Wanted: Young Man with Red Hair

Amid his own faint gasps of shock and the woman's quiet cries of, "Oh, easy, be gentle!" he buried his cock to the hilt. It was a stunning revelation. Never had he imagined that a woman's body could yield the sensations, the ecstasy, which now coursed through him. Adam marveled at the feel of satiny flesh now tightly enclosing his manhood; then, as if on instinct, he withdrew. Now he understood that the greatest pleasure would arise from gliding his cock back and forth in her slick warm cleft.

I never knew, he thought, filled with elation. Who would have guessed? He realized that he could, again and again, plunge himself into the woman's secret sheath, and that each thrust would be no less delightful than the first.

Soon the woman began to move in rhythm with him, rising up with her hips to welcome his cock. Her entreaties of, "Easy, easy, gentle," caused him to slow. Some instinct told Adam that he must be considerate of the woman even as his own carnal urges became more powerful.

With their bodies growing ever warmer, the young man could not resist moving his lips to the woman's and planting them firmly against hers. She at first recoiled, then returned his kiss with only one faint moan. At last he knew the delectable taste of this creature.

It was pinnacle of intimacy as they embraced each other passionately. Now was revealed in full the pleasures that a man and a woman may give each other. Adam's senses were overwhelmed as he tasted her kisses; felt her smooth supple body against his; savored the thrill of his manhood buried in her delicious warmth.

Only when the tingles of electricity suddenly became bolts of lightning that shot though his body, eliciting more gasps of astonishment, did Adam give in to his base instincts and thrust into the woman with animal abandon. She gamely held on, murmuring, "Oh, easy!" as he felt a great flood of semen gush from him.

Afterwards came more soft kisses, his manhood still nestled in its snug haven. The air was now tangy and heavy with perfume and sweat and musk. The scent and feel of her body, the relaxed tingling in his cock, all merged into one wonderful sensation for the young man. The woman in turn held him loosely, breathing deeply but saying nothing.

Finally Adam broke the silence. "Ma'm?"

"Yes?"

"Who are you?"

"You may call me Sarah."

"Is that really your name?"

"No. But I've always liked it. If I could have chosen my name, it would be Sarah."

"Can you tell me why I was brought here? I can't make any sense of it."

"No. You have been told all you need to know." She paused, then went on hesitantly in a lower voice. "I was so, so frightened, but now I find it not so awful as I imagined. You are a sweet young man."

"Can I ask how old you are?"

"I will not see twenty-five again; but I have yet to reach the age of thirty-five."

"I don't feel a ring on your hand. Are you single, or maybe a widow?"

"My marital status is of no concern to you."

"Should I go now?"

"No," the woman said quickly. "Let us see what happens if we just lie here quietly in each other's arms."

Lying quietly in each other's arms soon led to more kisses which became warm and then passionate. That in turn led to Adam mounting the woman a second time and a mutual realization that ecstasy no less than the first time awaited them.

Just as Adam once again reached climax and filled the woman with his semen, she embraced him in an iron grip, crying, "Oh my word!" Now came quick thrusts with her hips and torso as she drew the young man's cock into the very depths of her, without restraint and in no way modest or ladylike.

For long moments it was Adam's turn to hold on as he thrust in unison with Sarah, who writhed quite out of control, using his manhood for her own carnal pleasure. Once again came deep moans and sighs from her, this time not out of fear, but very different emotions. Her ecstasy rose and fell until finally she released him, gasping for breath between faint cries of "Good gracious!" and, "Oh that was so nice!"

In the afterglow, between gentle kisses, Adam said, "What just happened to you?"

There was a pause; from the darkness came the woman's voice. "You don't know?"

"Not really. Seemed like you were enjoyin' it a whole lot. Can women enjoy it too?"

He heard a chuckle. "You are a wonder, young man," she said. "How can you know nothing about a woman and yet have such an instinct for pleasing her?"

"Is that why I was brought here? You don't seem that hard to please. Can't nobody in New York do it?"

The room was silent for long seconds. Adam felt the woman grasp his arm and squeeze tightly. "Listen to me," came her voice, "say nothing to Norris about whether or not it pleased me. If he inquires, tell him only that I accepted you dutifully. What happened here must remain within these walls. Promise me!"

