Canon Ch. 09

She stood on the veranda and watched him drive away, then turned and walked into the house.

She looked around at the kitchen. "I like him, Geoffie," she said, to no one. "I still miss you. But I like him."

She smiled and went to have a steam.

---

That night, Jeff dreamed of Amy again.

It was not one of the eerily vivid, hyper-realistic dreams that Geoff had given them; it was an ordinary dream, though intense and vivid enough in its own right.

He was fucking her, in the big four-poster bed in her bedroom; and their eyes were locked together, as they had been so often that day.

He looked into her soul; both sides of her soul, the dark and the light, through her strange eyes - and he felt her looking into his, seeing everything he was, everything he wanted, everything he felt.

But this was no sweet and gentle fuck. They were sweating, breathing hard, working at it, pumping their hips in unison; Amy was holding her knees back and wide apart, grunting with the effort of fucking back at him as he drove his cock into her smooth, glistening hole, pounding her, stabbing his bone into her hot, grasping pussy feverishly. She looked up at him with a savage expression, teeth bared and eyes burning as they bored into his own.

There were no small sounds of contentment and intimacy; there were animal grunts and growls of savage need, of primal hunger. They were fighting as much as making love, struggling, wrestling, working to become one. They pulled at each other, grimacing with the effort, with their love, their discovery of each other as linked souls.

They could look down to see their wet, plunging connection, his curving cock sliding in and out of her bald, quivering pussy, then up again at each other's faces, seeing the anguish and the ecstasy they shared, both at once.

Jeff sensed no foreign memories that he did not recognize; no undercurrents of old hurts and regrets that he did not know. Only he was with Amy this time, and this struggle was his alone.

He fought to get closer, to get inside her body and behind her eyes. She fought to help him. They worked harder and harder, pounding together, hammering home their need, driving for its fulfillment, her pussy opening to his plunging cock, his cock drilling into her spasming pussy. They shuddered and twisted, working for it, closer, closer, almost there, clinging to each other, consumed with their need, their hunger for each other....

---

And he woke up.

Trembling, damp with sweat, wide awake, and with an enormous, aching hard-on, Jeff lay in his bed and stared into the darkness. What the Hell....

And his cellphone rang. He groped for it on the bedside table, fumbled with it, flipped it open.

"H-hello?"

"Did you just have the same dream I did?"

Amy's voice was as unsteady and breathless as his own.

He didn't bother to ask for details. "Yes," he said.

"Get your ass over here."

And she hung up.

---

Twenty minutes later, he was running up the steps of the old house; he had parked in the front, no time to drive around to the garage.

The front door flew open, and she flew into his arms; and as if his mind were not already reeling, she was mother-naked.

He had never seen anything so beautiful and exciting - but her frantic eagerness worried him. This could be traumatic for her, he knew.

"Amy..." he said, with a note of rebuke in his voice.

"I know," she quavered. "I don't care." She was already unbuttoning his shirt, her lips at his throat, standing there on the front steps. Her hands were trembling, her breath coming in quick, jerky gasps. He pulled her to him, held her, and tried to calm her down.

"Amy - we don't even know each other..."

She pulled away and looked up at him, her eyes blazing just as fiercely as they had in his dream moments before. "Yes, we do. You know we do," she hissed. "Come on. Hurry." She tugged at him urgently and pulled him into the house.

And down the hall into the bedroom. She all but tore his clothes off, and he let her. In less than a full minute, they were in the big four-poster bed, naked.

Amy was frantic, desperate, shaking with fear and need - and sorrow. Jeff saw the tears starting from her eyes even as she reached for him.

Her pulled her to his chest and cradled her head in his hand, kissing her in front of her ear. He had no idea that Geoff had held and kissed her in exactly that same way - but he felt her shiver as she began to weep.

She pounded his chest with a small fist, her mind fragmented, not understanding her own emotions. She cried out wordlessly, keening and whimpering like a child.

He tried to hold her still as she struggled, but she fought him. He spied the CD player; and he knew what was on it.

