Strawberry Creme Brulee

A spark of indignation swelled within me. I was not a little nerd anymore and no would-be Neanderthal was going to scare me away. "What's the big deal?" I asked with a shrug. "It's not like we were doing anything here to be jealous about."

"You don't understand!" Tara insisted.

"I'll just say 'hello' and excuse myself. It'll be ok."

"No," Tara pleaded, her eyes wide. "It won't."

By that point, it didn't much matter; any opportunity to flee was long gone. I got up to meet Mike and was about to extend my hand when he growled, "What the hell are you doing moving in on my girl?"

"Nothing," I said in a deliberate tone, returning my hand to my side. "I'm not moving in on anyone's girl."

"Really?" Mike snarled. "What are you doing then?"

"We're just old high school chums chatting a bit. That's all."

"Another old friend eh?" Mike scoffed as he turned to Tara. "I suppose you've fucked this one too. You're such a whore."

I felt my body tense. "Excuse me!"

"You get the fuck out of here," Mike snarled. He moved to hover over Tara. "And you get up to our room."

I slid into the narrow space between them. "Imightget the fuck out of here. But only afteryou apologize to thelady."

I didn't imagine Mike could drop his brow any farther, but he managed. "You better get your ass out of here before I kick it!" He took a step backward, assuming what was intended to be a menacing stance.

"Go ahead and kick it then," I countered, adopting a similar posture. "When you're done and the cops haul your ass off, maybe she'll pick up what's left ofme, take me toyourroom and I will get to fuckher." I saw his eyes narrow and his blood begin to boil before I tossed a deliberate, "Again!" onto his fire.

Mike tensed. Tara gasped. I knew what was coming and, to my own astonishment, I welcomed it. When his attack came, I sidestepped and replied directly into the force of his momentum.

I only had one hundred and eighty pounds at my disposal, but one hundred and seventy-five of them were behind this punch. It connected square in the center of Mike's mug. His nose shattered. His head popped back. Two bones in my hand snapped. I heard a chair fall behind me as Tara sprang to her feet. And Mike dropped like a rock.

As the man recovered to his knees, I surprised myself as I evaluated the situation in utter calmness and confidence. Back in high school I would have been terrified, but years of fighting infernos now made fighting bullies seem effortless.

Mike looked up. Blood dripped from his ruptured snout. I saw plenty of anger in his eyes, but I saw something else too. I had seen it before often on the job; fear. He grunted and started to stand.

I shifted to lead with my left. "If you get up without apologizing, you're going right back down."

Mike paused. I observed the steady stream of crimson that issued from his nose fall upon his still-clenched fist. He glanced down as the droplets splattered against his flesh. Then I noticed the fingers in his hand relax. That's when I knew he was done. A second later, so did he. "Alright, I'm sorry," he offered without looking up.

I took a single step backward. "That's better."

Mike stood with due caution and then retreated a few paces. I didn't move, expecting at least some token display of masculine bravado. Instead he looked past me at Tara and grumbled, "Your bags'll be in the hall." With that he brought a palm to cup his dripping nose and walked away.

As Mike departed, I took a deep breath. I noticed my own sweat, and the stare of the waitress returning with my drink. The throbbing in the collapsed bones of my hand finally registered in my brain. I turned to Tara, trying to think what I should say.

I needn't have worried; I didn't need to say anything. The instant our gazes met, the woman threw her arms around my neck and locked her lips to mine. Her mouth caressed, then explored my own. I felt her tongue forcefully invade the union and glance off my teeth. I replied in kind. My hand quit hurting. Any thoughts of bystanders vanished. My old friend below once again began to stir.

Tara finally released me, moving back just a bit to look into my eyes. "That was the absolute sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me." Then shifted her head to look at me a bit sideways. A wicked smile graced her lips. "Well, maybe the second sweetest."

At a loss for words or action, I replied simply, "Now what?"

"Well," Tara began, "I think you owe me a ride."

"What?"

"Mike and I came in his car, so I'm pretty sure I don't have a ride home. If I remember right, I gave you a lift home once, so I think you owe me one."

"To where?" I queried. "Dallas?"

Tara tilted her head as her smile vanished. "No. Cheyenne."

