Perfect Lover

by Friar Dave

It was the night of The Storm. It hit in March of '93, and the National Weather Service - with their zany, madcap sense of humor - dubbed it the "White Hurricane." I'd been on Aer Lingus out of Shannon, headed for JFK and counting the hours till I was back on terra firma. I was not thrilled to hear that all three New York airports were socked in, and we were diverting to Boston. The good part was that I could take trusty Amtrak back to town. A longer journey, to be sure - but frankly, I wished there was some way to get across the Atlantic by rail; I do not like flying.
By the time we got into Logan, I was in the Twilight Zone that results from a long transAtlantic flight filled with Savory Airline Food and the complimentary beverages (three Jack Daniels) served in business class, topped by a couple of cups of Delicious Airline Coffee. I took the T directly to Back Bay station and flashed that Little Green Homerun Hitter for a first class on the next train to Penn Station. With my carry-on in one hand and my attaché case in the other, I barely made it. The snow was starting to swirl gently as we pulled out of the station; by the time we passed through Providence, it was a pelting blizzard, and when we reached Croton, we were rocketing along at all of five miles an hour. The only way I knew it was Croton was from the announcement; the station signs were not visible - across the nine-foot-wide platform.

An excruciating start-and-stop hour later - and three hours behind the Amtrak schedule - I was muttering and groaning and making my way through the elysian environs of Pennsylvania Station. The PA kept informing us that there would be no more trains in or out of that terminal for the night. The cops were not clearing folks out of the waiting areas as they normally did; most of these people were simply stranded; not the usual homeless "riffraff" who didn't have the right to shelter.

The escalator to street level deposited me in the midst of a chaotic Seventh Avenue scene. Even the blizzard - excuse me: "White Hurricane" - had not swept Seventh and 32nd clear of the eternal crush of cabs jockeying for travel-weary customers... or the hustlers who were all too willing to help secure a cab for the uninitiated.
That was where I saw her. Everyone was wearing goose-down parkas, everyone was carrying bags - in her case, one uselessly wheeled bag, a backpack and a briefcase - and everyone was looking frazzled. But she stood out because of her hair. It was so blonde it was nearly white. And she wore it in two braids that reached halfway down her back.

As I watched, two homeboys danced up to her and, with unnaturally wide smiles, gestured to her bags and the cab-less street. I saw her head shake. One of them reached for her bag. She tried to pull it back. A tug of war began, and the other hustler began keeping lookout.

I straightened and stepped forward, eyes fixed on the lookout. He saw me coming, said something to his partner, and they split, vanishing into the mob. I reached her side and said, "Excuse me - are you alright?"

She turned her face toward me, and I was drowning in the biggest, bluest eyes I had ever seen. "Are you a policeman?" Heavily accented. Great lips, too. Her mouth was small, and her lips were full, the lower one protruding just the tiniest bit. Her face was a bit on the round side. I guessed she was 18 or 19 - my favorite niece's age.

"No, just another weary traveler. Can I help you? Do you want me to get you a cop?"
That won a wan smile. "No, thank you - just a hotel room."

I pointed across the street. She shook her head. "Everything is full. I came from Philadelphia to take my flight back to Geneva but - " She shrugged and smiled: What can you do?

"And you're just going to stand here on Seventh Avenue all night?"

She had a lovely laugh. "No - just until I can figure out what to do."

"The police are letting stranded folks stay in the waiting rooms inside."

Her eyelids flickered, and she blushed and finally whispered, "I - I am not used to crowds. They frighten me."

"You're in a crowd here. Inside you'd at least be warm."

"I was in there for a little while, but all those strangers in that small space... I felt like I was suffocating."

"You'll freeze out here."

"I do not mind the cold," she said. "I'm quite accustomed to it." She paused, looking uncertain. "I don't suppose you could put me up till morning... Of course not," she gushed, blushing. "How terrible of me to even suggest - " Her pale-complected cheeks showed bright color. She was either a damned good actress or the genuine article.

"How brave of you. This is New York. I am a New Yorker. Like all men in New York, I am a crazed ax-murderer and rapist. Besides, I live alone." She searched my face for some sign that I was kidding. "You can stay with me," I added, deadpan.

"As long as it does not interfere with your Mob dealings," she said somberly.

"Or my white slavery ring."

"But what about the drug orgies?"

"Well..."

"I'll sleep in the closet so I don't interfere," she promised.

"But my gay lover already has the closet."

"Oh, well, then - in the shower."

"Ahhh - good. It's settled."

"My name is Heidi."

"Somehow, I'd already guessed that. Shall we go?"

She shook her head and smiled, hefting her bags and turning the cart-cum-sled. I introduced myself and offered to take one of her bags.

"Thank you, no. I can... handle them. Is it far?"

"Yes and no. We can walk there from here, but it'll be slow going in the snow."

"Lead on, rescuer."

We set off across Seventh Avenue in the blowing, thickening snow of the blizzard (sorry - "White Hurricane"). Along the way we talked. She was a student. She'd been in the Philadelphia and State College areas checking campuses. She was going to major in biophysics. She was Swiss. She had two brothers, one older and one younger. Her father was a banker. (Big surprise.) Her mother had been an Olympic skier.
She was going to be 19 in a month.

In ordinary weather, it was a 15-minute walk from Penn Station to my apartment; that night, it took us almost three times as long to navigate the slippery streets. Fortunately, the frequently malfunctioning elevator in my building was working.
In the harsh fluorescent light of the elevator cab, I studied her face while she studied the little notices taped on the wall by fellow tenants and the ubiquitous takeout menus dropped by numerous delivery men.

