Destiny

"Actually," John grinned, "my decision on what to have for dinner was pretty quick." John raised his eyebrows. "And," he said with some satisfaction, "I could have decided to have something else."

"You could have," said Helen, "but only in a different time or place. The brain configuration you had when the question of what to have to dinner came up dictated the decision you made. Your brain was already set up to pick what I picked. The only way you could change that is if something changed the chemical reactions in your brain. And that something would have to be external. You have no way of changing chemical reactions in your brain within yourself; it has to come from an external stimulus. Maybe someone bumps you while you're making the decision, or you see the reflection of a red traffic light in a window while you're deciding. There are any number of things that can change what you decide, by indirectly supplying signals to your brain, but you can't do it without those signals. Your decision is based on chemical reactions that will happen a certain way unless interrupted by other chemical reactions, and those other reactions come from nerves of some sort. That's your only link to the outside world. You can't make chemical reactions change by yourself."

"So," John started slowly, "your claim is we are all automatons, little robots with no control over ourselves?"

Helen gave a wan smile. "In a nutshell," Helen said, "yes."

They sat silently for a while as John thought about what Helen had just said. "I don't control my own actions?" he said.

"Nope," Helen answered. "You think you do, though, and that's important."

"Why?" John asked.

"Because people who realize they have no control end up doing bad things, justifying it by saying they have no control. It depends on what sort of person you want to be. If you want to be a good person, you'll pretend you are making all your own decisions. When it comes down to it, though, we don't make the story, we merely find out what has already been written."

John mulled that over. "So," he said, with a slight smile as he leaned over, "this is not a decision I made?" He kissed her softly.

Helen felt his lips, so soft, so inviting. How could such a strong man be so gentle? He touched her lips just barely enough to be felt, but it made her tingle, not just her lips but elsewhere in her body. In fact, all the way down to her pussy.

John slowly ended the delicious kiss and looked into Helen's eyes. "It felt like I made that decision," he said.

Helen breathed out slowly. "Yes," she said, "it feels like it, but it's nothing more than what some people call fate or destiny. That's all it is. Given the same situation, you would do the same thing." She looked into his eyes. "I could use some more of that, please."

John smiled and leaned in for another kiss. This time, Helen was more prepared. She kept her lips soft and resisted the urge to press harder. In times of extreme passion, she knew more force would be acceptable, maybe even encouraged, but for now, soft was the way to go.

They played with each other, gently touching each other's lips, tongue, face,neck, and arms. Light touches everywhere, with lips, fingers, or hands, with sensations coming from more than what was touched. Helen gently licked John's lips and got an appreciative moan. John gently caressed Helen's neck with his fingertips and was rewarded with a moan himself. He rubbed his finger over her ear lobe, so softly it could barely be called a touch, but Helen felt it to her toes. She caressed his hair and he felt shivers in his cock.

John eventually pulled away, blowing out some air from his lungs. "My goodness, but that was good. Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

Helen giggled. "In college," she said.

"Some jock taught you that?" John asked, raising an eyebrow.

Helen laughed. "Oh, heavens no," she exclaimed, "they never knew anything. No, I found out about this from my professor."

John looked askance at her. "You screwed your professor?"

Helen smiled. "No, I learned it in class."

"Okay," John said, "this is getting a bit confusing. What I'm taking away from this is you had sex in a classroom with someone while your professor watched and instructed. Am I getting this right?"

Helen laughed so much her sides ached. "Oh, my, John, you do have an imagination. No, what I mean is I learned about nerves in one of my classes. It's all chemical reactions, of course, but nerves respond differently depending on how much force is used to activate them. Here, let me show you." She took John's hand and gently rubbed the back of it. "This," she said, while she stroked his hand, "is about hard enough to detect that there is a certain amount of force behind the touch. You and I can both feel enough force to get some idea of how hard I'm touching." Then she lightened the touch. "And this is so light that the nerve knows it's being touched, but it can't really figure out how hard. The nerves don't give a steady signal to the brain, but rather a tingling sensation. One of the problems with sensual touching is that you never know what your partner is feeling, so you have to rely on what you're feeling. Did you notice how the character of the touch is different between the two?" She rubbed, then skimmed, the back of his hand. "The touch feels one way, and it feels like a light touch, but the caress feels quite different, sort of tingling and, well, pleasant. You don't have many nerve endings in the back of your hand, but there are other places where you have more. And the way I figure out what feels good to you is by pressing no harder than what it takes to feel good to me."