"Yes Ma'm, I promise. But why can't I see you? Why all this secrecy?"

After a space of silence the woman said, "Did you enjoy being with me? Would you like to do so again?"

"Heck yes! I never knew a man 'n a woman could have so much fun together!"

"You may be with me again, but only so long as you agree to never ask questions. Not tonight, not ever. That is my bargain. Will you consent?"

"I guess so."

"Then go."

Adam rose up slightly, then impulsively sought in the darkness the woman's lips one last time. To his surprise she held him with warm affection, yet again moaning as they shared a long kiss goodbye. Then the young man was up and putting on his garments. He paused; no sound came from the bed.

Norris was waiting in the hallway, as if he had never left. "Well," he said gruffly, "I trust you did your duty in a way that would make us males proud."

"I believe so."

The older man led the way as they returned to the bathroom where Adam's clothes awaited. After he had dressed, they walked to the servant's entrance. Norris then paused, saying, "Return to your hotel and await my next communication. Use your free time as you choose. There are many grand sights here in the city to keep a rustic like you amused."

He then took Adam's shoulder. "But sir, make no attempt to return to this house or to inquire who lives here. I will tell you now that trained men may be following your movements. You will not be allowed to come near this place except when bade to do so. Are we clear on that?"

"I reckon." He turned to leave, then stopped. "Norris, tell me something. The lady up there in the bed. Was she at Delmonico's earlier tonight?"

The older man hesitated, then said, "Yes, she was there. She had to see you."

"Is she beautiful, Norris? As beautiful as I imagine her?"

Now for the first time the man's eyes grew warm. "She is truly exquisite. Every bit as lovely as you envision. My boy, you must know what an honor you have been given, to lie with such a woman as she."

*******

Adam spent the next day resting and walking the streets near the Algonquin. He entered Bryant Park from 6th Avenue and sat on a bench, gazing at the women who passed by. Most were decked out in ankle-length silk dresses and ornate bonnets. Now the young man viewed them through experienced eyes. Each of these creatures has delights I never dreamed of, he mused. Each can give a man the pleasure I took last night. It seemed too good to be true.

Yet his thoughts always returned to what had happened in Sarah's bed. He relived every moment, every sensation. With each passing hour he felt a keen desire to return to that bed.

On the following day, another telegram was waiting as he came down to the hotel dining room for breakfast. In it was the message he had hoped for. That night the ritual of taking a hansom cab to Brooklyn Heights, of bathing and being led to the woman's bedchamber by Norris, was played out as before.

This time no candle burned when he entered. The room was silent; as black as the deepest cave. Adam undressed beside the bed, then whispered, "Sarah?"

"Yes?" came her reply.

He entered the bed's warmth. This time the young man and the woman eagerly came together. A thrill went through Adam as he realized that tonight she was entirely nude. He was made breathless by the feel of her silky legs entwined with his; by the heat of her torso and her soft yet firm breasts pressed fully against him; by taut nipples that sank into his flesh.

When their lips came together in the darkness, there was no hesitation. Once again came the sweet exhilarating taste of the woman. For long moments they kissed hungrily and feverishly, their bodies soon sleek with oily perspiration.

Then from the darkness came an urgent plea, "Oh, do not keep me waiting, dear boy!"

This time the dear boy knew just what to do.

Time seemed to stand still; the stars paused in their movements. Nothing existed for Adam save this bed, this stygian darkness, this woman whose body offered pleasure beyond imagination; whose body demanded complete fulfillment in return.

Adam was utterly spent when he finally emerged from the bedchamber, unaware that well over two hours had passed. He was still breathing hard. Without realizing it, he had a tired smile of satisfaction on his face.

Norris held up the lamp and gazed at him for a few seconds. In measured tones he said, "You are the luckiest son of a bitch on earth."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. It's time to get you dressed and out of here."

Adam Wylie remained at the Algonquin Hotel. During the day he toured Manhattan, viewing the lively markets, marveling at the strange languages being spoken. He visited the new copper-colored Lady Liberty statue; explored Central Park; rode the ferry to Staten Island.

But in truth he was only marking time. Time until once again he could enter the bedchamber on Willow Place. Until once again he could embrace that woman who now captivated him beyond the power of words to describe.