Fluorescent light is unforgiving. It magnifies every pore and gives the healthiest complexion a sickly hue; not her face. I couldn't find a pore or line or imperfection in her flesh, and her skin still seemed to glow. And her hair was even paler than it had seemed under the Halogen street lamps in the snow.

The elevator shuddered to a halt, and the door wheezed open. I led her down the short hallway to my door. It took a few seconds for me to find my keys and fumble the locks open. I pushed the door wide, reached in to flick on the lights and made a grand gesture. "Madam, my humble abode." I hoped my cleaning lady had been there during my absence. I followed Heidi into my apartment and locked the door behind us.

"This is very nice," she said simply. "I like it here."

"Thanks. Give me your coat and get out of your - boots?" Which is what she was wearing: hiking boots. Logical for a kid her age in the Northeast in winter.
"Of course." She unfastened the coat as I slipped out of my impractical and totally ruined shoes. Under the coat she wore a leather vest, and black turtleneck sweater and jeans. I was careful not to gape, drool or let my eyes bug out. She was stacked. Above her narrow hips was a waist that I could probably have encircled with both hands; after a dozen plates of ice cream, it might have grown to 19 inches. Her breasts were not huge, but they were disproportionately large and appeared to be perfect, jutting with the proud grace and defiance of her youth.

I hung her coat and mine on hooks on the outside of the foyer closet door and slid the drip mat under them. When I turned back to her, she was bent at the waist, knees straight, and unfastening her boots. Her jeans were tight to begin with; now they were taut over the flesh of her lean, round buttocks. The stitching in the crease of her jeans had pulled up tightly between her legs, and the split of her labia was clear through the fabric. Tired as I was, I was far from dead, and my dick was reminding me of that by stiffening.

When she'd pulled the boots off and straightened, she'd lost a good two inches of her height. The top of her platinum hair was at my shoulder height. I took the boots from her and put them on the drip tray. "That feels so good!" she said, and gave a little shiver. "They are so heavy. Might I make use of your facility?"

"My - ? Oh. Sure. Through there." I pointed. She smiled, excused herself and scurried toward the bathroom. I left her bags where they sat and took mine into my bedroom. I figured I had time, so I quickly stripped and changed into jeans and an old zip-front sweatshirt. It was not the height of fashion, but it was comfortable.
I padded, barefoot, into the kitchen. Still no Heidi. I went into the kitchen and put up some water for tea. Heidi appeared in the doorway. "Would it be an imposition if I used your shower?"

I took her hands in mine. The shock of touch was tangible. I smiled to cover my surprise. "Heidi, you are a guest in my home. Please feel free to use anything you see. If you need something you don't see, just ask. Mi casa es su casa."

"You're very kind to a stranger, but I don't want to impose - "

"If I wasn't willing to have you here, I wouldn't have invited you. Go take your shower. Would you like some tea?"

"That would be lovely." She leaned toward me, stretched up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against my cheek. "You are very kind."

"... 's nothing." That was all I could stammer. Again, her touch was electric. She spun and went to her bags, getting a change of clothes, I assumed. I was grateful for the chance to regroup.

Something was seriously strange. A beautiful 18-year-old Swiss girl named Heidi asks me to put her up for the night, is obviously completely comfortable being near me and touching me - even kissing me (albeit, chastely). She is a physically captivating woman. When we touch, I feel like a character in some idiotic teenage love song from the Fifties (which I remember, with chagrin). And even as I prepare two mugs of hot tea, she is in my bathroom, taking off her clothes and getting into the shower where she will work up a rich, slippery froth of soap all over her glorious body and...

The implacable wailing of the kettle jolted me out of my reverie. I loaded a pair of infusers with some Russian Caravan tea and poured the boiling water. I tried not to picture her in the shower (... lovingly warm water pouring over her sumptuous young breasts, hands moving over her waist, fingers dipping to delicate lower places... ) and put the mugs on a tray. I took the assemblage into the living room and set it down on the cocktail table. I could still hear the shower running (... the water beading on her nipples, rivulets running down the crease of her ass... ). I checked my answering machine; nothing of note, except something I'd been expecting - a friend's lover had lapsed into coma. Too much of that anymore. I felt a pang for him and even more for my friend. His diagnosis was positive, too.

I sat on the sofa and reached for my favorite pipe and my humidor. I hoped she wasn't one of those anti-smoking zealots, offended by the sight of Demon Weed. I'd been looking forward to this bowl for what seemed like ages.

I was just tamping the first light when the bathroom door opened. In a cloud of steam, Heidi emerged with a towel around her head and wearing my bathrobe. "I - I hope you don't mind... Oh! You smoke a pipe!"

I nodded, relighting it. "I hope the smoke doesn't bother you."

"I love the smell of a pipe. It reminds me of my great-grandfather's - " She clamped her mouth shut. "It is a pleasant memory."

I gestured. "Sit, rest, have some tea."

She sat kitty-corner from me on the other leg of the sectional and hefted her mug in both hands. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled the fragrance. "This is wonderful," she said, eyes closed. "At home, when we come in from a cold day, we will have a cup of hot tea..." Her eyes opened slowly. "Sometimes we put a little something in it, to fortify us."

"Something like rum?"

The little spots of color reappeared on her cheeks, and she sipped her tea. The robe, too big for her, was cinched tightly at the waist. When she leaned forward to put the mug back, I got a tantalizing glimpse down the top of the robe to the upper slopes of her breasts. My dick was throbbing insistently.