John had to admit she was right. The gentle caress of his hand did feel different. And nice.

Helen continued. "The idea is to barely touch, but touch just hard enough so that it still feels good. You touch so softly that any harder and it would feel like an ordinary touch. Anything less than that tingles. So if I press my lips to yours," Helen said as she leaned over and touched John's lips with hers, "I try to press as hard as I can without losing the tingle. And it feels like this." She slowly rubbed her lips against his, with a sublimely light touch.

John had to groan at this demonstration. Helen was right on the mark. What she was doing was making him tingle. He closed his eyes to concentrate on the feeling. Helen did the same.

She pulled back and looked at him with a smile. "Feels good, doesn't it?" she said. "Too hard and the nerves send a signal that you're being touched. A bit lighter and the nerves send a signal that you're being seduced. And it all works because nerves are basically the same from person to person. Some people have more nerve endings than others, some are more sensitive than others, but nerves basically detect a touch at the same level of pressure. Everybody's nerves use the same design and have similar responses. So what feels good to me feels good to you. If I'm doing it right, I mean."

"Oh, you're doing it right," John admitted. "And now that I know there is science behind it, it feels even better."

Helen laughed. "Science can be fun, after all." She cocked her head and said, "Maybe I should tell my students about this."

John held up his hands. "I don't think that's a good idea. Teenagers are controlled entirely too much by hormones. If they found out what to do, they'd probably be having sex in the parking lot. Do you have any idea what problems that would cause with traffic?"

Helen grinned. "I guess you're right. They should remain as ignorant as possible, at least about this. We certainly don't want them having any fun, do we?"

"Definitely not," John insisted. "Adults, on the other hand..." He leaned in a gave Helen another kiss, long and caressing, as he gently touched the lobes of her ears.

When he finally pulled back, Helen breathed out slowly and said, "Yes, adults are entitled to whatever they want. No question."

Helen looked at him and couldn't help noticing that his cock was straining at his pants. She wanted to rub him a bit, but wasn't sure he was ready for that. He probably wanted it, she thought, but maybe this was a bit too rushed. She admitted to herself that she would really like to have that cock in her pussy, but she was worried it would end up badly. Best to let the line out before you set the hook, she thought.

Helen cleared her throat. "Hmm, it seems that we have forgotten about that coffee. Do you still want it?"

John cleared his throat as well. "Yes, actually I do." He was uncomfortable with his erection demanding to be let free and wanted some time to wind down. A cup of coffee would be just the thing.

Helen got up and reheated the coffee. She brought him the cup, plus a sugar bowl and a creamer. He tossed a spoonful of sugar into his cup, then a bit of cream. Helen did the same.

They drank in silence for a while, then Helen decided to try to break down some barriers. "Can you tell me about what made you leave the force?" she asked.

"Is it important to you?" John asked.

"Actually," Helen said, "it is. I want to know more about you. I want to understand how you got to where you are. Please?"

John shrugged, but there was tension in his face. "Not much to tell, really. I was on duty when a call came in. A hostage situation at the school where my wife taught. My training kicked in so I didn't feel the sort of panic you might feel when someone in your family might be at risk." John stared off into the distance now, remembering the event in all too much clarity. "I pulled into the school and the principal came running out to meet me. He told me there was a kid who had a gun on one of the teachers. The kid seemed incoherent, the principal told me, yelling things, saying his life was ruined. The kid blamed the teacher for some reason and was threatening to kill her. The principal told me what room they were in. I was in full assault mode now, not even flinching when I realized that the room the teacher and the kid were in was the room where my wife taught."

