Forty-Eight Hours in Heaven & Hell

"One last dip in the tub?" Sherrie asks. While Travis passes out, she and I wade in. As she leans against the side, I slide down into the water and start working her slit with my tongue. I turn her around and rim her, plunging my tongue deep into her ass, then come up for air. She embraces me and whispers in my ear "Yes, Michael, eat me till I cum once more!"

In the water, I am able to lift her and spread her nicely. I become her shark! The water's warmth and my tongue brings her quickly to the brink. I know by the vise-like grip her legs have on my head—and then sudden relaxation— that she cums.

She holds me close, not saying anything. Then I ask, "Coming to work tomorrow? Eight till three, remember!"

"You bet, lover," she smiles. "That leaves half the afternoon and all evening for more adventure!"

Part 2 Phantasmagoria

“Goooood Mornin’, Sherrie!” I shout as I see her at the time-clock. She looks at me with panic, and then I realize—no, this is supposed to be Todd, stupid shithead! She explains that she wants to keep this job, at least for a while.

We play stupid adolescent games all day, drawing a few stares from customers who think we’re just an openly gay couple. Not good. We’ll hear about this sooner or later.

At afternoon break, we talk in the lunchroom.

“So, tell me, Sherrie,” I say. “What are you up for after work? A bit of S&M, maybe?”

“Me a dominatrix? I don’t think so!” Sherrie says. “I didn’t know until this morning that Trav’s got a gig up in Beloit—he’s sax in a band. So, he’s gone, probably back tomorrow afternoon. What do you wanna do, Hot Stuff?!”

I am suddenly delighted. “Cool! I was hoping something like that might happen—you know, you and me together. Last night was fine. I kind of craved something exotic. But I’m a romantic at heart. I want to make love with you. You know, the two of us in bed, drinking wine, smoking dope, dipping in the hot tub. Then later on, we could fuck, you know, like wild animals! Sound okay to you?”

“A wholesome Saturday night date, huh?” she laughs. Then, in a pensive voice, she says, “I’d really like that, Michael. I’d love to spend time with you in bed—and in the tub and in the kitchen and anywhere you wanna fuckin’ be!” she adds with her infectious laugh.

“Let me get clear on one thing, though, Sher,” I say. “Trav seems a bit possessive. Is this cool with him? Like, if we’re humping in the hot tub and he walks in cause his gig got cancelled—like, would he join us or pull out his .38 and plug me or you or both?”

“If you’re wondering if I asked his permission, then no. I mean, he’s the guy who asked me to find him another man for sex, so I don’t think he’s got much to say to me! Or you!” Fine.

After work, I follow her back to the townhouse. As I drive, I think about how pretty and sweet she is. She is everything I love in a woman physically. And she is self-confident around men (at least me anyway) and sexually sure of herself. She isn’t the least hesitant to let her needs be known nor ignorant on how to please the needs of others. She plays games, no doubt, but they are intelligent games and she’s very clever. I like the web she spins!

[watch for the black widow spider, Michael. she could be one! sucking out your blood!
yeah, well, you would know, author! and if she is sucking, I hope it ain’t blood!]

We embrace immediately after entering the door, barely waiting for it to close.

“Michael,” she says, “make me laugh, make me hot, make me scream with pleasure! Just don’t make me fall for you, okay? I already feel that starting to happen!”

“And don’t break your heart?” I ask. She nods yes.

As I hold her, I look into her eyes. I laugh a little. “Sometimes, when someone wins a big jackpot in the lottery, I hear them say ‘No, no, this isn’t going to change my life!’ I always chuckle. I think, well, if 20 million dollars ain’t gonna change your life, why the fuck are you playing the game!

“If you fall for me, Sherrie, as you put it, if you come to love me and that doesn’t change your life, then why the fuck are you playing this scene!?” Sherrie laughs. “Got any wine?” I ask.

“Fuck the wine. Let’s break out the bong!” Sherrie says.

We finish the reefer and we’re smokin’ stoned! “Come and follow me,” she purrs.

We take off our clothes, simply and quietly. The couch is comfy as hell! As I lie down, Sherrie lies down next to me. I am so taken by her that I sigh deeply as she lays cupped on my shoulder. She is so sweet and hot and subtle. This is all wrong—and all right!

We begin to make love. I kneel on the floor. Not an inch of her goes untouched or unkissed. Her breasts are incredibly sensitive and she arches her back and legs as I lick and suck and blow on them! I lie on top of her and she digs her nails into my ass; her breaths quicken into panting. Sherrie then lies atop me and kisses me passionately and deeply while grinding her hips against mine. I completely enclose her with my arms and legs and squeeze, trying to push her passion farther into me. She kisses my neck and nibbles my ear. She moves down and sucks each of my nipples, kissing them and licking them.