"There's some rum in that cabinet - " I pointed with the pipe stem. " - if you want. I advise moderation; as tired as you are, it'll hit you hard."

She smiled gently. "I know my capacities." Heidi brought the bottle back from the liquor cabinet. She poured a dollop into her mug and looked the question at me.

"Please - a touch."

She smiled and complied, and I got another glimpse down that robe. I tried to get my mind off it. "Tell me about your home."

The smile metamorphosized into a secretive upturning at the corners of those lush lips. "My home..." She sipped her tea. "It's a very isolated place. My father has a small flat in Geneva where he stays for the business week."

"Is it a small town?"

She shook her head. A few strands of silver hair had sneaked out from beneath the towel. "No, we are very isolated. Very. It can be extremely boring... But I want to know about you, what day-to-day life is like for you in New York City. It must be very stimulating."

"Too much so, sometimes. My work keeps me very busy. I travel a great deal. I've never been to Switzerland, though."

"There's no there, there." Her smile turned odd, almost self-mocking. "The people are all the same, like clones. There're no surprises, nothing unexpected - almost as if we're programmed." She shook her head. "It would be easy to believe we were a town full of robots or somesuch."

"SwissWorld," I suggested.

Her eyes were unfocused for a moment, as if she were seeing someplace else, then she nodded. "Yes. With Yul Brynner as the mayor."

"It must be hard on a bright young woman."

"It's hard on anyone there who wants some diversity in life." She started to yawn, tried to stifle it and failed. She blushed. "I'm sorry. It's not the company but the hour."

"Now it's I who must apologize for keeping you up." I sat down my empty mug and stood. "Let's turn this into your bedroom." I began removing the pillows and cushions from the sectional.

She drained the last of her tea and stood. "How can I help?"

I tossed her the last cushion. "There're extra pillows and bed linen in the closet just inside my bedroom, to the left of the door."

She put the cushion on her part of the sectional and headed for my bedroom while I pushed the cocktail table out of the way and unfolded the convertible bed. She returned with the linens and shook out the bottom sheet. I took my side and began tucking it into place.

"You are very kind," she said, bending to tuck her side - and giving me a good look alllll the way down the robe. "It's so generous of you to take me in like this. I wish there was some way to repay your kindness."

Looking down her robe, I thought of suggesting she take me in - and reminded myself that this was a sheltered 18-year-old. My prick wasn't paying attention and resumed throbbing.

"The pleasure of your company is more than sufficient repayment," I lied, glibly. We finished the sheets and each of us socked a pillow into a case. I tossed mine onto the bed, at the head, as I straightened. "What time do you want to get up?"
"The day after tomorrow," she said, eyes liquid blue on me. "I'm quite drained."
I stifled the impulse to offer a refill.

"I have a timepiece - I am Swiss - " With a quick flash of dimples. " - and I'll set it for seven. I don't want to inconvenience you, so I'll be out of here and on my merry way by eight, on the dot."

"Don't be silly. I won't toss you out of here a moment before noon." She seemed slightly puzzled. "It's a little joke," I explained. "Very little."
She nodded gravely.

"I have no appointments tomorrow, Heidi; it's Saturday. I planned to spend the day recovering from jet lag. Wake me when you get up. Until then, if you need anything, help yourself."

"Thank you."

"Sweet dreams."

"Um, yes - you, too. Good night."

I went into my bedroom knowing I was going to be having wet dreams. As I washed, the weariness again caught up with me. I barely made it to my bed, and I think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow, or some such cliché.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For a moment, I was disoriented in the darkness. I thought I was still in the room in London. Then I remembered where I was and wondered what woke me. I focused on the unintelligible murmuring. Oh, yes, the gorgeous 18-year-old Swiss miss in my living room. To whom was she talking? I rolled carefully to the edge of the bed and stood on unsteady legs, then padded to the door.

" - through the day tomorrow and expect to complete my program by the end of the storm tomorrow night and will return with a full sample in approximately 20 hours - End."

Followed by complete silence. No more voice, no sounds of movement - nothing. I tried to figure it out, decided I was probably dreaming and stumbled back to bed.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was awakened next by a light, almost bashful tapping on my door. Gray light was filtering through the drapes, and the clock said it was a little after 10. "Yes?" I croaked.

Heidi took that as an invitation and opened the door. "Good morning!" she said.
I blinked. Maybe I was still dreaming. She glowed - with energy, youth, vitality... sexuality. "Uh, good morning."

"I have made breakfast for you," she announced proudly.

"Breakfast," I repeated.

"Yes, the first meal of the day, the breaking of the night's fast."

I brought my hand up and rubbed the bridge of my nose. All the water I had drunk during the previous 24 hours - in a vain attempt to subdue the effects of jet lag - seemed to have accumulated in my bladder. I needed to piss in the worst way, which only strengthened the morning hard-on that resulted from fuzzy dreams of one gorgeous 18-year-old Swiss goddess who now stood in my doorway wearing a man-cut dress shirt untucked over what looked like sweatpants. Lucky sweatpants.

"But there was no food," I managed.

"Yes, I saw that, so I took your keys and went out to the local stores and brought back food. The storm has continued!"

("... the end of the storm tomorrow night...")

"That's very thoughtful of you." I realized with a dull thud that laying on my back meant a rather conspicuous tenting of the sheet and single blanket. I rolled to my side, blushing. "Sorry," I muttered.