"I know what we need," he murmured into her storm - and he pushed the Play button.

He felt her calming at once. The deep, slow notes of the basses soothed her nerves and settled her mind; as the violins began to pick up the theme, he felt her relax against him, her struggles subsiding, her whimpers turning into murmurs of inarticulate affection - mixed with confusion and - something else.

"That's better," he whispered. "That's better. Nice and easy. We have all the time in the world, Amy."

She snuggled into his arms and nodded, but said nothing. She was still shivering.

As the music played, he spoke quietly. "I know what you're feeling, Amy," he said.

She looked up at him, her cheek against his chest; unlike Geoff's, it was smooth - but it was just as warm. "You do?"

He nodded and cuddled her. "You want me. And you want to love me. You want to love and be loved again, more than anything. And you know it's risky to rush into it, but you want it so much you don't care."

She nodded against his chest, slowly. "Yes," she whispered.

"You're afraid - you know that you really don't know me. You've only been with Geoff, and you're unsure about what to do. You don't know if it'll really be as good as it is in the dreams."

She nodded again. He let the music soothe her a little more, and then he breathed into her ear: "And you feel like you're betraying him."

She shivered, and he felt the wetness on his chest as she nodded again.

"I'm so mixed up," she said, weeping. "I miss him so much, and you're so much like him - but you're not like him - and - and I DON'T know you - but I do - and I love what's different about you - and I don't know how I can forget him, or if I can love you if I don't - and - and - Oh, God, Jeff, I don't know what to do...."

He held her as she wept, and kissed her head - again, just like Geoff did.

Some little things about him were the same; but at that moment, she realized the thing that really mattered, the thing that drew her to him and that she treasured. It was that he cared more about her than about himself.

Any other man would be fucking her now. But he wanted to comfort her and take her fear and guilt away. That, to him, was more important.

She knew that she would soon feel the same way about him - if I don't already, she thought.

Jeff felt her relax against him, felt her breathing slow and grow less agitated.

Amy nuzzled his chest, and thought, this is the same too. I feel safe, and warm, and loved....

That was it; that was the one thing that was the same. And, she realized, it was no betrayal. It was what her Geoffie had wanted for her.

"I trust you, Jeff," she whispered. "I really do."

He squeezed her and said nothing, and they held each other till the music ended.

He stroked her smooth back in the silence, and she sighed and snuggled close. "You're not going to make love to me tonight, are you?" she murmured.

"No," he whispered. "Let's take a little more time." He looked down at her and smiled wryly in the dim light - a smile that she knew. "I'd like to feel like I have to work at it, Amy."

She giggled and caressed his chest. "I still want to, though."

"Let's compromise," he said, and pulled her closer.

Their tongues were soon wrestling, their hands exploring each other's bodies, pressed together and moving subtly, nothing between them.

They were learning the truth of their dreams; her pussy was as soft and smooth, his cock as large and curved, as they had seen and touched in the night. They kissed and stroked each other, bare legs moving, lazily exploring each other in a strange mix of familiarity and shyness, uncertainty and security.

She touched his cock. "So big..." she breathed. His dickhead flared out widely at the rim, just as she remembered. She knew how it would feel, sliding in and out of her pussy...

He stroked and squeezed her breasts, so perfect... Not enormous, but full and lovely. He kissed a tender nipple, then touched it with his tongue - and she shivered.

His hand found her center, and she sighed and opened her thighs to him. Her mound was smooth and plump, her slit oozing moisture; when he slipped one finger in, she moaned and opened her legs wider.

He sucked her nipples as he explored her hole; it was fever-hot and liquid, and she began to work her hips at him subtly. She found his cock with her soft, small hand, and began to pump it rhythmically....

He moaned, and his own hips began to move.

"Changing your mind?" she breathed, as her thumb slid round and round the slippery tip of his cock.

"M-maybe..." He was shivering a bit himself at the feel of her pretty hand.