Farther down, she kisses and licks me between my thighs. She spreads my legs a little. She inhales both my balls into her luscious, sexy mouth. She tongues them and bathes them with her spit. She releases them and sucks them in again, over and over. She is making love to my balls! She moves to my cock, holding it and just licking it. She looks at it, like she’s never seen one. When it twitches in her hand, she engulfs my hood and swirls her entire head around it. I don’t know if she’s acting, but she seems to be making love to my cock as well.

“Stop, Baby,” I ask quietly. She looks at me like I’m fuckin’ nuts! “You’ve brought me too close, and I have miles to go before I sleep!” I quietly laugh.

“What does that mean, Michael? Don’t you want to cum in my mouth?” Sherrie asks.

“No,” I say. “I haven’t been inside you yet.” She nods, understanding. She straddles me, one leg on the couch, the other on the floor. Holding my cock in one hand, she lowers herself until it just touches her. She stops. She rubs her lips with my cockhead, moistening it with her honey. When I am slick, she thrusts down till I cannot possibly get any deeper. She rests that way, me so very deep, and she does a little grind on me. For minutes, she works her hips slowly forward and back, side to side. My cock touches every pore inside her. Her body is so lithe, so feline, as she stretches backward. She keeps leaning back, resting on her arms behind her. My cock stretches her inside. I prop myself on my elbows and look at all her beauty, taut but not tense, sensual but not sexual, pleasing and being pleased. We form a V. Her face glows. We each thrust our hips in a kiss of sensuality! We work together in a duet of the senses.

She rises up, leans forward, and lies on top of me again. She tenderly cups my head in her hands.

“I’ve never felt like this, Michael,” she whispers and looks into my eyes. “Never.” She pauses and asks, “Why?”

I hold her close to me. “You’ve never let yourself” is all I can say.

“I want to lie on my back on the floor,” she says. “I want to open my legs and have you inside me. I want to make love to you and for you to make more love to me until you cum. And then make love to me after that. I want this feeling to never leave me.”

She lies on the floor and I kneel between her legs. Her body is perfect, the moment is perfect. She raises and spreads her legs wide. I stretch over her and she guides my cock. I glide into her effortlessly. We both moan like it was the first time! This is not sex, though it is a sexual act. We transcend our bodies. As I move forward and back inside her, our sensual selves dance a soulful tango. It is effortless and intense sensuality.

My orgasm is slow and lasts longer than just my semen leaving my body. It is so much more than an orgasm of flesh and I am still one with Sherrie. She knows I have cum, but the dance continues. My head is next to hers and we both breathe heavily and deeply. She lowers her legs.

I raise myself and kneel between her once again. I burn the image of her into my mind. I lower my head and kiss her mons lightly. She groans and covers her face with her hands. I never close my eyes as I kiss and lick and suck her. Every second becomes a frame of film in my memory. She pulls my head to her, and as I tongue her clitoris, her body heat rises hotter than I ever thought flesh could be.

Her breathing quickens and deepens. All I taste is love, savoring each drop. Her entire body becomes rigid, holds, and then shudders, what seems like for minutes. I am bathed in our mingled fluids.

“I want to taste us,” she whispers. I lap her deeply and hold us in my mouth. Now I lie atop her and she enfolds me in her arms. She smiles at me and brings my lips to hers. I open mine and her tongue swirls throughout my mouth. She sucks my tongue.

“Love. This is the taste of love!” She looks at me. What is this expression, I ask myself. Not a smile or a grin. I have not seen this look in a woman’s face. It is a look I may have once seen in a painting. I wonder what look I have.

“You look a little shit-faced pleased with yourself, Michael!” she says. “You should! That was what a man making love should be!”

She kisses me all over my face and laughs. She clasps me to her.

“I hate you, Michael!” she says. “I told you not to make me fall for you, but you went ahead anyway. I will never, ever, ever forget this!” She kisses me again and laughs again. “What galaxy are you from, anyway?!”

“Phantasmagoria,” I say, laughing too.

“No, this is real, not a dream or hallucination. I couldn’t have dreamed or fantasized this—stoned, drunk, or sober!” Sherrie says. “You won’t believe this, but an hour ago, I kinda liked this guy named Michael. I wanted him to fuck me! But he didn’t. He made love to me instead and now I love him. More deeply than I have ever felt about anyone or anything!”