"Please - I am not offended. Your coffee is prepared, too!"

So much for displays of rampant masculinity inducing weak knees in the fair sex. "That's... nice. I'll join you in a few minutes. Thank you."

She smiled gloriously and closed the door. I groaned and climbed out of the bed, trying to sort through vague dreams and recollections. I waddled to the bathroom and silently commanded my cock to soften. Lacking ears, it did not listen. Matters had not been helped, of course, by not having been laid in a month. With the spread of the HIV plague, it was becoming more and more difficult to find a safe sex partner, and I'd learned a long time before that I was not cast in the role of happily monogamous guy. That meant long spells of no sex, with masturbation as the only release - and frankly, I just didn't enjoy my palm as much as I had when I was a teenager endlessly proving my virility to myself.

After aching minutes of coaxing enough pee out of my bladder to start the flow of release, I stepped into the shower and let the hot spray finish waking me. By the time I'd shaved, brushed, gargled and clothed myself, a good 15 minutes must have passed. I was functional. Not fully awake or alert but functional.

Heidi had laid out a single, formal place-setting in the dining nook and the windows gave proof that, yes, the storm had continued. Was continuing. Snow pelted the panes.
I stared at the breakfast laid out for me. Half a grapefruit, orange juice, a bowl of shredded wheat, a cup of black coffee.

"Aren't you joining me?"

The smile blossomed. "I've already been up for a while, sleepyhead. Sit down and eat. You need fuel for the body!"

I stumbled into the chair and reached for the coffee, desperate. I sipped. It was awful. "This is Folger's, isn't it?"

She frowned and nodded. "Yes. I understood this to be very popular. And it was the only coffee in the store."

So she'd gone to the convenience store. Hey, I wasn't going to gripe; she'd been the one to go out and get the stuff. "Yes, it's very popular."

That smile returned, brightening the room. I took another sip of the "coffee" and the smile intensified. Only then did I realize she had already folded the bed linen and closed the convertible.

"And I brought the newspapers," she said brightly. "You read a lot of newspapers, don't you?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"You just seemed the kind of person who keeps up with your world." She'd brought me the Times, Newsday, Daily News and Post. The first noted the snow. Newsday reported how the New York City-area was responding. The other two screamed BLIZZARD! from their headlines. For the benefit of anyone who hadn't noticed.

As I chowed down, she peppered me with questions about the local stores, the selection of food, the availability of fresh fruit and poultry. A dozen questions, a hundred, as if she'd never seen a modern city before. As I answered, I realized that she probably had never seen anything like midtown Manhattan before - because there'd been nothing like it.

When I'd finished, we both cleared the table, and I showed her how I loaded my dishwashing machine. In the process of reaching to refill my coffee cup, her breast and my arm came into contact. Again, that tingling - and the awareness that her breast was as firm as the grapefruit I'd just eaten and noticeably larger.

"Sorry," I muttered. "Crowded in here."

"It's quite alright. I don't mind." Looking me right in the eye, her gaze level and calm.

We stood like that for a long time. I was intensely aware of the closeness of her and quite certain there was nothing under that shirt and sweatpants but her and equally certain that this was a big mistake on my part. Then her lips parted slightly, and I was kissing her.

Eighteen and sheltered, I thought (sort of) but definitely knowledgeable. Her lips were warm and moist and soft without being sloppy, and her tongue moved like an epee, reaching out to touch and parry, to meet and twirl. She was lithe against me, but insistent. I could feel the heat from between her legs, and the press of her beautifully curved form was burning itself into me.

When my hands moved to cup her hard buttocks, she broke the kiss and said, "It's too crowded in here."

It was the pause that inflames - and gave me time to think (sort of).

"Heidi, this is dangerous - "

"There is no danger." She was urging me back toward the living room, toward the area rug in front of the fireplace.

"But there are diseases - "

"Your words testify to your carefulness."

She was backing me up. "But I don't know anything about your - "

Her hands cupped my face, her gaze laser-flat and intense. We were standing still. "I told you - I am from an isolated place. Trust me: I am safer than you can imagine."

I believed her. But: "Birth control?"

She almost smiled. "I will not conceive."

"But - "

"Will you toss me out into the snow?" And she pulled the blouse open, slowly, popping one button at a time.

I gaped. Her breasts were perfect, rounded in the shape of overripe pears, with an underswell that demanded fingertips. Her nipples were rosy and ever-so-slightly uptilted and ever-so-totally erect. My hands reached out, and my fingers, trembling, grazed the undersides of her tits. Flawless.

Her eyes half-closed and she shivered. "I've wanted that since the first time I saw you," she breathed and pulled my face down to her tits.

Groaning, I fell to my knees and worshiped her breasts. I feasted on them, running my tongue over the underswells and savoring her sighs, brushing my lips over her nipples and feeling her hands tighten in my hair. I was vaguely aware of the shirt falling to the floor behind her and totally aware of my hands caressing her bare back, her waist, her hips, coming to rest on her ass. Oh, her ass! I gripped it as tightly as I could, nearly covering each cheek with my fingers, and there was virtually no give to it. I tugged the waist of the sweatpants as I kissed my way down over her taut belly and indrawn abdomen. Her pubis saw the gray light of day only for a moment before I was pushing my mouth against it, my tongue seeking and finding the damp furrow of her labia beneath the light thatch of damp blonde hair.
I feasted on her pussy as I stripped the sweatpants the rest of the way down the sleek columns of her thighs. Above me, she was groaning and shaking, her hands resting on my head for balance. My tongue found her clitoris, engorged and prominent, and brushed across it. Her clit was large, a particular turn-on for me, and at my first touch, she began to cum - another of my turn-ons. She huffed and gasped and her knees began to buckle. I drew her down into my arms and laid on her rug. When I bent to her thighs again, she pushed me away.