"Oh, my God, John," Helen exclaimed. She looked down at her hands, trying to process what John had just told her.

John continued, still staring at nothing. "I peered into the room and saw my wife with a gun to her head. The kid was screaming about how miserable he was, how she was responsible for his misery. He was clearly out of his mind at this point. I aimed my gun at him while I slowly entered the room. He noticed me, although not immediately. I could see that my wife had soiled herself, not an uncommon reaction to extreme stress. And I could see that the kid was insane. I didn't know if it was drugs or not, but the kid was completely out of control. I slowly moved toward them, my gun never moving away from the kid's chest. I tried talking to him, but when he looked at me, all I could see is hatred and rage. I tried to reason with him, but it was clear there was no reasoning with someone so deranged. I tried to stall him, knowing that a hostage negotiator was on his way, but it didn't work. I looked in his eyes and saw the look, the one we were told about. You can look at someone crazy like that and you know when they have made a decision. I could see is his eyes that he was going to shoot, so I shot first."

John stopped talking and simply stared at the wall. His mouth moved, but no words came out. "Oh, John, I am so sorry," Helen said, shaking her head. Her shock continued to assault her.

"There was nothing else to do," John said, in a pleading sort of way. "I did what I could, did what I had to do, did what I was trained to do. There was no other choice." John paused. "But I wasn't fast enough. The kid's gun went off the same time mine did. I killed him, Helen. I killed the kid who killed my wife. I still see it happening over and over again. I still wonder what I could have done differently. Maybe if I hadn't confronted him, it would have worked out okay. Maybe I should have waited for the negotiator to arrive. Maybe, maybe, maybe."

Helen touched John's hand and noticed it shaking. "It doesn't seem like there was much you could do, John. The kid made his own decisions and you reacted."

John glared at her. "I thought you said there was no free will. The kid was destined to do what he did, wasn't he?"

Helen moved back. "Well, yes, in fact, he was. And your reaction was according to your training. You and he did exactly what you were intended to do. You couldn't have done differently, and neither could he. It wasn't your fault, John. It wasn't your fault." She looked at him with pleading eyes, rapidly filling with tears.

"Why did this kid feel your wife ruined his life?" Helen asked.

John's throat tightened. "Because he was our son." John looked at Helen with desperate eyes. "I killed my own son." And John started to cry.

"Oh my God, John," Helen cried as she cradled John's head, his sobs shaking her body along with his. She gently rocked him back and forth, letting his anguish fall to the ground as tears. She rubbed his back and hugged him, riding the waves of indescribable pain along with him, holding him, cradling him, trying to protect him from what he could not be protected from.

"John," she whispered as he continued to sob in her arms, "the story is already written. We can't change it. All we can do is find out what it is. I am so sorry, John, so very sorry."

They stayed that way for quite some time, John shedding tears and Helen frustrated that her attempts to comfort him seemed so useless. Eventually, though, John's tears stopped. He wiped his eyes and seemed embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," John said, his throat still so tight speaking was difficult. "I hadn't thought about that day in any detail for a long time. I guess all the pain just built up. I'm better now." John wiped his eyes again.

Helen looked at him with concern. "John," she started, "you can't blame yourself, or anyone else, for that matter. Everything we do is based on who we are at the moment. We can't help doing what we do. It's all part of the programming, and we have no choice but to obey." Helen brushed John's hair back off his forehead. "One of the most important parts of recognizing there is no free will is you can forgive others because you know they had no choice." Helen paused. "And you can forgive yourself for the same reason."

John looked down at his hands and nodded. "I'm not so sure about this 'no free will' thing, but I guess I can agree that however our brains are wired drives what we do." He turned his head to look at Helen. "I still feel we make decisions, but maybe those decisions are encouraged in a particular direction."

Helen decided not to push the point. She had given this a lot of thought and used the belief to limit her own anguish. Still, she was once where John is now, doubting the absence of free will. Accepting that she didn't really make decisions, but acting like she did, helped her get through the more significant challenges in life.