Leaning on my elbows, both of my hands over her face, I reach my right hand to my left and remove the ring, laying it aside. Sherrie picks it up.

“I’ll keep it for you, Michael. But if you ever ask for it back, you’ll have to pry it from both my hands!”

[you’re following the story fine, Michael, but i’d look for the speed bumps ahead! just a friendly warning!
thanks, author. but you know what a stupid fuck you made me! I know there are speed bumps—that ain’t no help! but what do I do when I hit them?!]

I follow Sherrie to the hot tub. I, too, have taken her hook, line, and sinker. Go ahead, I think, fuckin’ break my heart. Just don’t do it right away. Later, maybe Sunday, wouldn’t be a bad time to die!

We enter the tub. My flesh is so hot that the water seems cold! I reach behind Sherrie, cup her breasts, and pull her to me. She reaches around and grabs my ass, pulling me to her. We kiss many times; they are quick loving kisses.

We dance in the water. We stumble and dunk each other. It is all another form of making love. I lay her back on my one arm. She is nearly weightless, floating. I skim her arms, breasts, and belly with my other hand. I move her to the chrome ladder, glistening with steam. She grabs it and I move between her legs, now resting on my shoulders. She is suspended before me. I make mouth-love to her. That is but the physical part. My entire body and being are at work as I kiss and lick and suck on her. Sherrie moans and thrashes in the water. Using her legs, she pulls my shoulders toward her to bring me deeper and more firmly into her, against her.

“Oh, God, Michael, yes! Yes!” she screams. “Take me there again!”

I am immersed in her, this Sherrie. I open her lips and see her bright red clit, sparkling with water and her wetness. I flick my tongue over it and she tenses, thrusts up. I do it again and her legs squeeze my head. I place my hands to cup her ass and pull her up toward me. My mouth engulfs her entirely and I suck. I want to suck this woman into me.

Sherrie’s body relaxes. It is the moments between lightning and thunder. I back off. Then, I suck her once more and she shudders and screams and groans.

“Oh, Michael! Oh, Jesus!” she yells, over and over. Then she becomes completely limp and I move to hold her up in the water in my arms. Her entire body quakes, as though in a seizure. Her eyes remain closed for a while, and then she looks at me. She reaches one arm to my head and caresses my face with her hand. She looks aglow again.

“What’s today’s date?” she asks. I have to think.

“October 7,” I say. “Why?”

“Because 42 years, 3 months, and 5 days after I was born, I have had the most wonderful, hot, sexy, steamy, spiritual, happy experience of my life! And sex too!” She laughs. She takes herself out of my arms and stands before me.

“You are so special, Michael,” she says, then rests her head on my chest.

The phone rings and Sherrie tenses in my arms.

“I’ve got to get that,” she says. The moment of making love is gone and the world returns like a heavy cloak. Fuck, I think! Here’s the speed bump!

She answers it and her entire body goes white. Must be ol’ Trav, I think. She walks into the kitchen so I cannot hear her words, but I can hear the rising and falling of her voice—from pleading to anger to defiance to sniffling. If I could reach through that phone, I’d fuckin’ strangle the fuck-shit on the other side!

I stand in the tub and rest my head on the edge, thinking it’s time to put the ring back on and chalk this up to “I told you so!” Just get quietly dressed, take the ring, and walk out, I say to myself.

Sherrie kneels next to me at the edge of the tub, though I do not look at her. I’m ready for the “Dear Michael” talk.

“Shall we play ‘I’ve Got a Secret’?” I ask, perhaps a little too sarcastically.

Sherrie is sniffling and can’t control her tears. I get out of the tub, reach for a towel, and hand it to her. Her pain is deep and I must take some of it. I kneel beside her.

“It’s easy to be happy and in love when life is going good. It sucks when you hit a pothole and a tire goes flat in a second,” I say, touching her. “But the garden doesn’t grow just on the good times, Babe. It grows stronger and deeper from the bad and what two people do with it. Whaddya got for me, Sher?”

She holds my wrist and brings it to her face, helping to wipe away her tears.

“That wasn’t Travis, like you might have thought,” she stutters. “He’s just a 28-year-old shit I use for dope and fucking and living with. There’s another, though, Michael. I have a female lover I’ve been involved with for a little while. Travis is such a ‘me’ person and I needed someone who understood me as a woman. Kayla’s her name. We’ve had sex but she’s really more a friend I need to talk to once in a while. That’s who was on the phone.

“I hadn’t been seeing her much lately. After you left last night, I called her and left a message, telling her I didn’t want to see her again.”

“Is that true, Sher? Or because of me?” I ask.