"You must - disrobe," she breathed, her voice husky. It took me roughly 15 seconds to comply. I could not remember my cock being harder than it was at that moment; a kitten couldn't have scratched it. Her fingers came to rest on my shaft.

"Please - teach me," she whispered.

"Are you a virgin?" I was horrified.

"I'm - No, but I've never done it with anyone. Do you mind?"

Mind? I dove back between her thighs and licked and sucked her until the gasps became soft screams, and she was arching and writhing beneath my tongue. I slipped one finger into her moist slot and was appalled by her tightness. She was very narrow and small down there. I was concerned with hurting her.

"Please!" she wailed quietly. "I need to feel you inside me!"

"I'm afraid of hurting you," answered truthfully.

"I don't care! I must have you inside me now!" She tugged insistently on my cock.

I reversed myself clumsily as she pulled her knees up and opened her legs wider. Her feet were flat on the rug to either side of me as I lowered myself above her. She guided my stiff erection to her entrance and rubbed it up and down, grimacing with pleasure each time she brushed her clitoris with my glans.

"Does it please you to see me cum so much?" she asked. "Does it really please you?"

"Nothing could please me more."

If there'd been any hesitation or doubt in her face before, it was totally gone now.
"Fuck me! Please!"

I pushed down and into her. She fed my achingly stiff dick into her tight young pussy, cramming the knob inside. The heat and wetness of her were astonishing. The stricture of her cunt was breathtaking. If she hadn't been so thoroughly lubricated, her vagina would have chafed my cock. But there was also a molten liquidity about her cunt that pulled at me, almost sucking me into her. Her narrow pussy seemed to pulse around me, as if she were cumming already - but not just at the entrance. Her entire cunt was pulling and contracting, dragging my cock deeper into her. My balls had been swollen and tight to begin with; now they felt as if they'd burst.

And all the time, beneath me, Heidi stared up at me with eyes wide - as if she were terrified and at any moment would begin to scream. Her lips were slightly parted and the tip of her tongue lingered at the corner of her mouth, barely visible. She had one hand on my hip and the other guiding my stiff shaft. When my dick was halfway into her, she put that hand on my other hip and pulled me steadily deeper.

"Are you OK?" I whispered. "Are you OK?"

Her eyes bulged. She continued tugging at my hips. She caught her lower lip between her teeth. Her legs came up high around my waist. I felt her heels pounding my ass, then her calves were pulling me deeper into her. My dick felt like she was strangling it and drawing it deeper and deeper. The electric tingle I'd felt whenever she touched me seemed now to be concentrated near my prostate. My balls felt literally as if they would burst. She held me all the way inside her magical cunt and began clenching and spasming on me. The buzzing tingle tightened my entire pelvis. Beneath me, her head was shaking, as if she were having some kind of seizure.
Then she began a groaning noise, one that started somewhere in her belly and growled its way out past her teeth and the slightly bleeding lower lip. At the same time, the constriction around my dick became compelling - like rings of muscle massaging the length of my dick. It was a sensation I'd almost felt once before, when Tina of the Bottomless Throat had gone down on me - but she hadn't had my entire dick in the concatenated rings of gullet muscles, just the end four inches. This was the entire length of my prick, from bone to nut.

And all the while, that intense pressure-tingle in my balls and behind them grew and grew and then -

"SSSSssss - "

She hissed at me, and I felt the cum being sucked up out of my balls and through my cock and into her. I felt like I was pissing cum. The buzz was so intense that my vision went completely out - and my balls just kept producing. The geyser paused - and then another one rocketed out of my dick. The pleasure was so intense, it was excruciating. I was totally paralyzed, immobilized by the intense sensation of the cum. My heart was hammering so rapidly I became afraid. No man was designed to cum like this - and then, after a momentary pause, yet another gusher erupted. This time my balls literally ached as they force-produced the output of a night, a week, a month, a year - all in a span of 20 or 30 interminable seconds.

And then, abruptly, it was over. The tingle was gone, the contractions of her cunt ceased. My dick felt - nothing. My muscles and joints, all locked painfully in the orgasm, screamed in agony. I collapsed atop her, feeling the cushions of her breasts crushed beneath my chest as the blackness came and overtook the ragged gasping that seemed to be coming from my own mouth.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was on my bed. I'd just had the wildest dream. My balls dully ached. I opened my eyes. Heidi, naked, sat beside the bed, watching me. She smiled when she saw I was conscious.

It had not been a dream.

"Wha - " I closed my mouth and tried to swallow. She took a glass from the bed table and offered it to me. The grapefruit juice was tart and cold. I felt the moisture spreading through me as if my parched tissues were soaking it all up. I drank more and felt some semblance of strength returning. The clock said 2 p.m.

"You have recovered," she said softly.

"I don't know if I'll ever recover. I've never cum so hard in my life. I felt like I ejaculated a gallon."

"It was wonderful to feel you cum so much inside me," she cooed. Her nipples were stiffening. "And I want so much more!"

I chugged the rest of the juice and struggled to sit up on the bed. I was still naked and my penis was still limp, but different somehow. It looked - out of place. And my balls still ached.

"It's going to be a while before I can oblige," I remarked.

