Twisted Faith

Screen Play
by A.F. Waddell

A Filing Fling
by Addison Long

Menage A Cart
by Adhara Law

Elevator Shaft
by Alana James

Torn in Two
by Alicia Night Orchid

by Angela Caperton

The Lady-killer
by BJ Franklin

The Vacation
by Beth Vox

Frostbite the Ice Pimp
by Chuck Lovepoe

The Accidental Fetish
by Corvidae

So Much in Common
by Daphne Dubonet

Unjust Rewards
by Delores Swallows

The Hand & I.
by EllaRegina

Safari Tuesday
by G. Gregory

The Puss Hater
by Inna Spice

One for the Road
by J. Corvo

Full Serviced
by J.D. Coltrane

Naked Over New York
by J.Z. Sharpe

The Chocolate Wife
by James Robert Sands

Once Shy
by Jamie Smithe

by Jean Roberta

Caitlin Comes Clean
by Jerry Rightson

Something To Make...
by Jim Parr

Melanie and Jay Go...
by jtallen

Peeping George
by Jude Mason

It's Lovely. It's Horrible.
by Kathleen Bradean

The Temp
by Kaye Heche

A Husband's Lesson
by Kim Bax

Better Than a Blow...
by Lauren Mills

Page 12 - No. F
by LilyOrchid

In The Name Of...
by Michael Michele

The Classics
by Nettie Kestler

The Wounded Healer
by Nicholas M.

by Nick Santa Rosa

The Cabin
by P. E. Brink

Post Mortem
by Riccardo Berra

Newly Reformed Woman...
by Seneca Mayfair

by Sybil Rush

by Teresa Lamai

Alter Christus
by Teresa Wymore

Shadows of De La Rosa
by Tori Diaz
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