“Partly you. Mostly I just don’t like her scene. She’s a jealous bitch, too. She didn’t mind Travis cause she knew I never loved him.

“I’ve found my dream in you, the dream I couldn’t have ever dreamed but knew it to be true from the moment I first met you. Even when I was Todd. Now, the best day of my life—fucked by that bitch!”

Her head is now in my arms. I’m feeling like Dr. Ruth, Mr. Fucked-Over, or Monsieur Confused. Okay, all three.

“I told her my love of my life was but a few feet away, and she laughed! I despise her. She laughed like I can’t tell love from shit!” Sherrie pauses. “You are the love of my life, aren’t you Michael?”

“Sherrie, my sweet, you’re old enough to choose the road you go down,” I say. “You can’t break my heart, just yet. But you’re close.” I pause. “I don’t think you want me to make decisions for you. I’m ready to build on what we’ve got, or let go, if I have to. I’m not the author of this anyway! But I’ll respect whatever you decide. I’ll stand with you on that.”

[you’re finally getting it, Michael. good!
i think you’re putting words in my mouth, author! i’m just trying be play the good guy! everyone needs a good guy at least once in their lives, don’t they?]

“Baby, I need you now. She’s coming over and I’m going to tell her that she and I are through, whether you stay or not. I want her to see me with you. I want her to see how you’ve changed me. And I so much need you to hold me.”

“Just don’t do this for me, Sherrie, that’s all I ask.” She hugs me, we stand, dress, and straighten the place a little.

Though I’m just part of the scenery for this, I’m really nervous. I’m in a townhouse where last night I had sex I never expected to ever happen. No regrets, just surprise. I spend a few hours today enjoying the most physical and spiritual sensuality of my life. And now I’m going to help the woman I’m falling in love with break up with her lesbian lover. Who’s writing this shit, anyway?

[i am! don’t insult your creator, Michael. I can click on ‘find and replace’ anytime, you know!
thanks, author! good to know i’m so fuckin’ indispensable! where’d you be without me?
oh, writing the denouement of ‘4 sons of guns’!]

The doorbell rings and Sherrie kisses me. “I really do love you,” she says and then opens the door. Kayla stands there defiantly. I immediately dislike her, though I hated her before I ever saw her. She’s actually a good-looking woman, though a bit butch. Shoes are to dykes what mousse is to queers! Sherrie lets her in, closes the door, and walks over to where I’m standing.

“Michael, this is Kayla,” she says, equally defiant. Can someone give me a clue what to do here? Thankfully, Kayla makes the move.

“You’re dumping me for this old fart?” she asks. “After all the love and care I’ve given you, you want this man to love? What the fuck for? What do you know about him? He’s got what he wanted from you! Bet you’re dumped and back at my door in 2 fuckin’ days!”

“He’s given me more in less that 24 hours than all the other men and women in my life have given me in 42 years, Kayla. Please don’t make this uglier!”

I stand behind Sherrie and embrace her waist. I look at Kayla, shooting knives, darts, bullets, and whatever ammo she can from her eyes.

“Do you love Sherrie, Kayla?” I ask. “Because if you do, your love should respect her and care that she is happy. Does she look happy?” I give Kayla a moment. “If you don’t love her, then look at her one last time. But either way, get the fuck out of here!” Did I just say that? Nicely done!

Sherrie turns her back on Kayla, puts her arms around my neck, and kisses me. We hear the door slam shut.

“I’ll never be the same, Michael. You have changed my entire life in a day! I love you so! Fuck winning 20 million compared to what I got!” she says. “Let’s go to bed!”

We undress, and just cuddler under the covers. Sherrie lays in my arms. Right now, I am emotionally and physically exhausted. I do not want sex. I want to nap!

“I know what you’re thinking, Michael!” Sherrie says sleepily. “You ain’t no fuckin’ old fart in my book! You’re my fountain of youth!” I smile. And we sleep.

Part 3 The House of Blues

When I wake, it is completely dark except for the red glow from the alarm clock. 7:17. Let’s see, it’s Saturday, October 7. This time yesterday, I was working in a department store. Two hours later, a cute guy named Todd blows me in a parking lot. Now, that same person, Sherrie, is laying asleep in my arms!

[you’ve left out most of the other wonderful experiences i’ve given you! how about some credit!
i know you, author! i’ve been in a couple of your stories! what you give you can easily take away! win a fuckin’ pulitzer and then I’ll give you credit!
easy, Michael!]

Sherrie stirs and takes a few moments to orient herself too. “Michael, you’re still here, aren’t you?” she asks in the dark.