"I did well, then?" She took the empty glass from me. There was an odd after-taste in my mouth, but in a moment it was gone.

"Quite well. I don't know what got into me to make me cum so hard." I shook my head rapidly, trying to clear the cobwebs.

"It's good that I excited you so much," she breathed softly, setting the glass on the bed table. With lithe grace, she slid onto the bed next to me, kneeling. "I want to do it again."

"I think it'll take some doing - "

"I'll do whatever it takes," she said, pinching one nipple. She tugged it, then released it. Her breast quivered.

To my amazement, I felt my cock swelling. Only then did I realize my balls had stopped hurting - in fact, were feeling full again. Very full.
She ran her hand over my chest and belly, down to my cock. "Would you like me to suck it? Would that excite you more?"

I watched her fingers on my growing erection and realized what was different about my dick: It was bigger. And my balls - my scrotum was literally swollen and distended. I reached down carefully. My testicles had grown larger, also.
"Oh, yes; that's what I'll do," she breathed and shifted. She kissed my nipples and tongued them, then kissed her way down over my stomach. She opened her mouth and took the tip of my cock inside. I felt that now-familiar tingling in my cock and balls as she began to suck and tongue my glans. It was like an electrical current, very low-level but quite discernible.

"I don't understand what's happening," I breathed, but my hand of its own volition came up to cup her breast. I held her tit and felt the weight and firmness of it. She took more of my cock into her mouth. The tingling grew right along with my prick, which was now fully hard and throbbing. I let myself fall back to the bed as she began moving her lips up and down over my cock. She was sucking quite hard and writhing her tongue against the underside of my shaft. When her fingers wandered down to cup my balls, it was as if some sort of circuit had been completed, because the tingling intensified from just behind my balls right to the tip of my cock.
I groaned at the pleasures washing through me. She must have misinterpreted the sound, because she raised her head from my dick. Instantly, the tingling lessened.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, it's so intense - ahhhh!" ... as she again engulfed my cock in her mouth. My ass was tightening, and my hips were starting to shudder. I felt my knob hit the back of her throat, then felt her throat opening and... she was swallowing my cock.
"Oh, yeahhhhh..." I growled as the tight ring of her lips moved steadily downward, down, down, down till she was pressing her nose into the crease of my thigh. Her throat pulsed on my dick in time with the maddeningly light touches of her fingertips on my balls and behind them.

I knew I was maybe 20 seconds from cumming again. The throbbing and swelling of my cock must have warned her, too, because she pulled back off me with a excruciating slowness, sucking and licking all the way. When only my knob was still in her mouth, she turned the suction up to full power - for a moment. And then her mouth opened and she undraped my dick.

I was arched off the bed, trembling and gasping. My erection looked - and felt - as stiff as a broomstick, only somewhat thicker. And it appeared to be quite long.
"So now you are ready again," she cooed, swinging one leg over me and straddling me. Her neck and chest were flushed and her nipples quite swollen. Her pussy was visibly damp, and her clitoris was inflamed and engorged, as if sucking me had turned her on to the edge of orgasm. as well.

She reached between her legs with one hand and grabbed my shaft just behind my glans. I had no doubt any more; my dick was appreciably larger. Her fingers only just encircled it, and there was clearly enough room for both of her hands on it.
"Oh, yes," she sighed, rubbing my knob in the slit of her slick slot. Then she held it in place and pushed down. She groaned, deep in her throat, as she forced her pussy open against my cock. The tingling was like an electric buzz through my dick and back beneath my legs. I almost felt as if I had begun to cum already, though I hadn't. The pressure in my balls, though, made me sure that if I didn't soon, I'd explode.

"AH!" she gasped, the head of my miraculously larger dick inside her magic pussy. She let more of her weight down, impaling herself slowly on my prick. I stared, dumbstruck, at her narrow labia stretching around my shaft and her tight twat gobbling its way down my dick. "Oh, it's so good in there!" When she had half my length in her, she let herself down onto her knees and began fucking up and down on my cock, taking it deeper with each stroke. I kept expecting to hit bottom, but never did.

When she had the length of my newly enlarged cock engulfed in her innards, she leaned forward and let those ruby-tipped tits dangle over my face. She pulled her cunt up slightly, and then I drove up into her as she pushed down. Her mouth opened and her eyes rolled upward in their sockets, displaying the whites. She moaned softly.

"I never knew - Nothing could prepare me - Oh, yes, fuck me like this!"

I kept thrusting, and she met me halfway on every surge. I managed to catch one perfect nipple between my teeth for a moment, and the electricity seemed to flow through my body from my prostate to my mouth. And she spasmed and contracted on me madly.

But then her cunt began those steady, demanding convulsions that sucked at my cock. I felt my prick swell a little more - and then I was pouring the cum into her again. The first spurt must have gone on for more than five seconds. And her pussy pulled and sucked all the harder.

Again I erupted into her, flushing another inhuman geyser of my jism into her sweet pussy. My heart was beating so loudly I expected the neighbors to complain. But the sheer ecstasy and relief in my balls was overwhelming.

But then her cunt began that swallowing movement on me, and another cum was summoned from my overtaxed balls. This time the pleasure was immense, too - but instead of relief, there was a strange, trembling sensation between my nuts, as if they were being forced to do more than they could. They shivered and jerked, and cum shot out of my cock, but the strain was immense. I couldn't seem to breathe, and my vision was dimming, and my limbs were shaking - as if all my body's resources were being rechanneled to produce semen. I felt the stuff blitz up through my cock, a quantity that would be a normal strong surge after a long horny session of foreplay following two weeks of abstinence. It was not a normal load for a guy who'd cum so much or so recently.