Helen slowly pushed John back into the couch and gently massaged his head and temples. He started to protest, but she shushed him and continued with the massage. John finally relaxed and closed his eyes. She caressed his face and ran a finger along his strong jaw. Then she bent over to kiss him, a soft kiss that gracefully slid along his lips. Her tongue played with his lips, her fingers softly stimulated his face.

John, for his part, responded in kind, kissing her back with some urgency. He cupped her face and kissed her eyelids, all the while rubbing her ears and throat. One hand dropped down and pulled her closer to him, his passion rising. Helen slid her hand down, softly rubbing the muscles of his chest. She moved her hand farther down to his cock and found a hard member waiting for her.

She softly rubbed his cock through his pants and heard him moan. She kissed his lips, a gentle slide of skin against skin, and fondled his cock just hard enough to be felt. John let out a moan. Helen continued doing this, feeling John's passion rise.

She got off the couch and knelt before him, pulling at his belt. John reached down to stop her, but he didn't put much effort into it. "I want to do this, John," Helen said. "Please let me." John's hand fell to his side.

Helen loosened John's belt and slowly pulled down his zipper. She peeled his pants off his hips, then pulled them down. John lifted himself up to give Helen some room and she slid the pants off his legs and let them drop to the floor. Then she reached for his underwear, lifting the elastic band away from his body to let his cock spring free. She gave his cock a gentle touch before pulling his underwear down his legs to join his pants.

She settled between his legs and softly held his erect member in her hand. Then, slowly leaning forward, she lightly touched the glans of his cock. John moaned in delight. She stroked his cock, making sure to keep a light touch. She was pretty sure the touch was right because it felt good to her and John kept moaning. She brushed the shaft from bottom to top, spending extra time at his frenulum, circling that sensitive spot with the tip of her thumb, keeping the pressure light enough that she felt her own thumb tingle in just the right way. She persisted and felt his cock get harder. She noticed some precum at his tip and used it as lubrication while she circled his head with her finger.

With John moaning and starting to shove his hips forward, Helen leaned over and put her mouth over the head of his cock, keeping the same pressure she used with her fingers. John gasped as the sensations flooded his groin. Helen gently sucked on his head, twirling her tongue around his glans. John's moans and grunts continued as Helen stroked his shaft and softly licked his cock. Sometimes she would lick from his balls to his head, but mostly she put only his head into her mouth and sucked, proud that she could make him feel so good.

She found that he was most sensitive to the licking and sucking of his glans, so that's what she concentrated on. After a while, her jaw started to get tired, so she changed to softly rubbing his glans and frenulum with her hands, adding plenty of saliva to keep the area lubricated. She knew that if her skin was sticking to his, there wasn't enough lubrication and the sensations he would be getting wouldn't be entirely pleasant.

When her jaw had relaxed enough, she bent over again and continued sucking him. She felt him tense. "I'm going to come," John said, his tension increasing with every slurp she gave him.

"Come for me, baby," Helen said, as she put his head in her mouth and sucked some more.

John's tension increased, his muscles tightening in pleasure, and he roared as he exploded into Helen's mouth. She sucked harder now, drawing out all the pleasure from his cock she could, letting the semen splash on the back of her throat. She swallowed what she could, not bothered by the salty taste. As she sucked and stroked, John slowly came back down, but Helen kept rubbing him, a bit lighter now.

John eventually rested back in the couch, entirely spent. "My God, Helen," John gasped, "I have never, in my life, felt anything so good. Never."

Helen smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"I'm sorry I came so soon," John said.

"I figured it had been a while for you, so I was expecting it," Helen said. "I thought maybe we could get this first one out of the way so the next one will be better."

"Next one?" John asked.

"Of course," Helen said with a smile. "You didn't think I was going to let you out of here before you did something for me, did you?"

John smiled back. "Well, I was hoping not, but I didn't want to be presumptuous."