At first he ached to see her; to just once view this superb creature who so thrilled him. After a week he was not sure he wanted that. In the absence of vision, all his other senses were magnified. The taste and feel and fragrance of the woman became wonderfully intense and pleasurable.

How does a man come to know a woman's body? Without ever seeing her, Adam came to know Sarah down to the smallest detail. In the darkness his hands roamed over her, making one discovery after another. In he waist, her ankles, her long neck, she was slim and lithe. Yet the contours of her full breasts and wide hips pronounced her to be richly endowed as a woman.

Adam came to know with his hands and his lips the heft and curves of her bosom. He learned the texture of her nipples, from soft to fully taut; the soft, swollen feel of her areolae; he knew the bumps that arose on those areolae when they made love.

His hands and lips ventured farther below to explore the mane covering her sex. It was like nothing he had ever felt: as soft as corn silk; as plush as the coat of a mink. He savored the astonishing smoothness of her inner thighs; the piquant aroma of her sex as he kissed the flesh near that citadel of pleasure.

When he entered the woman, his cock became the source of all physical sensations, creating a starburst of pleasure. Adam became intimately acquainted with the feel of her wet sheath tightly enclosing his manhood.

As enjoyable as were his thrusts into Sarah, it was no less pleasurable to slowly enter her and then, for long moments, hold his cock deep within her. That most intimate part of her seemed then a living thing. He would savor every ripple and shudder, every contraction and loosening of that flesh that gripped and caressed his manhood. The woman's body seemed a boundless source of carnal pleasure.

Adam realized that Sarah possessed a remarkable ability to reach climax not just once but several times before his cock finally withdrew. Up to now he had thought that only a man could take pleasure from sex. Now he felt something approaching envy to know that she could enjoy in succession long moments of ecstasy where his own was just the one time and all too brief at that.

But it was Sarah's face that fascinated him most of all. He came to know its every nuance: the wide cheekbones; the tapering chin; the nose that was narrow and straight, a classical patrician nose. Her lips were full and supple, somehow making every kiss unique, different from all others.

Her voice, soft and lilting, likewise captivated him. Adam sensed in the voice a smooth confidence that came from having given orders throughout her life; commands that were obeyed without question.

One night the wind was whistling around the corners of the house, the only sound he could hear. Having shot his bolt for the second time, he and Sarah lay together. He sensed that he was perhaps good for one more joining of their bodies.

"Sarah?" he ventured.

"Yes?"

"I wish we could talk more."

"Why, angel?"

"I like the sound of your voice. It's comforting somehow. I could listen to you for hours, no matter what you said."

Sarah was idly caressing his torso, occasionally roaming down to his semi-hard manhood. "Even a poem?" she said with a slight laugh.

"Sure, that would be nice."

"Here's one you might like:"

'Come to me in the silence of the night; Come to me in the speaking silence of a dream; Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright As sunlight on a stream;'

Adam would forever recall it as the happiest moment of his life: nestled in bed with this mystery woman, listening to her melodious voice. Relishing the pleasure she had given him, and the thought of more to come.

When Sarah finished the poem, he said, "A good one. Who wrote it?"

"Christina Rossetti. Do you know her poetry?"

"I'm afraid we didn't get around to it by the sixth grade." After a pause he spoke again. "There's something else."

"What, my love?"

"Do you know my name? Who I am?"

"Yes."

"Then why don't you ever call me by my name? You've never once."

The woman sighed but said nothing. Just when Adam began to think she would not answer, he heard her voice. "You seem as much phantom as real to me, angel. You come to me in the dead of night, and you thrill me as ... as no man ever has. Then you are gone, until once again in the darkness I hear your voice."

"I'm afraid if I began to call you by your name I would become too curious about you. I'd want to know about your childhood; your favorite color. Do you prefer pork or chicken? You would become a real person to me, with likes and dislikes, foibles that we all have. Not the dream lover I so cherish. Does that make sense?"

"I think so. It's the same way with your looks. At first I couldn't stand not seeing you. Now I'm not sure I want to."

"You never will, darling." She took his hand, placed it on her breast, and then slowly moved it down to her sex. "You shall have to be content with how my body feels. Is that not enough?"

"Yes," he smiled as his manhood began to swell. "Somehow that will have to do."