But that didn't matter. The buzzing through my cock and balls, the movements of her pussy - they couldn't be denied. I think I was still cumming when I passed out again.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I woke again, I hurt all over. Every muscle was as sore as if I'd just returned to an over-zealous workout after a year away. But instead of being pumped, I was weak. I could barely move my head.

She was sitting beside the bed again, watching me. Her expression was thoughtful.
The windows were dark. The snow had stopped pelting them. The clock said 8:43.

"There is time for one more," she said softly.

I tried to shake my head.

"You no longer find me desirable?"

I swallowed dryly. She leaned over, leading another glass of grapefruit juice to my lips.

"You're killing me this way," I managed to croak.

She shook her head. "It's not likely. Your constitution is strong. You'll be weak for several days and nearly malnourished, but you should recover."

"Who - "

"I am who you want me to be, who you think I am."

"I think you're a succubus."

She chuckled quietly, her perfect breasts jiggling just the slightest bit. I felt some strength flowing through me again. Breathing was less of a chore. She fed me some more of the grapefruit juice - with the odd after-taste.

"I am quite real," she said.

"I don't understand. Explain how my penis and testicles are growing."

"The chemical tells your genes to take your last aroused state and reallocate body resources to make that the flaccid size afterward. You've increased in penile size by 28 percent twice. It's an unavoidable side effect of the reagents necessary to increase your sperm production."

"But how... ?"

"I could give you the biochemistry and genetic procedures, but they'd be meaningless to you. Hard sciences are not your strong point." She smiled gently. "The weakness is because your body hasn't adjusted to the blood supply-demands of your enlarged genitals."

"And the gushing ejaculations?"

"Those won't continue without me." She touched one finger to my abdomen, just beneath my naval - where my limp cock rested - and put another finger on my left thigh. I felt the tingling rush through my body. "A very low voltage electrical charge tuned to the pleasure system. That, combined with muscular contractions, impels the rather copious ejaculations - and the rather powerful pleasures you feel." She poured some more of the grapefruit juice between my lips. Her nipples were so rosy and perfect that I watched one, studying it, fascinated by it. I felt the impulse swelling in my groin. My breathing quickened.

She turned to put the glass on the side table, the movement pulling her torso into sharp and perfect reflect - the arch of her back, the swell of her breasts, the tiny waist, the taut abdomen, the hair a silver cascade. She was a dream incarnate.

"How can you be so - so perfectly what I used to imagine?"

She smiled and leaned over me, brushing my cheeks with her breasts as she traced them down over my chest. She paused with her face inches from mine, her tits pushed against my pectorals.

"You're not from this world, are you?"

She smiled and rubbed her breasts back and forth.

"You're not allowed to tell me - is that it? The Prime Directive?"

She giggled. Giggled. "Oh, you have no idea... I could tell you every detail, you could tell everyone, and no one would ever believe you. You might not even believe me." As she spoke, her hand was wandering, finding and squeezing my rapidly reviving prick. "It's getting so big," she said softly. "Almost - no, more than nine inches long. And a little more than two and a quarter inches thick. You'll have to be careful not to hurt anyone with it - except me, of course." She narrowed her eyes and whipped her head down to take the knob in her mouth. The touch sent a surge of desire through me. She started pushing her head down over me. I watched as I felt the knob hit the back of her mouth.

She pulled back and looked up at me. "Would you like to see me swallow it?" Her hand, constantly stroking the preposterous length of my prick, squeezed my shaft. "Yes, of course you would." She swung around, facing my feet, and again took the knob into her mouth. When it hit her throat, she changed her angle and slowly, steadily, pushed my prick into her throat. Her lips moved steadily downward, lower and lower. I could see her throat bulging with the mass. She kept going till her lips were against my abdomen, maxxed out around the base of my prick. She stayed there for a long time, more than a minute, her throat working on the entire length of my prick. The sensation was so excruciatingly intense that I couldn't cum, even though my balls were hugely swollen again.

She unsheathed me slowly, my glistening, pulsing prick reappearing, inch after inch, from her mouth. When she released the glans, she turned her face to me and let her tongue lick the underside of the bobbing rod.

"You're not a real woman, are you?" I gasped.

Her eyes widened. "Oh? Not feminine enough for you?" She licked again, then smiled. "Not in the sense you mean. I have no gender."

"Machine?"

"A biological machine, completely composed of human tissue, grown to order... with a few adjustments. But enough talk." She swung around, threw her leg over my hips and crouched. She grabbed my stalk and held it straight up, then slowly sank, drawing her pussy lips against it. When she was at her lowest, the tip of my cock was near her belly button. "Hmmmm - you won't find many women who can do what I'm going to do... and none of them will enjoy it more than me!"

With that, she raised herself and put her labia, all swollen and dripping and tightly pressed together, against my glans. My knob was as big as her entire pubis. She wedged her lips open against my tip. I could feel the pulsating heat of her. I could also see this wasn't going to work.

"No, please - you'll hurt yourself."

"Appearances are deceiving," she said softly. "I can accommodate you - watch!"
And she let her weight come down on her pussy.

I stared, dumbstruck, as her cunt opened wider... and wider... and wider... and swallowed my now-huge glans. She was panting rapidly, her nipples tremendously swollen.

"It f-f-feels so good and... enormous in there!"