* * * *

Part Three: Seven Miles Later

We went to my room first. Wondering what divine providence had prevented me from earlier exercising a similar option, I scribbled a simple note for my friends:

Guys,

Took a tumble on the slopes and injured my hand.

Hurts as I write, hope you can read this ok.

Not sure how bad it is, but I'm headed home.

Will visit emergency room when I get back to Denver.

See you Monday.

Jason

Mike may have been a jerk, but at least he was an honest jerk. Tara's bags were sitting in the corridor outside of her room just as he had said they would be. I picked them up without thinking and my hand squealed in protest. Doing my best to conceal my discomfort, I switched hands so that my left bore the heavier burden. Using only two fingers of my right hand, I grabbed the second bag and we headed for my car.

During the drive, our chatter was all small talk until we reached the interstate. There, free of the twisty mountain roads, I ventured a more serious question. "Why do you go out with jerks like Mike anyway?"

"I've wondered that myself many times," Tara said. "I never seem to attract any other type. Sometimes I think I should just get a vibrator or become a lesbian."

"Surely they can't all have been that bad. What about Frank?"

"Frank who? Surely you don't mean Frank Morton? He was the worst. You remember that car I picked you up in?"

"Yes."

"That bastard made me blow him every time I wanted to use it. I still can't believe I did that." She looked away and out the window. "But no one else ever seemed interested in me. I figured he was the best I could do."

"No one else was interested in you?" I stammered. "Hell,everyonewas interested in you."

"Oh really?" Tara challenged snapping her face back to me. "And you? If you were so interested, why did you ignore me after that day? Afterour day?"

"Ignore you?" I countered. "Next time I saw you, you were with Frank again. He was hanging all over you. I figured I was just some minor amusement."

"Frank?" Tara replied in a near whimper. "He may have been hanging on me, but I wasn't hanging on him! My God, I wasso ready to dump Frank,but you didn't even give me so much as a smile. "

I shrugged. "I guess I just wasn't ready to believe anyone as pretty as you could ever be attracted to me."

Tara's brow dropped. "Hello? Your first clue was I took you someplace and fucked you. Did you really need a second clue?"

"Maybe," I said. "I guess I never understood why you picked me up that day. I mean, it was out of the blue. I didn't even think you knew my name. So what was it? Where you mad at Frank; did you cheat on him out of spite? Sounds more like I was a revenge fuck than a real attraction."

Tara's scowl melted as she turned her gaze to the floorboard. "I don't know, maybe it did start that way." Her eyes were bright, wide, and moist as she turned back to face me. "But it sure didn't end that way. You were different. I could tell."

"How?" I demanded. "And when? At what point did I jump from being a vengeance prop to boyfriend material?"

"I guess it was when you licked my pussy."

"Right," I began with a snort. "And I was the first one to do that? Or the last?"

"No," Tara whispered. "Lots of guys would have licked my pussy for a chance to fuck me. I suppose more than I'd like to admit. But you licked meafterward; after you were already spent. That wasn't so you could fuck me later. That was just for me and I knew it. No one else ever did anything just for me."

"You practically ordered me to do that."

"Yes," Tara admitted. "But not like I had a gun to your head. You didn't have to do anything you didn't want to. Tell me you didn't do it just to make me happy?"

"Well," I sighed. "Maybe I did at that."

Tara smiled. "What more could a girl want than that? And after that, when you didn't spread it all over school what we did, that's when I thought maybe I'd found someone that wanted me as something besides a trophy."

"Ok," I muttered. "But you might have told me how you felt,"

"What?" Tara snapped. "Who said, 'I'd fuck you again if we had the time?' Who said that? How about, 'Maybe I can pick you up again sometime?' Who said that? How did you readminor fucking amusement in any of that? How much of a invitation did you need?" She sniffed a bit, and looked out her window again.

I found one of those places meant for attaching snow chains and parked. "I'm sorry," I offered. "I was such an idiot"

Tara snapped her gaze back to me. "Yes, you were! No one ever loved me like Ithought you did." Her eyes moistened and a tear ran down her cheek. "And no one ever hurt me like you did either."

"I was just a boy," I offered as a meager defense. "Just a stupid boy. I didn't know!"

"You know how many nights that stupid boy left a stupid girl to cry herself to sleep after she realized he didn't want her?"

"I didn't know," I repeated, "I did want you. I just didn't know."