"Nothing about this has been normal," she whispered. "Make love to me, Jeff. We can get to know each other later." She rolled onto him and ground her wet pussy lips against his stiff, hot shaft. "It's not like we haven't done it before..."

He groaned and rolled his hips upward, and Amy murmured, "Yes..."

She moved herself over him and rotated her hips subtly, his dickhead pressing into her wet lips. As she lowered herself onto him, taking his bare, hard cock into her wet, trembling pussy, she lowered her face to his and kissed him deeply.

"I don't know you yet," she whispered into his mouth, "but I love you."

His arms went around her as he felt his cock slowly sliding between and opening her smooth, slick membranes. "I love you, too, sweet Amy," he gasped. "I don't understand what's h-happening, but I know that." He began to pump upward, and his cock began to stir and work in her grasping pussy.

"For sure," she whispered back.

They cling to each other and fucked, slowly, gently, warmly - but growing slowly more heated, more urgent.

"So good," Jeff grunted as he rolled her onto her back.

"Oh, yes - fuck me - fuck me hard..." Her knees drew up and wide, and she opened herself to his soft assault; and he began to pump her harder, all the way in and all the way out, deep, deep and fast, growing faster....

"So beautiful," he gasped. "You're so beautiful - so perfect - pretty bare feet..."

She giggled as he fucked her, and he smiled down at her without losing the rhythm. "What?"

"Later. Fuck me harder, Jeff. Fuck me like you want it to hurt...."

He grabbed her knees and pressed them down into the mattress, holding her down and wide open. Then he began to slam his hips into hers, hammering her hard, pounding her pussy with his cock, sliding it in and out.

Amy felt helpless and vulnerable, and overwhelmed by the size and shape of his stiff cock. That flaring rim slid up and down in her sensitive pussy, stimulating her in ways she had never felt before.

For Jeff's part, the feel of Amy's slick pussy-grip on his bare, swollen head was delicious, exciting, maddening. It had been a long time for him.

He rose on his hands, and they were playing out the dream; eyes burning and locked together, aching to become one.

They slowly grew more and more synchronized, working together, fighting their way to whatever it was that lay ahead. She tugged at him urgently, humping up at him, struggling against his restraining hands, grunting with effort as she fucked him. Jeff was growling, just as in the dream - lost in her blazing eyes and her squeezing pussy, driving into her like a sledgehammer, sawing her pussy with his cock and grimacing at the sensation.

He fell onto her and they clung to each other as they fucked; she bit his ear and he grabbed her bare ass, and they spoke in inarticulate moans and hisses as they worked together, their bodies gleaming with sweat and pressed together.

Jeff was fighting to hold back his load, determined to make Amy cum before he let it go; he rose to his knees and looked down at her. She was biting her lip and looking up at him desperately, and he realized they were both struggling to keep from cumming.

"Let it go, baby," he groaned. "Let it go and I'll be right behind you...."

And he began to scrub her swollen, slippery clit with his thumb.

Amy cried out and writhed and shivered, and in a matter of seconds was jerking and shuddering uncontrollably under him as her liquid hole grasped and spasmed on his bursting cock.

He fell against her again and hugged her close as he filled her, his cum jetting from his cock like liquid bullets. She hung onto him and worked her cunt on him, milking his cock, squeezing and sliding her pussy tube on it as he shook and shot, over and over and over.

They lay together afterward, gasping, shivering, holding each other as the storm passed; and when they were breathing easily again, they pulled back and looked at each other.

Ice blue and earthy brown - open and secretive, sweet and smoky - her eyes captivated him more than ever. They spoke to him of love and passion and even devotion - and uncertainty, too.

For Amy's part, she no longer saw Geoff when she looked at him; she saw Jeff, as he was, his own man. She smiled.

He smiled too. "I guess dreams do come true," he said. She laughed, tiredly, and pulled him down on top of her again. In a moment, their tongues were too busy to speak further.

And a short time after that, they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms as the Canon played softly beside them.

Jeff did not hum to her. That, he knew, belonged to someone else.

---