She began pumping her hips, sliding my prick deeper with each stroke. Her flat belly began to bulge as she reached the halfway point. I could see the mound of my dick in her flesh, pushing higher and higher on her abdomen. I kept waiting to hit bottom. I might as well have been waiting for Godot.

For her part, Heidi kept pumping, maintaining her pace despite the increasing length of her strokes. Her excitement was visibly and palpably growing. Mine was already full-grown, and my cock felt like it was going to burst from the pressure. Only her pussy's grip was keeping it from exploding - or so it felt.

What was most amazing was the sheer impossibility of it. She was taking all but an inch of my newly enlarged prick into her on every stroke. It should have been slamming into her stomach - but instead of showing discomfort, Heidi was groaning loudly and clearly enjoying it. Her belly periodically rippled, and she'd lose her rhythm - at the same time as her pussy clutched and spasmed on me.

She pushed down one final time and took me into her till our pubic bones met. She held herself there and threw her head back, that shimmering silver blonde hair flowing like a river of mercury. I could see the fat bulge of my cock in her belly, in her abdomen, even as she reached up with both hands to grip her nipples and pinch them. She shook and writhed atop me.

Suddenly, her face was turned toward me and her eyes were level and steady on mine. She was completely motionless. Even her vaginal muscles had stopped moving for the moment.

"But - why?"

"Where I come from... When I come from, really... humans have genetically engineered themselves into perfection. All of the genetic diseases have been eliminated. The great epidemic killers of this time are gone. So are the genes for violence, for any imperfection of mind or body. All pheromone responses have been eliminated, to curtail sexual impulse, because they can interfere with higher pursuits. Humans live... until they tire of it or get careless. And reproduction is strictly controlled and licensed. It's been this way for... a very long time. People like me were created to provide entertainment, variation. Pleasures. I can expand or contract my structures and cells by a great proportion - at will."

Her vagina began closing tighter around my cock.

"But - "

"I can be anything to anyone." And with that, her breasts began to swell, her waist narrowed. Before my eyes, she was morphing into a caricature of a woman, an hourglass-figured beauty of unreal proportions. I felt her closing around me, her pussy shrinking. "I can be your doll, That singer of Country blues, with the huge breasts -"

"I know," I gasped.

"Or, for the pedophile..." And her face began changing, her body began to condense. Her breasts disappeared, her hips narrowed, her features became younger, childlike. She became shorter, smaller, young, looking like a 15-year-old, a 13-year-old, 12...
"Oh, Mister, it's so BIG inside me!" she piped in an 11-year-old's voice. Her thighs appeared not much thicker than the preposterous cock rammed into her. "Look!" She ran her fingers along the obscene bulge of my dick in her abdomen, her belly, up to her diaphragm. "I can touch it!"

She began to change again, this time to a Nubian giantess. Again: an Amazonian body builder. Again: a voluptuous Thai hourine.

"I can be anything you want," whispered the Asian lovely impaled on my cock.

"I like you as I met you," I groaned.
And she morphed again, was doing it even before I spoke, changing back to beautiful Heidi.

"I know," she said, "I was informed. That's why I became her for you."
And it was her again - and she was starting to move once more, up and down, an inch or so at a time. My balls were getting dangerously tight again.

"But why me?"

"Humans have become perfect in my time," she said, her breathing quickening, her nipples stiffening. "And in that perfection they have become monotonous - all the same. I'm assigned to get as much sperm from you as I can before I leave. You're the leavening required to bring some spark back."

"From me?"

"You're a nonconformist. You're imaginative. You have no recessive traits for genetic disease. You've always hungered to know what's going on out there among the stars." She smiled. "'Out there where the big ships go.' You still have a sense of wonder. It's all the things missing from humans in my time."

She pumped faster. My hips, of their own volition, were slamming up to meet hers.
"You seem to know a lot about - about my genes."

"You signed a release to allow some of your sperm from the sperm bank to be studied. It's all in the databanks, Patient 1145937. You're famous in my time." She bit her lip, bobbing faster. "Oh! This is - is - is going to be the most intense one yet! Oh! OH!"

She was bouncing higher. I put my hands on her hips to control her movements. She began panting and moaning more loudly, then wailing. Her cunt went into mad spasms, convulsions that wrenched at the last of my self-control.

I growled and with the last of my strength arched up at her. My balls pulled up hard, and then the cum was gushing out of me, a long waterspout of an ejaculation that went on and on. My enlarged balls were pumping cum by the ounce into her receptive pussy - or so it felt. And I couldn't stop any more than I could have halted a sneeze. My chest tightened, and I couldn't draw a breath. My heart hurt - and so did my thighs. The cum went on and on, probably past the time I fell back, unconscious and spent.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke from the savage dream late in the morning, aching and weak. Every muscle, tendon and joint hurt. I tried to move and couldn't; I slept again. In mid-afternoon, I woke again and this time managed to stagger weakly into the living room. Of course I was alone. I was parched. I stumbled to the kitchen and got a bottle of Evian. I could barely open it. I drank slowly and carefully. What a dream! I reached down to scratch my sticky thigh and my fingers brushed my limp dick.
I stared at it, unbelieving. It hadn't been a dream?

In the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. Gaunt, dark-eyed, weak - and hung like a bull. I tried to tell myself I was still dreaming as I returned to the living room and found the newspapers she'd bought the day before. It had to have been a dream, complex as it was, because otherwise those researchers up the line, in the future, would have known I'd had my sperm frozen in preparation for the vasectomy.