"More like you just didn't try," Tara said. "If you really wanted me, you'd have tried." I didn't know how to respond, but she spared me the trouble. "It's been a terribly long day. Would you mind if I took a nap?"

"No," I replied still trying to analyze all that had just been said. "It has been a long day. Please do."

Tara reclined her seat and turned to rest on her side, facing away from me. Soon she was fast asleep, though I hoped she hadn't cried herself to that state.

I drove through the night in silence, tears escaping at irregular intervals from my always-moist eyes. There was something dreadfully wrong with getting but seven years of loneliness for breaking a heart as immense as hers, even if I hadn't known. I deserved a life sentence, without parole.

* * * *

Part Four: Seven Hours Later

My right hand gave Tara's shoulder a gentle shake as we reached the state line. "We're in Wyoming," I whispered. "I don't know where to go from here."

My companion blinked herself back to consciousness, then began to provide directions. "Take the Lincoln exit. Then turn left until you go under the railway bridge, then left again."

I followed her instructions as we proceeded through the modest-sized town.

"Ok, right at the stop sign," Tara continued. "Then next right into the parking lot. Last building on the left; number three-twelve."

I parked the car and dutifully carried her bags up the two flights of stairs, my hand aching as I went. I hoped she'd say something, but she followed me in absolute silence. Upon reaching the door, I set her bags on the balcony and stood to one side.

I was still hoping for any indication, any word, regarding her desires; but Tara walked up without even a glance, unlocked the door and pulled each of her bags just inside.

Only then did the woman turn to me. "Thank you for the ride. And thank you for defending my honor. That was sweet." Then she just stood there.

Ok, I thought,you were a stupid boy once, don't be a stupid man now. With a single deep breath, I jumped to my knees. "Have absolutely no doubt in your mind," I began, "that you are, and will always be,the goddess to me and I want nothing else but to worship you in any manner you see fit for as long as you will have me." I hoped I hadn't piled it on too thick, but I was sure this was not the time for subtlety.

Tara bit her lip and looked down at me for just a moment, before turning and disappearing without a word.

I looked around. At once the haunting strangeness of the situation came home. There I was, in an unfamiliar town, in the wee hours of a late winter morning, on my knees on the third floor balcony of a second-rate apartment; outside the door of a woman I had never expected to see again when I had awoken the previous morning. Yet, I could think of no place else in the world I would rather have been.

From inside her apartment, Tara beckoned. "What are you doing still sitting outside? How can you worship your goddess from there? Get your ass into her temple.Now!"

I jumped up and sprang inside, closing the door behind me. It was completely dark except for a few small candles. I saw her, completely disrobed, her flesh colored orange by the soft glow.

Tara's voice shifted to a soft tone. "I don't want to spoil the moment later, so tell me now, are you safe?"

"What?" I replied, sincerely confused.

"Do we need a condom?"

"Oh," I muttered, surprised by her candor, but thrilled by the implication. I thought for a moment, then answered with complete honesty, "I've always used one before, except with you, of course."

Tara smiled. "Me too." She turned and walked away from me a few paces.

When she spun about, the smile was gone. "How dare you offend the goddess by entering her presence clothed! Get them off, now!"

I struggled to remove my clothes and fell down in the process. Tara giggled, but quickly regained her composure. "Hurry the hell up! You call yourself a worshiper? More like a jester. Now get over here on your knees where you belong."

I complied, and got my first full look at her form. If anything, she was more beautiful than before. She was fleshier, more curvaceous; a woman entering her prime. My eyes were drawn to her breasts. Though hardly immense, they were full and firm, with the large, subtle areolas I adored. I involuntarily licked my lips in selfish anticipation.

Tara noticed, of course. "You like these?" she asked, fondling them.

"Yes, Goddess."

"I forgot you've never seen them. Do you want to make them happy?"

"Yes, Goddess."

"What are you waiting for?"

I scooted forward. Opening my mouth as wide as possible, I planted it squarely in the middle of her left breast. I quickly found her nipple and swirled my tongue about it as it swelled, which took but a few seconds. Shielding my teeth with my upper lip, I sucked as much of her as I could into my mouth, caressing her soft flesh between my tongue and palate.

"More," Tara demanded. "Harder."