*******

Every few nights for over a month, Adam was summoned to the house on Willow Place. Then, on the morning of his 37th day in New York, the desk clerk at the Algonquin handed Adam an envelope. Within was a rail ticket and a note:

'Enclosed find a one-way ticket on the New York Central's Chicago Limited, leaving Grand Central Depot at eleven this morning. Wishing you a safe journey home.'

Adam walked slowly to the dining room and ate breakfast. So this is how it ends, he pondered. As abruptly and mysteriously as it began. He thought of strategies to get to Sarah; to learn why he was made her lover. More importantly, to continue those nights of passion.

Then he began to realize how great were the powers marshaled against him. They had found him in a remote place and brought him here. They had left nothing to chance, and would now be most vigilant of all. With a deep sigh he returned to his room and packed his valise.

When Adam emerged onto West 44th Street to catch a hansom cab, a burly man with hardened face approached and stood beside him. The man hailed a cab, then pointed to Adam as he said to the driver, "Take this gentleman to Grand Central Depot."

He then turned to Adam, saying in an even voice, "I will be following to make certain you arrive at the Depot and get on the train ... sir."

Two days later, lawyer Davis finally delivered Adam back to Aunt Sophie's tobacco farm. He was scarcely out of sight before the woman began to pepper him with questions.

"Well, my boy, tell all!" she insisted. "You were so vague in your letters. Who on earth wanted you to come to New York? And for heaven's sakes why?"

Adam loved the woman, but she could no more keep a secret than she could fly. Whatever he told her would soon be known throughout the county. "There was a famous artist there, Aunt," he lied. "He wanted a young man with red hair to pose for some paintings of famous figures from Greek mythology. So that's what I was doing."

"And it took a month!" Aunt Sophie said skeptically.

"He was a slow worker," Adam replied. For days the woman pestered him with more questions, but he stuck to the lie. It would make life easier than the truth.

But the truth haunted him. They say you cannot miss what you have never known. Adam, however, had known paradise. Now, lying alone in his cord bed with straw tick mattress, the nights seemed endless. Sometimes he would awaken at midnight, and for a few seconds feel the soft feather bed in the house on Willow Place; sense the fragrance and warmth of the woman with whom he had shared that bed.

What did it all mean, he wondered in his naivety, even now as innocent as a lamb. Why did it have to end?

*******

It was on another ordinary day almost two years later that the letter came. Adam was cutting firewood, bundled up to ward off the chilly March winds. Aunt Sophie asked him to walk to their mailbox and get today's mail.

The letter was postmarked New York. Adam hastily tore it open, the wind ruffling its one sheet on which was written:

We shall be at the Baldwin Inn, Louisville, on the night of March 7th. Sarah

He had again been summoned. Early on March 7th he packed his valise, including his clothes from New York. Soon he was in a rail car, with that woman waiting at the end. Aunt Sophie had swamped him with questions; he deflected each with a terse comment. She grew distraught, but it mattered little to Adam. He had been summoned.

That evening, he entered the lobby of the Baldwin Inn and nervously looked around. A woman in her late twenties, with light brown curls, caught his eye. He walked over to where she was sitting on a divan. She glanced up at him, then away, with no sign of recognition. Adam studied her face. No, he decided, it is not her. I know every curve and feature of Sarah's face. That is not her.

He approached the desk clerk. "Uh, I don't suppose any of your guests have left a message for me, have they?"

"Name?"

"Adam Wylie."

Without a word the man handed him a sealed letter. He anxiously tore it open, reading, 'North end of Claxton Park, seven-thirty tomorrow morning.'

Adam took a room in a cheap inn nearby. The sun had just risen the next morning, a white globe in the early morning fog, when he entered Claxton Park and began to walk to its north end on a gravel walkway.

He saw a gentleman standing along the pathway, gazing off into the distance. As he drew near, the man looked over his shoulder and met Adam's glance. With a slight start, he recognized Norris. The older man gave him a terse nod, then turned away. His heart beating faster than ever, Adam continued on.

He saw the woman first as a silhouette in the fog. As in slow motion he neared her, now seeing a wide brimmed felt hat, decorated with lace and feathers. She was wearing an ornate wool dress, ankle length, which swelled out from the many petticoats beneath. Over the dress was a rich velvet cape trimmed in fur.