I did as my goddess willed, hoping that my more vigorous actions were in no way painful. Far from it, she moaned her approval for a few minutes, then squirmed, and finally sighed with satisfaction.

"I'd love to have you suck my titties all night," Tara noted. "But you've been such a naughty boy I don't think you deserve them."

"Yes, you've been naughty indeed," she continued, grabbing one of my ears and leading me to her sofa. "You have seven years of pussy licking to catch up on you bad little boy, so you better get started now."

Releasing her grip on my ear, Tara reclined so as to make her womanhood completely accessible. With a gasp of reverence I once again viewed her delicately furred slice of heaven. Being far more acquainted with female anatomy than I had been during our initial tryst, I knelt and moved my face toward her loins with quiet confidence.

At once, the musky smell of woman filled my olfactory cavities. I paused to savor the aroma. She still smelled exactly the same as she had before; singular, primitive, pure, yet somehow subtly decadent; exactly the way a pussy should smell.

Several seconds later, I snapped my eyes wide wondering when I had closed them. I realized I had paused, just breathing; relishing her scent. Shifting my focus to Tara's face, I expected to find a frown, but she wore a wide smile instead. "Go ahead," she whispered. "Taste me."

I hesitated for a final breath, then plunged my lips into her softness. I sucked on her folds and nurtured her flesh within my mouth until such time as her hands found my head, issuing a gentle pressure as she began to writhe beneath me.

I took the cue and moved south. Her hips bounced up to meet my face as I found her entry. There she held me, her fingers wound within my hair. I swirled my tongue twice around the perimeter of her passage before plunging it into the fleshy interior.

"Yes; oh, yes!" I heard her whisper as I began to scour the soft contours of her entryway. I didn't fuck her with my tongue; I bathed her, seeking to lick every subtle ruffle over and over again. I was lost in the moment, moving my probing appendage in a random pattern, straining to lick every molecule that I could possibly reach and some that I couldn't.

Tara issued two quick grunts, then her thighs flexed inward. Her climax was as violent as it was sudden, catching me completely off guard. Her salty fluids struck me with such volume and force that I was reminded of a fire hose. A fair amount found its way up my nose. Issuing an involuntary cough, I ceased my activity.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Tara offered at once, releasing my head. She recovered her composure but a moment later. "I mean, look what a mess you've made! When your goddess squirts, you better be ready to catch it!"

"Yes, Goddess," I agreed and resumed my duties. But she never gave me any warning and I was never ready. I did my best to accept her offering whenever and wherever she issued it. However, after several subsequent convulsions, we had indeed made quite a mess.

Tara didn't seem to notice, let alone care. By then she'd again grabbed my hair and was grinding her mound all over my face. I did my best just to keep up for the next half-dozen or so minutes.

After one relatively mild climax, I felt Tara's fingers relax, releasing my locks. "Fuck me," she demanded. She slipped sideways onto the sofa, resting on her back. I rose. Following her motion, I entered her ready moistness even before she had settled.

"Oh, yes," Tara whispered. "Do it for me. Hard; just like before."

As her warmth enveloped me I paused to once again savor the moment. I reprimanded myself before she did and began to pump her with absolute abandon, trying through sheer force to shatter the couch, the floor; the entire building if possible.

An apprehension came over me within minutes as I realized what I yearned for those past seven years was far too good to last. Suddenly seven seconds seemed like a long time to suppress my impending climax. I altered my rhythm to try and postpone the inevitable.

"No," Tara moaned. Her eyes were as pleading as her voice. "Don't stop. Keep going."

I renewed my original pace. To maintain my focus, I began to count the strokes. Somewhere around fifty, I felt beads of sweat begin to run down the bridge of my nose and fall. As I shifted my neck to avoid the droplets falling upon her face, I sensed her hands grasp my head.

Tara steered my eyes upon hers. "No man since you has filled my pussy," she announced. "Let me feel it again."

As unlikely as her claim seemed, her expression left no doubt in my mind that it was genuine. I felt her hands shift to the small of my back, trying to pull me in deeper, as if that was possible. I began to release, making a brief thrust to coincide with each contraction.

As my climax subsided, I rammed my still erect member into her core and began to rotate laterally, hoping to coax one last orgasm from her. In spite of my obvious intent, I did not anticipate immediate results. I was thus startled to again feel her body tense as her spray saturated my balls.